Revolution Is a Four-Letter Word
by David Pringle
GREETINGS from White Zion.
There was a light rain last night so the air was sweet but crisp this morning when I walked out. I had a few minutes to just sit and take it all in while Laura Lee made some really good coffee. Kenyan, hand pressed… awesome. (ILLUSTRATION: Two of the outbuildings at the National Alliance community in West Virginia)
It occurred to me while mowing the grass up here on The Land that when I first heard of the National Alliance it was in a book about the Order. I decided to join and fight for the Revolution, yee-haw… but I needed a reality check.
Will Williams was the membership coordinator when I joined in January 1992. I wrote him a letter saying I was ready to “do something.” So Will put me in contact with a guy named Rick Coffman out of Bullhead City, AZ. Rick taught me the basics of activism, and away I went. He calmed me down, set me on a path. I had just gotten out of the US Army Infantry (11H 7th ID, 3rd ID) and was a very aggressive action-oriented kind of guy. Thank goodness for Rick and his mentoring.
Now fast forward 24 years. Today the revolution consisted of mowing large grass areas, weed whacking, chainsawing, raking, and sweeping. Tomorrow it’s the meeting hall’s turn.
Yesterday it was backhoeing and road repair to the top of the mountain. It is 1.33 miles from the office building to Pierce Point. There were washed-out areas and trees hanging over that were scratching my truck. Road work is some hard labor. I felt like I’d been at the gym when I got back to the office building.
It turns out revolution is actually a four-letter word: WORK.
Laura Lee has been scrubbing and vacuuming, cleaning, and organizing here on The Land. I have been securing all the buildings and identifying areas for immediate repair. There are several trees banging up against the main buildings and the National Vanguard Books warehouse, causing damage. There’s a hole in the roof of the main building thanks to Walker’s brilliant decision to put a flagpole on a structurally weak area… no common sense! It’s a long list. This is all going to take Laura and I years of constant work to repair.
Dr. Bob and Caitlyn Jenner’s twin are taking pictures of us and posting them on the Internet. They have accused me of lying and stealing and breaking and entering and who knows what else on their illiterate and unreadable blog. And they say they wonder who is going to pay me for all this: News flash “Caitlyn,” I am paying for it. I have never been paid a salary by the National Alliance. I have donated money — I’m not sure exactly how much ($50,000ish since 1992) — time, my hair (which was cut to raise $3,000), and travel expenses (I drove 15,900 miles in nine weeks visiting all the National Alliance Local Units at my own expense). My National Alliance activities have me personally quoted in over 20 books, doctoral theses, and who knows how many newspaper articles and radio and television programs. And it didn’t cost the organization a dime. I even worked a metal show instead of going to Dr. Pierce’s memorial service, so nobody would miss it — and so we could raise the money.
We came up here to The Land to start a new life of service to the Cause. It’s as simple as that. I don’t read all the stuff “Caitlyn Jenner” writes because she clearly has no job, no life, plenty of time on her hands, and nothing worthwhile to say. She might even need a psychiatrist. The local folks in Marlinton have all told me she’s nuts — and have been visibly relieved when we tell them we just moved here.
These people with all their lawyers and their personal attack blogs are more Jewish than Bernie Sanders. Before we arrived the place was filthy, too, as a result of these uncaring, hostile entities who had temporary sway over it.
None of these people are healthy examples of White men and women. They look sick and weak; they act like spoiled children; they act in Judaized ways. They throw other people’s money around like Jews. They tried to have me arrested as soon as I got here but that didn’t work. None of them would survive the Zombie Apocalypse. None of them are capable of leading. None of them are capable of doing much of anything except assisting the spitlickers in Montgomery.
I’ve noticed that many in White nationalism have turned into little girls in the way they deal with problems. Here’s my take on it: Politics is a blood sport. It is war. Literally. War is how we find out who the men worthy of breeding and leading are. Personally I prefer peace, but when that doesn’t happen I am prepared for war.
The beauty is that these defective people are very minor problems. When this episode is finished we are only bringing in families who want to live a simple, living-off-the-land lifestyle and have a job that is local. No more freaks. No more weak excuses for White men. Onward to the real war!
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