Where to Start

“Time after time have nations, ay, and rich and strong nations, learned in the arts, been, and passed away to be forgotten, so that no memory of them remains. This is but one of several; for Time eats up the works of man.”

H. Rider Haggard

 by Alexander Noble

IT’S BEEN an honor to be asked to be a contributor to National Vanguard — and a struggle. I’ve found the task of choosing topics surprisingly difficult. Not because there is nothing to write about, but rather because there is far too much. The standard solution at such times is to establish a hierarchy of priorities and plunge in at the top, then work your way down. That is almost inevitably the way to maximum efficiency of effort, and I’ve used it many times to good effect. To my frustration, I’ve realized that method falls short when dealing with the problems that beset our people. I usually strive for as much brevity as possible, but I’ll dispense with that for now.

The Western World and Western Man are trapped in a web woven of interlocking pathologies. It often seems as if all we can do is struggle in vain as the spider comes ever closer. Each pathology taken in isolation doesn’t seem too formidable, but collectively they are like individual nerve cells synapsed to each other in a vast neural network. Each nerve in the network supports and informs the others, and is supported and informed by them in turn. The resulting synergistic feedback loop creates an overall malevolence greater than the sum of its parts. Any man or woman of integrity will feel compelled to rip out these weeds that infest our culture and sap our strength, then cast them aside once and for all. Yet, they will find these spiritual vermin are intergrown and interconnected, with each intruder being held doggedly in place by the roots of its neighbors.

Attack a lie and its very victims will invoke ten others that “everybody knows” to prove it. Should you be masochistic enough to shoulder the burden of debunking those ten supporting lies, you’ll find each one networked with ten more and so on in a seemingly hopeless infinite regression of stupidity and suicidal bliss. There is much that needs to be said, it is essential that it be said, but it all needs to be said first. If you’re stubborn enough, you may eventually arrive at what undergirds the whole sorry structure of deception. Commonly, the source will be an insane article of faith passively absorbed from what passes for culture in our degenerate society. You’ll kindly do to that deception what an oncologist does to a tumor that’s killing his patient. Unlike that patient, however, your beneficiary is unlikely to be grateful. Sometimes it’s enough to make one stare at our kinsmen in disbelief and wonder if maybe, just maybe, we deserve to go extinct.

I can’t accept that. Some of our kinsmen may have manifested as evolutionary dead-ends, and Nature will punish those manifestations, but there is still wheat amongst the chaff. There is still gold and silver and steel in the dross, and that is all that matters. That is all that has ever mattered. Robert Heinlein attributed human progress and achievement to a “creative one tenth of one percent.” I always thought that was an overly pessimistic number, but I’m reluctantly beginning to believe the man knew what he was talking about. If so, it has always been that one in a thousand that makes the lives of the other 999 possible. Even if this was not so, it is one thing for a noble lion to go down under the paws of a better breed of cat; it is entirely another for him to let himself succumb because some evolutionary back alley blindly meandered its way to a more effective species of tapeworm. No, the men and women of a warrior race go down with their blood-stained swords swinging.

So, it is necessary to select a starting point and an intended audience. One has to fight the temptation to waste one’s words safely preaching to the converted, or scolding enemies who can’t be swayed. The coveted demographic in this struggle are those that, despite floundering in a sea of cognitive dissonance, are still sane, even if dazed into near incoherence. It is the few that, unlike Lewis Carroll’s White Queen, can’t quite make themselves believe six impossible things before breakfast, even if that has somehow become a moral obligation. It is the few that, no matter how much time they spend in the Ministry of Truth’s Room 101, can still only see four lights. These people can be of any age, but especially important are those of us young enough to have lived their lives at a disadvantage — and yet are still punished for phantom benefits they’ve never enjoyed. To that vitally important group, I offer an apology on behalf of my generation and the last few as well.

There was a time when the current catastrophes were obvious, small, and manageable. A wise and strong people could and would have easily snuffed out these incipient disasters in their cradles. My ancestors set forth from their resource-poor and foul-weathered island nation with a relatively small population and conquered 25% of the Earth, and held it. Now they are strangers and second-class citizens on that very island they ironically call home.

Unfortunately, at some point, “getting on with my life” became so important that we couldn’t be bothered with fighting the people who are trying to destroy those lives. We allowed ourselves to go from a people who did whatever it took for kith and kin to survive and thrive, to a people who will do whatever it takes — as long as it can be done by kickoff.

It’s not fair to those who still have eyes to see, ears to hear, and a brain to think, but those are the cards we’ve been dealt. It’s a situation that must be solved and it’s been dropped into our laps. You can’t wait for the nebulous “somebody” to fix it for you. You are somebody.

So, now that I’ve identified my intended audience, where would I have them start? Ideally, we need to cut simultaneously at every point along the Gordian Knot that ensnares us, but that is not possible. Instead, I posed a scenario to myself in which I would die tomorrow and asked: If I can only relate one thing to save those that I love, what will it be? The answer? Understand and accept futility.

The futility I speak of is not a characteristic of the ultimate aims of our cause. Our struggles to ensure that our people can survive and thrive are not futile, and can’t be allowed to be futile. What I am talking about is the necessity of doing, almost instinctively, a cost-benefit analysis on the wayward individuals in our own group. The “No Man Left Behind” imperative cannot be applied race-wide. That imperative is honorable and beneficial when applied to a tight-knit, highly cohesive group such as the Marines or special forces units with mutually understood and accepted goals and purposes; a group where each member is a known asset to the others. A man is far more likely to give his all for a group when it is known to him that they will give their all for him in his hour of need, thus making the group all the more effective. One, however, does not risk life and limb to save a traitor, or one that repeatedly insists on putting himself in unnecessary peril.

The “No Child Left Behind” doctrine of public education that has been rammed down the throats of the nation is a monument to futility with its wasted money, time, and effort. It is much loved by pseudo-intellectuals in government and academia who insist that all students can, and will, be saved. The same kind of people who say they won’t stop until they achieve the statistically impossible goal that all children are above average. Their conviction and idealism doesn’t change the fact that fate has blighted some students genetically and in their fundamental characters. Those students, probably much like their parents, can somehow contrive to overcome every advantage and reliably snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. Education administrators and bureaucrats merely believe in this impossible “ideal,” while parents, most teachers, and the students themselves know that you either leave some of the children behind, or you will leave all of them behind. These noble souls can’t understand why you would want to nurture future scientists, engineers, and technicians when you could be enjoying the warm feelings that come with making a failed attempt to keep a born felon out of prison.

These principles apply to lost kinsmen as well. It is heartbreaking to lose a single one, but grim reality insists that you accept that some are lost causes, or at a minimum they are so far gone that, in a time of crisis, one just can’t expend what it will take to redeem them.

I’ve found it hard to live by this myself, and sometimes I’ve failed to do so to my regret. I’ll cite just two examples out of thousands in my personal experience. I was once told that the best way to win someone over to your way of thinking was to start with something everybody could agree on and nudge the other person slowly bit by bit with facts and logic, instead of attacking their cherished beliefs all at once. The first time I tried this I started with the most undeniable thing I could think of. I began, “We can all agree that there is a single objective reality and that we all live in it.” At which point the other person interrupted me and told me, “You’ve already lost the argument. There are an infinite number of realities and every human lives in a separate one. Everybody knows that.” The second example is a debate I had with a woman at a college in the San Francisco Bay area. She was an attractive, highly intelligent, and highly educated young White woman who proudly announced her intention to remain childless. When I pointed out this attitude would eventually lead to our extinction, she became angry and snapped, “Well, we deserve it!” If you have a trace of human decency anywhere within, you will want to help these tragic creatures. Unfortunately, you have to go nearly back to the cradle to repair that kind of damage. We don’t have that kind of time. Let them go.

After you’ve redeemed yourself, endeavor to find and save those that can be saved. Let the justice of Nature take care of the rest.