Raising Funds For Those That Would End Your Life
Raising Funds For Those That Would End Your Life by Holly O for The Burning Platform
One for sorrow, two for mirth,
Three for a wedding, four for a birth.
Five for a girl, six for a boy,
Seven for heaven and eight for joy.
Nine for freedom from coveting gold.
Ten for a secret ne’er to be told.
-Upon Counting Magpies, traditional
On recommendation, I downloaded the recent film Bohemian Rhapsody. I enjoyed it tremendously overall—it was charming, and reminded me of the lost dimension we often refer to in this generally genial confederacy that is The Platform That Burns.
What struck me most clearly was the final scene at Wembley during Live Aid, the rolling ocean of White faces comprising the celebrants and congregation—one hundred thousand of them. In this vast multitude there were perhaps five or ten non-Whites present. In real life it was one of the largest and least diverse crowds ever seen, and everyone there—nearly two billion worldwide—participated to raise money to rescue, feed, heal, nurture and educate a generation of Blacks who would then grow up to torture and kill White African farmers by way of thanks, then aim to destroy whatever remained of the White world they could get their hands on.
I could never imagine Chinese, Japanese, Jews, Negroes—any other race or culture—deploying an event that all-encompassing in order to benefit another race, only Caucasian/Anglo-Saxon/Celts would have the gumption to even attempt such a feat, as well as the pathological altruism to follow through. We make up six percent of world population and falling, yet nowadays we cannot seem to organise a single benefit to heal, nurture and educate ourselves, nor even to sustain our culture and genetic line by proposing, establishing or preserving a White Ethnostate.
We were the first to build habitable buildings more than four storeys high, the first to construct bridges to carry the weight of steam trains, which we also invented, and the safe and secure mines that produced the coal that smelted the metal that formed the engines that powered the trains with the coal we mined. We are—in a word—astonishing. In invention and innovation we are elves and everyone else are orcs, and the orcs despise us for it all whilst coveting the things we have created. To all who try to stamp on our spirits, to all who try to say we have no culture I have this response: Look around. Technology is our culture, and art and music and beautiful soaring cathedrals, penicillin and botany, flushing toilets and refrigeration and general anaesthesia and Shakespeare, along with the burning desire to share all these things with anyone in the world who will value them as we do. Ours was the most benevolent and beneficial empire the world has ever seen and our legend will endure even if we don’t.
What was that? Colonising Bad? We deserve everything that is currently unfolding? Tell it to the Chippewa, they might return the lands they stole from the Sioux. Or perhaps the Chinese might finally relinquish Tibet. The descendants of Ottoman Turks may vacate the conquered Byzantine lands and return Constantinople to the Christians, along with Antioch and Alexandria.
We are enslavers of mankind? Let me tell you about enslavement; for more than four centuries one quarter to one third of my family were taken into slavery by Barbary Coast Moslem pirates, snatched from their beds in darkened villages of Wales and Cornwall, loaded onto small vessels and carried to the markets of Tunis and Tripoli to be sold. None of the taken were ever heard from again. As I have asked before, who proposes their reparations?
In a world where even Stalin can be mourned (the Russians really did lament his loss, at least for a time and we are much nicer than Stalin) we—White people—will be legends. The rest of the world may eventually decline to the stone age without us but we will be remembered because we will be missed.
But is that really enough? Are we willing to settle for the status of dead-but-mythological beings? Chances are we won’t be entirely wiped out; in bleaker moments I can envision a time when Western Whites are bred like pandas, the most beautiful claimed by the Caliphate as sex slaves, the cleverest purchased to be high-status servants of Chinese equity lords or ruby button Mandarins. Perhaps the ones who do not make the cut will be kept in animal park-style zoos to be mocked by the hoi polloi unable to afford a White of their own to torment.
One hot-off-the-press example of the rollicking bollocks expressed against my people follows below, the upshot being, You are a visitor on Inuit Homelands. Don’t use us for your résumé. Pay what we ask you for our tourist tat with no attempt at negotiation. Meritocracy rewards White people. Racism against White people does not exist. White people are disallowed to judge whether or not any action they commit is racist or culturally insensitive. In Inuit-only spaces you are to sit down, shut up and refrain from participating. In fact, do not hesitate to exclude yourself entirely. (Perhaps on an ice floe?)
Can you imagine a phrase like, You are a visitor on White Homelands allowed to stand in these times? This article is not an isolated case but rather one of ten billion snowflakes forming an avalanche threatening to carry my culture to the bottom of a crevasse and entomb it for all time. Feel free to peruse it for yourself:
Note how everyone has a name for us—qallunaat, haole, honkey, cracker, gwailo, gora, gaijin, goy—but those terms are an accepted facet of their cultures, so who are we to object? But just try a little tit-for-tat and see how fast they go mad.
Perhaps the new White gene pool will derive from the Slavic rather than the Nordic/Celtic/Anglo-Saxon line. The Russians certainly have the drive, the pride, the skills and self-esteem to survive, along with the spiritual foundation that is the heart of any thriving race and culture.
Orthodox Christianity has flourished since the fall of the Soviets. Western Whites on the other hand presently self-identify as agnostics and atheists in numbers far higher than any other group on earth. I suspect this makes us like a reed with the pith pulled out, causing us to bend like straws beneath the weight of the present day. We are out of balance and I see no way back to where we need to be except through the Word of God, which most Whites now deride or dismiss entirely. As our science and technology bloomed, our connection to a sense of the Divine withered. We have sucked the last drop of juice from the fruit of The Enlightenment and now that we have arrived at its poisoned pit we cannot seem to stop chewing.
Many Britons flinch when one suggests ever needing a gun but don’t believe the lukewarm protestations. As the past few years have unfolded any remaining hesitation is apt to change, and soon. The race memory we are beginning to revive is that for thousands of years everyone on this island was armed at all times with daggers—with swords if you could afford them, with throwing axes and longbows for truly special occasions. Personal defence was not just a choice, it meant accepting full responsibility for individual safety beyond city or castle walls. Defending ourselves with grace and strength and skill was something we once took great pride in.
The seed of our downfall was planted nearly two centuries ago with the passing of The Metropolitan Police Act of 1829, when Sir Robert Peel established a full-time, professional and centrally-organised police force. It was not well received at the time; the public felt they managed quite well with night watchmen and personal vigilance, and besides, who was expected to pay for it? And why hadn’t the people been consulted? As things usually go between governments and those subject to them, government had its way. We turned our weapons over to legally-sanctioned protectors and began to soften as a people.