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Offline victim of the sspx

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Patriotic book
« on: January 20, 2018, 11:13:57 PM »
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  • Writing a book designed to outrage politically correct  individuals as a hobby.
    White nationalist, conservative, anti homo, pro life, anti left, anti establishment.
    Some parts of it ridicule leftwing beliefs later on, but starts with a patriotic intro :o
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    Chapter 1

    Eire’s Error
    A Country that forgot what it means

    Once, this country was intended as a beautiful possession of a race, united in common interest, for mutual advantage. It was a vision ever elusive, like a mirage on the horizon offering hope of refreshment as the desert culled our numbers, this it always was.
    Once, it was understood that no Irish man is expendable, and that everyone carried the honour of their tribe, and that every child carried the force of destiny in their breath. There was no talk of killing our own offspring for reasons of the mother’s “mental health” in this Ireland. Everyone was necessary, everyone expected to contribute to their people and derive honour from their utility to the tribe. There was no self-righteous entitled underclass of cynical people who made a career out of social welfare. Ireland and the infrastructure and creations in it was known to be the manifestation of the hard work and suffering and effort of the Irish people, and not the result of private business and foreign workers. There was no deference to any ruthless employment agency or bias against the native workman in this Ireland. The island, the whole lot of it, was always believed to be the sacred property of the Gael, and through an understanding of common interest, an alliance of its’ own tribes was born. Yet this was no lobby group in which to meditate on the sacred mysteries of political correctness and apply them piously to the uneducated heathen… this was an association of Irish men who rallied to face an existential danger.

    Who led this alliance? No one knows. But I am sure it was a man, and definitely sure that he/she/it/ze/zer…etc was not some polyamorous gender-fluid non-centric poly-queer transsɛҳuąƖ “other-kin” who identifies as mickey mouse… because despite the claim of the left-wingers that the number of genders has presently increased to a grand total of 56, and that you can change your gender identity at will, I am sure that such things did not exist until now…. Not until that is when the white countries after decades of left-wing rule became delusional in extreme. So this alliance of valiant Irish men I spoke of, fought, for the existence of their race and a future for their children basically, but their warriors were cut down like cattle in a slaughterhouse, but then another one rose to take its’ place. This too suffered the same fate. Others rose and were likewise cut down like animals. Yet another took their place, disregarding their certainty of doom to be incurred as a punishment for resisting the invader, and as if volunteering in great numbers for certain and gruesome death, yet moved by the virtue of their belief that their nation should live, they suffered the same fate. Another brave assembly came after them… and after them another and another, until the time came when the enemy was weakened by their own wars elsewhere… and with what small pressure we could muster, it resulted in fruitful efforts for the carriers of the torch of Irish existence. 26 counties were conceded to us, on the understanding that we would favour the empire in all things. Pets we became, and we got comfortable in that portion of freedom allowed to us. Eventually then that state of “Ireland” was born… Well its’ better than nothing I suppose.

    No longer would the Irish consent to being be victims of foreign rule, or suffer persecutions and slavery at the hands of strangers who despised them. These were their sentiments as they acted to ensure their survival and welfare. They would not consent to being stolen from, or murdered or raped or pillaged or oppressed, and the memories of pain made them overtly moralistic and religious. No longer would the genes that comprise the Irish people consent to the presence of the genocidal menace that terrorized their lands with death and fear and misery and despair. Ireland was for the Irish, and most of it being “Free”, in the “Free state”, they accepted their victory and their brave thoughts about their destiny manifest in peaceful patriotism.

    It was long understood by this entire race, that Ireland was the sacred property of the Irish, and that the destiny of the Irish was united to their ancestors. It was a destiny in which the Irish proved in trials and temptations the bonds of their fidelity to their own people. The few defectors from their own race took the rewards of cowardice and became puppet lords over their kinfolk, and whispers of apostasy from the nation tempted every man who could see nothing but the guns of the enemy pointed at him.

    Most of our ancestors rejected the desolation to which they were condemned. The fighting spirit, evoked out of the pressures of necessity, dwelt in a people who had not experienced peace and plenty enough to refine themselves into sophistication, and the urge to fight did manifest in the most crude sentiments and primitive methods. To this day the Irish possess the same crudeness, as if the sophisticated perfections that are exalted by their historical enemy do not fit their psyche. Yet these sentiments natural to the Irish, if crude, contain a sophistication of their own, and it is right to understand it properly. There is no sense in holding the culture of the English up as the universal standard of refinement. The Irish were refined in a furnace much hotter and bloodier than any scented cradle that birthed the gentlemanly idol modelled after the English aristocracy. The Irish had their own form of nobility, and it was a nobility based on the expediency of fulfilling duty to the tribe. The Irish were a culture of warrior tribes. They had nothing but apathy to any pride or social status or claim to glory that was based on the sophisticated abstractions of a civilization detached from the physical reality. Thousands of years may have passed, and yet this sentiment remained, not because it was based in abstractions, but because it contained in the propensity of our genetic lineage. Yet now they strive to imitate the civilization of those who conquered them, and their aristocracy is modelled after that same civilization. The gentleman and lady constitute a class of imposters, fake Irish nobility, impersonating nobility when the Irish have no connection to such people, and no natural affinity for their glorified refinements. The Irish to this day remain more emotionally sympathetic to their natural culture than to that fake practiced façade of the well to do gentleman and lady whose civilization has subjugated the wilderness. Some part of the Irish still longs for the freedom of the wilderness. It is not wealth and comfort that the Irish soul was born from, on the contrary, it was the very wilderness that they hail from which the new civilization strives to tame, and a part of the Irish still resents the notion of being tamed. It is as if the soul of the Gael knows that modern pretence and pleasantries count for nothing when confronted by reality, and the Irish bear the memories of harsh physical reality in their culture.
    The Irish furnace was much hotter and much more miserable than the gluttonous decadence of our foreign role models. There is much more truth in the lack of affection for an excessively domesticated civilization than there is in what they call “Civilized”. One civilization had reverence for the natural cycles of nature, and strives to unite itself to it, in heart, mind and soul, knowing that nothing can escape it, and that nature and life itself is a manifestation of the eternal. The other civilization obsesses over abstractions of “Politeness” and “Etiquette” and “Manners” and “Civility” and suppresses its’ expression of natural desires to hold itself to this artificial idol of “Correctness” in which nature untamed is the enemy, and to this day it revers a perfumed aristocracy ruling a profoundly artificial society.

    Although there are advantages to modern civilization, it carries many disadvantages. It craves the civilizing of all things, and the subordination of all people’s to its’ standards. I say it has a certain disharmony with the Irish psyche, and this disharmony can only be resolved by the moulding of society after one universal psyche. The civilization that claims to serve those who practice it, if left to run its’ course uncontrolled, eats up all things unique and in their place leaves nothing but a woeful sameness everywhere.
    It likewise gobbles up every unique culture in the world.

    A different kind of truth became united to the psyche of the Irish, and the same is true of every race that was also conquered by this same “Civilization”. Our truth was one that reflected our history, and it was carried within every person either willingly or unwillingly, as the environments that our ancestors had absorbed necessarily bought forth elements unto their descendants, both in their deficiencies, privations, and in their habits and excesses. The Irish are inseparable from their past, and no amount of modern day plenty can change the fact that if we are tame now, it is a sophisticated structure of imitation where we strive to be something we are not, and to succeed by the standards of others. It is a modern artificial structure of “Civilization” built on the foundations of the tempered purity from a race whose history was refined in the furnace of suffering, and this is the only true refinement that should be seen as valuable, ennobling, and the bringer of wisdom.

    Civilization does not belong to those refined in the modern sense, or the pompous, or to those who have it because it was given to them. I think these privileged citizens of the universal civilization have forgotten it is artificial, and that it takes steel to maintain it.
    The ancestors of the Irish had their own civilization before it was replaced. We were among the most advanced before being crushed and silenced. Our way of life was different to what it was today, and our priorities and values were different, but it was a glorious and valuable manifestation of humanity, and if it were of no utility, then we would not have endured for thousands of years up to our present age of civilized arrogance. Though they were not fluent in sophisticated manners, their blunt truth, often seen in their descendants when they encounter opposition, is an appeal to another culture, and when faced with the reality of hardship, they returned to their true culture inherited from their ancestors as if by default. The refined gentleman was never a hero in Irish culture, nor should an ancient race of warriors have any fondness for it.

    We were murdered, slain by the millions, forcefully starved, pillaged and ransacked, raped and burnt, subjugated in our own home by the stranger who said with the backing of cowards that our home was theirs. Made slaves to rulers tyrannical deceitful and wicked through and through, with cruelty beyond compare, the ancient Gaelic race and all about their unique identity was crushed, suppressed, and condemned to the depths of death and despair. The cowards gorged themselves from the food of our table, and were enriched by the rewards of treason. The Irish were smashed as a people, their home was taken from them, they were expendable and stigmatized in their own home, and it was expected in the natural course of events that we would disappear

    Whoever dares to lie and re-write history has blood on their hands, for the book of Irish history is dripping with the sacrifices of our ancestors. So often were the fields of Ireland planted with corpses and so thoroughly were the people murdered again and again that the life of the nation became synonymous with the concept of a Resurrection from the dead. The world knew of our history all throughout the ages because we spoke it in the form of screams. The bogs and the fields soaked up the blood of the people like a sponge, and fed the fish and the worms with molecules of Celtic blood. Rains fell and saturated the island as if the heavens being moved with horror sought to wash away the stains. Who dares forget the horror endured to win us existence? As a body must remember a disease that struck it, to prevent the same illness happening again, so must the Irish remember their struggle for existence, to prevent their own annihilation. Knowledge is always useful, but the wisdom gained from our struggle to survive was forgotten. It was not passed on, and soon the genes that comprise the Irish will not be passed on either. Traitors rule with the same cowardly deceptiveness as their forerunners. A modern political class rules uncontested over a despairing people who abandoned hope in the concept of their own nation. It is obvious, first through a history in which we never got justice, and second through the sometimes brown faces of the modern day aristocracy that the rulers have no memory of history, and the reason is that they are not of our body, they are not of our people. They are the political class of traitors, middle to upper class socialist sleaze who supervises the transformation of the white Irish into the brown economic zone ruled from abroad. The destiny our enemies wanted for us, absolute annihilation, will soon be made complete. The home so dearly loved and fought for is handed to strangers as we are replete with apologies for ever having wanted a home in the first place. Perhaps the brown peoples will forgive us for existing once we reach our final end? Perhaps there is some sort of absolution of the sin of white existence once we are led into the abyss of total annihilation? Who dares indulge in this madness but a Traitor? Eradication nears as if the spectre that haunted us for hundreds of years finally shows its’ true face. Behold then, the summation of hundreds of years of greed and cowardice and betrayals and sleaze all rolled into one septic wound on the nation embodied in the political elite. The air of society contains a putrid stench of the despair of the dispossessed Irish with the lust of the elated traitor who knows they are the notorious ones who will witness the vanishing of the Celts.

    Often the ancient menace, once merciless, but now in modern times, placated by our timidity, denied us our right to existence. Independence was always paramount for us because without it we could not exist and follow our own destiny. Our ancestors knew well the consequences of losing one’s independence. The Irish were to be subtracted from the diversity of the world, bred out of existence, removed from the fabric of humanity, erased from history, and our one and only ancestral home colonized and handed to foreigners.

    To those who endorse this treason, I say that you are not of our people. No people could maintain perfect unity of resolve upon being smashed again and again by the cruelty of our “Civilized” nemesis. Traitors were grown in the ranks of the affluent, and procured with the choice between rewards for betrayal or suffering for fidelity unto death.
    Many chose death instead of the rewards of betrayal, and their descendants became the lower classes of the modern Irish state. Those who chose to betray their nation were gifted with an affluence and mixed with the invader with the result of manifesting the modern Irish aristocracy, whose ancestors were dishonourable traitors, and who themselves are likewise dishonourable traitors who disown the Irish part of themselves.
    They see the Irish as expendable, and as nothing more than economic cattle. They see the country as a tax farm, and they milk it for all it is worth. But I say the nation is more than what masquerades as our country now. I say that a true nation hides underneath this creation that our enemy tolerated and found acceptable. I know that the Irish nation was born from death, baptized in blood, fed with tears, schooled in fire, educated in prisons, and wore chains and nooses as their Jєωellery. The torch of the Irish race will be carried forth into new generations, on and on, in dignity perpetuum, regardless of the mannerisms of a megalomaniacal “Civilization”, because the fire in that torch is nothing short of the will of the genes in the Irish race to survive and carry on. If our genes are to carry on, then the torch of the nation must be carried, and as our genes are passed to new generations, the need for a nation is likewise passed with them. IRELAND will never truly heal until its’ people can call their homeland exclusively their own, to do with as their genes see fit, and manifest their originality in a thriving unique form which only the Irish can truly express the perfection of.

    In the interests of the Irish race, I say we are right if we want Ireland to belong to the Irish, and not merely to belong, but exist in union with our race as our tool and aid and intercessor as we face the demands and trials of life. I say we were always right to demand our own homeland, and that we have nothing to apologize for. On the contrary! It is those who have plotted and schemed and worked for decades to remove our sense of dignity from us, those who sought to convince us that our dignity was to be found in the imitation of foreign ways and values, who should apologize, and yet the time of apologies is long over owing to the gravity of the crime against our race. I say that in the interests of preserving the true ethnic biodiversity of the species, and to preserve the genes of the Gaelic tribes for the profit of humanity, that I have had enough of the fraudulent Marxist based impostor of false “Diversity”. I say their sham version of Diversity is a code word used to justify a modern day colonization of the one and only homeland of the white peoples. I say that I have had enough of the disgusting affront to my nations heritage called “Multiculturalism” which erases every culture on earth to replace it with the excessively tame “Civilization” not of our inclinations or making.
    Though a minority of traitors has brought the entire race to the foreboding limits of history which only those who see the flaws in “Civilization” can see, we must back away from the precipice and face the enemy that has worked against us for so long.

    If we do not resist as did our ancestors, then the Irish will die as a race in their sleep.