In any worthwhile endeavor it is good to pause now and then and reflect just why we do what we do. So it is with securing the existence of our people and a future for White children, with all roads leading ultimately to establishing the first of many Aryan ethnostates. Why do we do what we do? Does it really matter if we survive as a race? After all, we are all human beings, all part of the greater human family, and perhaps the eventual blending of all races is simply a natural, evolutionary progression of human history.
Four and a half years after his death, David Lane continues to speak to us, and I have yet to find better words than his to express at least one reason why we must prevail: So that the beauty of Aryan woman shall not perish from the face of this earth.
Beauty, along with scarcity and usefulness, forms the tripod for the fundamental concept of value. Beauty is worth saving, and anyone with an honest heart knows the lion’s share of all beauty that has emanated from humanity — whether it is art, architecture, literature, music or poetry — has been brought forth from and through the Aryan race. But it is our physical beauty, as David refers to, that I wish to talk about today.
One of my favorite fairy tales has always been Beauty and the Beast. Like The Ugly Duckling and other tales born in the bosom of Europe, the story ends with the triumph of Beauty over Ugliness and Good vanquishing Evil — even when the beauty is cloaked for a season in ugliness, and good camouflaged with evil. I have several books on fairy tales, and it is interesting to note that the fables and homilies born from other races differ in basic construct from ours. For example, those from the Middle East usually end happily with the main character gaining great wealth, and those from the Far East conclude with the hero being bestowed with honor and wisdom. In short, the reoccurring theme that beauty is preferable to ugliness and that good must triumph over evil appears to be an Aryan characteristic.
What is beauty? How does one define beauty? This is a difficult proposition, as is anything that exists from a qualitative, rather than quantitative premise; i.e. — you may not be able to articulate what beauty is, but you know it when you see it, and you know it when you hear it. When you are walking in a deep mountain canyon at night, with the air frosted and the stars so clear it seems you can almost touch them, and come around a bend and look up and see a crescent moon appearing from behind a tall, craggy spire on the Sawtooths, you know you have witnessed beauty in all its raw, majestic glory and you raise your arms in acknowledgement to Mother Nature’s sovereign might.
When you have been on the snow trail for many hours and are exhausted and are trying to balance your pace between being fast enough to arrive at the cabin before dark yet slow enough to avoid sweating in the freezing air and the howl of a wolf echoes down the mountain and through the trees and into your soul, you know you have heard beauty, and tears of joy flow without shame, for you know that this song, belonging to a creature hated by many men, was the song chosen by that Power Who gives strength to the strong, Who makes the snow sparkle in the winter, and Who makes the flowers bloom in the springtime. Beauty is that which resonates within your spirit, that ineffable quality that strikes a flawless chord within your being. And, being qualitative, it manifests itself in degrees; some things are more beautiful than others. And so we may proceed to the observation that beauty is not egalitarian; rather in its purest sense beauty is elitist, for beauty is the DNA of Mother Nature Herself.
The term ‘Beast’ means various things to different folk. I have known some religious people, especially of the Anabaptist faiths (Amish, Mennonite, etc.) who categorize all non-human mammals as such. For others, the word describes men without manners. But many Aryans hold the term ‘Beast’ as descriptive of a system that seeks to supplant Nature, a system that has no soul, a system that lusts for the transformation of spiritual men and women into economic units. A system, above all, that having supplanted Nature’s goodness of elitism with man’s goodness of egalitarianism, declares itself God. That is to say, the Beast proclaims itself lord and master over Mother Nature.
The Beast seeks to vanquish Aryan beauty and supplant it with egalitarian ugliness. The weapons employed by it are legion and include misplaced altruism, defiance of Nature through urbanization, homosexuality, exposing our young people to degenerative noise it calls ‘music’ (but is reminiscent of a cacophony of constipated monkeys), guilt either secular or religious, and above all, destruction of motherhood through abortion, feminism, and dismantling the traditional family unit.
For the Beast knows its ugliness can never shadow the radiance of Aryan beauty. It knows it cannot first attack beauty externally, for it is the law of Nature that only beauty can destroy beauty. And so ugliness is obliged to attack from within, making the beautiful behold the ugly with empathy, court the ugly, and ultimately be ashamed of its own beauty and preferring ugliness instead.
I have a friend who owns several hardware stores, and I asked him once how he prevented shoplifting. He said he couldn’t; there always had been shoplifting, and there always would be, so he just kept it to an acceptable level. And so it is with attacks against beauty; there has always been divorce, there has always been miscegenation, there has always been murder, there has always been homosexuality, and there has always been pornography. But, we must keep it to an acceptable level — something we actually accomplished quite well until the advent of a certain (apparent) defeat several generations ago.
It has been said that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and there is no doubt different people prefer different types of beauty — blondes versus brunettes, or orchids versus roses, for example. But the diplomatically disarming claim that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder is often held up as a sort of trump card by those who are less than beautiful, or who desire to be an advocate for the ugly among us. Most people are reluctant to challenge such a statement, fearing they may appear heartless, or even worse — elitist — if they do. It is very much like the unctuous clergyman who, seeking to build his congregation, encourages non-White immigration under the guise of helping the children. Who dares take exception to that? And so it is with those who resent beauty — the ugly, the marginal, the mediocre, the guilt-ridden, and the masochists — they hate that which brings their own shortcomings to light. Yes, beauty may be in the eyes of the beholder, but no one ever confuses it with ugliness. Women understand this, especially ugly women.
Why is beauty important? It is the preference of the Creator. It inspires. Beauty defines direction — up, rather than down. We can see Nature’s preference for beauty in all Her handiwork, in how She paints sunrises and sunsets, shapes clouds, forms trees, colors flowers, and clothes animals. All are lovely, yet She could have made them otherwise. And so out of our desire to please the Eternal we seek to bring forth images, male and female that glorify and please Them. The bear, the birds, the elk, horses and dogs and the language and music that issues from them, all these are a testimony to the Divine Intent that there be beauty and not ugliness, and that creation shall continue to go up and not down, even as it has in ages past.
And within beauty, we see Nature’s chosen expression for purity — white. Snow is white. Clouds (except rain clouds) are white, and when shot through with light from below, they blush, as do us Aryans! White symbolizes cleanliness and absence of stain. Indeed, it is absence of color. White is the mark of the Divine — the sun, moon, and stars — all pulsate when we look at them with a bright white light.
There is a ranking of beauty in Nature, as one would expect, for in Nature nothing is equal. Nature exalts quality, not equality. Equality is a necessary, fundamental expression in the abstract world of mathematics. But when applied to living organisms, including human beings, equality is but an artifice, that sacred sophistry of both secular humanism and organized religion. Within species, cross-breeding almost always results in a loss of beauty. Compare the ubiquitous Heinz-57 canine with a noble German shepherd, or the backyard broomtails common on Indian reservations with a magnificent Thoroughbred. Even among purebreds within species there is this ranking — compare say a Labrador retriever with a Chihuahua, or a Nordic woman with a Jewish or Negroid woman. Yes, perhaps there would some dissenters, but in the beauty contest, I’ll place my bet on the Labrador retriever (and the Nordic), every time. Even within family and genera, classes and orders, flora and fauna, we see Nature’s ranking of beauty. Compare the homely Manatee to the graceful Dolphin, or the small, twisted Scrub Oak with the stately White Oak, and this inequality in Nature is clear.
Why are so many Whites — explicitly or implicitly — uncomfortable around most non-Whites? Admittedly there are exceptions. For example, I have never known a White nationalist who was uncomfortable around Japanese, and in fact Adolf Hitler, speaking of the Japanese, once referred to them as the Aryans of the East. But still, the fact remains that most Whites are ill at ease around the colored. And, if we are to be honest, the reasons are not hard to articulate. Foremost is probably the way they look; to a greater or lesser degree depending on what particular group of non-Whites one is considering, their physical appearance embodies a haunting, blurred, yet unmistakable characteristic that is disturbingly well summarized in one word we do best to keep hidden within ourselves: simian. Everyone is loath to speak of this publicly, for this truth is disquieting and the social price for public utterance is huge, but in every Aryan’s heart of hearts (aside from self-haters) consciously or unconsciously, be they trendy liberals, kosher conservatives, wealthy businessmen or poor rural rednecks, this conviction is unshakable and cannot be denied.
Non-Whites also sound different, and not in a sense pleasant to us, not in that fashion to which we are accustomed, not in the tones to which we relate, sparking that little inner voice to say these are not my people, and I want to be somewhere else.
They may at times smell different. Those of you who, like me, were in close quarters with them in the military or high school locker rooms know what I am talking about. It may not always be a bad smell, but it is a different smell, a foreign smell, a smell that makes you want to be home. There are other things as well about non-Whites that may bother us, such as their different moral standards, their concept of cleanliness and orderliness, their music, their regards towards our animal friends which often radiate cruelty (witness dog fights, cock fights, and bull fights), and their unwelcomed attention to our women. Yet it is in these three primary senses — sight, sound and smell, that we feel ill at ease around them.
In short, they are not beautiful — in our sense of the word. Nor can they make themselves so. They can only counterfeit, and these counterfeits are held aloft by an Enemy who insists we declare them equally beautiful — a task that sycophants, eunuchs and poseurs readily perform in groveling abeyance that they may secure the approval of the Enemy’s Beast.
Beauty must be guarded. Aryans do not have a lot of room for error, and if we err but slightly, we fall. Only one outbreeding destroys our progeny forever, although with non-Whites it has little effect, or possibly a positive one. The apotheosis of human beauty is like climbing a mountain; in the beginning the roads are many, but as one approaches the summit, the availability of paths narrow and, at the peak, the only way is down.
Again, protecting beauty is like obtaining high marks — when one achieves a 4.0 grade point average, the only departure leads down. Or it may be likened unto a woman who wishes to remain chaste — she must stay so always so to remain so once. A whore may fornicate over and over and remain a whore, but a chaste woman — never. Again, it is analogous to moral purity; whereas lesser beings may frolic like apes, those of higher breeding must set their sights on that above, striving for all that is noble, and rejecting all that is base. It is no mystery our Aryan strength reached a zenith (not the last!) during the age and values of Queen Victoria.
It should be no wonder how difficult our struggle is. Beauty means to build up — to ascend, and ugly means to tear down — to descend. It is much easier to descend than ascend; the process to dismantle and destroy goes much quicker and with much less effort than to build and create, whether it is a car engine, a fine painting, or (ahem) a skyscraper.
To say we descended from apes is to suggest the apes are greater than we, a ludicrous proposition — certain well-paid examples in American political culture notwithstanding. Are we then the ascendants of high apes, or the descendants of higher men? For it is not the lot of the ascendant to bear witness to shame, but rather that of the descendant. Even so, it is the latter that is able to blush, bearing witness to an ancient shame, not the former. Consider and contemplate: which race or races blush?
Beauty is the outward, visible manifestation of obedience to the Laws of Mother Nature. True beauty is absolute; that is to say, it is pure — beautiful inside and out. True beauty is not skin deep — it too, as with ugliness, goes to the bone, for beauty is three-fold; physical, moral and spiritual. Being White on the outside only lasts your lifetime; being White on the inside will last your children’s lifetimes, too. There is nothing more beautiful than a physically, morally and spiritually well-constructed Aryan woman or man; in that image there is no trace of simian lineage; in that image dwells the sons and daughters of light, emissaries of Hyperborean wisdom.
One of the surest signs of degeneration among higher humanity is loss of an appreciation for beauty, or even the ability to recognize beauty. There is a certain tribe, all powerful for a brief time, known for its ugliness of architecture, vapidity of art, and love of all things urban. This tribe loves large cities and feels threatened — as it indeed is — by Mother Nature, and so you will never find one of them camping in the woods, for what is beauty to us is anathema to them. This is not unusual, for those who create, create images of themselves.
We all have our arch-type of beauty, that which is the consummate expression of beauty in its fullest sense. For some of us, beauty is divinely perfected in Mother Nature, whose glory radiates from Her golden hair, Her alabaster skin, the ice blue diamonds of Her eyes, the music of Her voice, the gentleness of Her motherhood, the justice of Her righteousness, the terror of Her retribution, and the fury of Her scorn. She is our Aryan glory, and we love Her forevermore.
Her antithesis is the Beast, that horror which seeks to thwart Her, that anti-Nature which reaches to the scepter of divine power with soiled and evil hands — man seeking to be God without the Godliness thereof, granting himself license to violate Natural Law under the suave pontification of ‘freedom’. This malevolent counterpart to Mother Nature is symbolized by someone who in times past we thought was our best friend, but now plays the harlot. Green-skinned, with horns on her head, she stands in the polluted harbor of the capital city of the Urban Men, raising her torch in ugly defiance to Nature — the image of that Beast whose military might depends on high technology (forever subservient to low technology), and whose backbone of that strength is largely comprised of ne’er-do-wells, women who do not want to be women, misfits, and proudly and openly now — sodomizers. The day has finally arrived when folk of older nations no longer view the specter of an American military conquest as the most fearful dread following the arrival of the red, white & blue.
Belief in one’s superiority is, more than curiosity or necessity, the driving force for creativity, upward struggle, excellence, even life itself. What makes the strongest bull elk dominant, so that he breeds with the most cows? What gives victory in war? What makes one athletic champion prevail over his opponents? It is superiority. And, more importantly it is one’s belief in one’s superiority. For the achievements of all living things in this world happen twice — first in the mind, then in the deed. This is a primordial law of life — that to prevail, to conquer, to succeed and to win, you must believe you are the best.
So is this supremacist? Is this racist? Let us hope so, for racism is that very thing which our enemies covet as it gives strength and nourishment to their gene pool. It is, in fact, the chosen recipe for any people’s success designed by Mother Nature Herself. It is normal, it is natural, it is as old as the first spark of higher life, and may there be a bane attached forever to all enemies who deny White people those normal, healthy racist, supremacist tenets they rightfully cherish for themselves.
Let us celebrate what we have! Why should we be ashamed, or marginalize our accomplishments, our culture, our intellect, our creativity, or our good looks? What profit is there to a man or woman who celebrates equality or mediocrity? If we believe we are superior we will act accordingly, for our future is, above all other factors, determined by how we view ourselves. This is why the religion of the Jews, with its ethnocentric flavor and unabashedly racist, supremacist tenets identifying them as “God’s Chosen People” and “The Apple of God’s Eye” has been so instrumental in their advancement and survival. And, this is why the watered down, contemporary religion of the west, with its international orientation and teachings on original sin, guilt, nonresistance, equality, meekness, and self-abasement has been so devastating to the post-war Aryan peoples.
If there is such a thing as God’s chosen people, we Aryans are they, not the ugly step-sister of the Middle East. The glass slipper of Cinderella fits us, not the Jew. Our ancestors warned us of the haters of beauty through their fairy tales. For the Beast wants to be beautiful itself, and the only way it can is by destroying the truly beautiful and then redefining beauty. The story of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs illustrates this wonderfully.
Beauty is selectively responsive — flowers, trees, wild animals and beautiful people — all must receive the proper nourishment or they will fade, wither and die. Unlike the ugly, they cannot survive in filth, neglect, or moral decay. And, for beauty to reach its apotheosis it awaits that One Who appears at an appointed time, as in the tale of Sleeping Beauty. And, quite often this One is a man or woman against time, disregarded or ridiculed when clad in other than noble semblance. The precious story of Beauty and the Beast, handed down through the years, reminds us of this truth.
Beauty cannot be bluffed, yet when such an attempt is made, no courage may be found in the obsequious masses to declare the truth — that ugly is not beautiful, that simply because certain humans are of racial categories protected and favored by the Urban Men and their toadies, their visages are coequal to that of the fairest Aryan woman. The truth will only proceed from the pure in heart, those of an unspoiled childlike boldness — a lesson we learned as kids but forgot as adults in The Emperor’s New Clothes.
All those animal friends who are completed — the bear, the wolf, the elk — remind us that beauty is earned, not bequeathed, that it occurs at the end and not the beginning of the evolutionary struggle. And, as we hope and pray for the secure existence of our people and a future for our Aryan children we can take comfort in the tribulation we go through now; all that is necessary is good, and it is necessary that we bow our heads and come victorious through our times of trouble that began just several short generations ago, for in the end the beauty of our folk will blossom forth, just as it was encoded in our genes, just as it was in the story of The Ugly Duckling.
Big noses have always been associated with wickedness, ugliness, and mendacity. And so it is as late as 1883 we are blessed with the creation of Carlo Collodi — The Adventures of Pinocchio. Pinocchio, you will recall, is known for having a short nose which becomes longer when he is telling a lie. The implication of associating dishonesty with a large proboscis is unmistakable; indeed, to this day ‘Pinocchio’ is a term used to describe a person who is prone to lying, or exaggerating or fabricating stories for pecuniary or sympathetic gain; again, all too familiar! Laugh you may, but ask yourself, in your hearts of hearts — all else being equal, would you trust a person possessing a large nose, more or less than one without? Verily, the age old conflict between probity and the proboscis runs deep.
So my Aryan brothers and sisters let us exhort one another, do our duty, and uphold Nature’s gifts to us, so the beauty of our Aryan people shall not perish from the face of this earth.
Summer has come to a close in the Homeland. Early last October one of the families in our area again hosted a Harvest Party — a fun gathering of our folk. While religious backgrounds differed (Quakers, Euro-pagans, Seventh-Day Adventists, NS-Hitlerians, Nondenominational Christians, etc.) we all had common values, and it was nice to spend an afternoon in the company of your own people where there was no presence of alcohol, no foul language, no tobacco, no immodest clothing, and no inappropriate behavior.
The week before that I went on a hike with our youngest son to the top of Mt. Hyndman, located in the Pioneer range in central Idaho, just north of Ketchum. At 12,009 feet elevation it is the highest peak in that range, although when you are at the summit you can see the Lost River range to the north wherein resides Mt. Borah, Idaho’s highest peak at about 12,600 feet. It was a wonderful climb; we camped the night before at about 7,500 feet (always a good idea as you can acclimate yourself to the thinner air) and left about 5:00 am for the ascent. The picture below was taken just as the sun hit the eastern rampart, and the sky-lined ridge on the right is what we took to the summit. It was a wonderful, inspirational hike, although I freely admit I do not do well in high places. The ridge we took is pretty much sheer on the north face, and there is something very unsettling about looking down and seeing an eagle soar, or a mountain goat looking up at you from a ledge far below. Then the old vertigo kicks in, and that little voice says jump! Still, it’s food for the soul, and we’re already looking forward to climbing Mt. Borah next fall.
Farnham O’Reilly is the pen name of a businessman, farmer and investor. A family man, his home is in the Pacific Northwest. Information on Coming Home may be found at www.familyhomenorthwest.com