Doth Western Man Lay Down and Die?


Greek soldier dying


The Onion ran an article during the Scottish independence movement mocking that the British Empire, which not too long ago dominated the globe, was to be reduced to the eight acres around Buckingham Palace.

Saturday Night Live made a spoof video laughing at the demise of the whites in America.

Emasculated and humiliated “men” in Rotherham mope around impotently after finding out their young daughters were systematically raped by Pakistani Muslims.

White “men” excuse away black men who mug them; white women excuse away black men who rape them. I suppose if the dead could talk, dead white liberals would excuse the black men who murdered them.

Seemingly every western nation celebrates “diversity” and “multiculturalism”—translated as “any race but the white race”, and “any culture but Western culture”, respectively.

Meanwhile, hostile alien races froth at the mouth at the thought of looting the remains of Western Civilization once we are out of the way.

We are on a precipice, and the hour is late. Do we have any gas left in the tank? Do we have the energy and will to mount a comeback?

I look at emergent groups like Génération Identitaire, Golden Dawn, UKIP, and the like and feel some deep stirrings of hope. Perhaps we’re not done yet.

As we head into the Thanksgiving holiday, I give thanks that I’m still alive and kicking, that I’ve awoken from my dogmatic liberal slumber, and that I’ve found a great bunch of patriots with whom I feel a kinship in the struggle.

The Beginnings

(AKA “The Wrath of the Awakened Saxon”)

By Rudyard Kipling*

It was not part of their blood,
It came to them very late
With long arrears to make good,
When the English began to hate.

They were not easily moved,
They were icy willing to wait
Till every count should be proved,
Ere the English began to hate.

Their voices were even and low,
Their eyes were level and straight.
There was neither sign nor show,
When the English began to hate.

It was not preached to the crowd,
It was not taught by the State.
No man spoke it aloud,
When the English began to hate.

It was not suddenly bred,
It will not swiftly abate,
Through the chill years ahead,
When Time shall count from the date
That the English began to hate.

* For Liam: An AmRen commenter, Petronius, clued me in on where to find the proper attribution of this poem to Kipling:

“This is one of Kipling’s WW1 pieces, written 1915. The proper title of the poem is “The Beginnings.” It originally accompanied the story “Mary Postgate” in Kipling’s “A Diversity of Creatures” (1917). It can also be found in “Rudyard Kipling’s Verse Inclusive Edition 1885-1918″ (Doubleday, 1920), 739.”


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