Yes, I know. I’m being mean to you, and hurting your feelings again.
Guys, it’s like this:
If we continue to do nothing except generate words, the world is going to end. Literally.
We now have a simple, perfectly legal, mildly difficult but by no means impossible, and ultimately beneficial deed with which any and every White man and woman can respond effectively to the threat of genocide: Northwest Migration.
There is simply no excuse for not doing it, unless of course you were never serious about any of this White racial stuff to begin with.
I have failed utterly to convey any sense of urgency about this. As egomaniacal as this sounds (and yes, I know how it sounds) I have the most important message in human history to deliver, and it’s just not getting through.
If I had a carrot, I would offer it. I don’t. All I have is the stick, a small one, and that is whatever residual sense of conscience and shame a few of you may feel at what you have become. I have to use that stick in a desperate attempt to get you here, where you’re supposed to be, before that goddamned balloon really does go up, one way or the other.
I have to try and save something out of this coming cataclysm, or at least begin a process whereby something may be saved. To do this I must have your help. A tiny, minuscule number of people are still susceptible to reasoned argument, but nowhere near enough, and we can’t locate and contact those who are. Since I can’t bribe you into doing the right thing, I have to try and shame you. It’s not nice and I feel bad about it, but what can I tell you? You gots to play the cards you’re dealt.
That’s why I am so mean to you.