Audacity

 

It goes without saying we are living in dark and dangerous times.

The enemy continuously attempts to erode the very joy and happiness of the Thanksgiving and Christmas Season with spineless and cowardly acts of violence followed by the status-quo compounding pack of repugnant LIES.

But what can we expect from Mongrels?

Honestly? Is it any surprise their tactics are those of criminals who attack and murder the innocent like Eight year old Jackson Sparks who was just beginning his life?

It is at times like these when we, the dissident remnant, must call upon those deep inner reserves of strength, character and resolve our forefathers invested in us so long ago for such a time as this.

We must not forget that we carry the very flame, the very FIRE that in generations past has served to depose marxist tyranny and unify it’s people with the infinite battle cry of blood and soil.

Not one more step backward should be our battle cry.

Let the words of Frederick the Great ring true:

“Audacity, Audacity, Always Audacity!”

Stand up to the Rising of the Tide.

 

 

Remain Standing

On Veterans Day 2021, This is my Message to all Active Duty Military and Veterans alike being Betrayed by their own weak Government:

 

 

I intend to Remain Standing for as long as it takes

to vanquish the Oppressor, to even the Stakes

My Oath and my Honor to these Things I Hold True

To Defend My Beliefs Until Death? Yes! This I will Do

Make No mistake the Day of Reckoning will Soon Come

When Traitors will Hang and Justice Be Done.

 

On Masculinity

On Masculinity

 

Thought provoking read.

This paragraph particularly caught my eye:

“Refined masculinity is the result of taking this animalistic instinct and forcefully civilizing it. It is the iron that has been removed of its impurities and forged into an object that can do some good. Through discipline and struggle, we are forged from savages into men capable of building civilization. It is the duty of the current generation of men to forge the newer generation into something greater than themselves. When this tradition is neglected, rot begins to set in.

The Farmer (Poem by Free Idealist)

The Farmer

 

Walking down the bloodied street,

I enjoy the dirt upon my feet,

That feeling that feels so sweet,

Of earthen dust so fine and neat.

I’m stared at by the men of town,

Their faces full of scowl and frown,

Who look so often always down,

So deep in debt they just might drown.

I laugh to myself at jokes in mind,

Jokes too rude for one to find,

In such a place like this, so kind,

Where all are woke, and yet so blind.

I travel here for a simple task:

To fill their pantry and their flask.

I’m given no thanks, and I do not ask,

In the goodness of this deed I bask.

I have no time for the fools of throne,

Whose songs are sung and horns are blown.

I care quite little for their walls of stone,

Instead I linger with the seeds I’ve sown.

Watching them grow from year to year,

Wiping away each and every tear,

Cultivating these souls so dear,

And teaching them to never fear.

While I’m in town I’ll just be polite,

Because I know full well I’ll be alright.

I’ll lay in bed with my wife tonight,

And fill her full of much delight.