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Monday, 27 January 2020

Is Diversity Destroying the Unique Souls of Whites?



Preface


The Sneak Ruler regime, dedicated to the ethnocide of the white peoples, tells white people that they are identical to other races, that they and they alone have no distinct or uniquely good qualities and characteristics. But in the book Sweet Dreams and Terror Cells, Frank Raymond dares to aver that the white mind soars above the biologically derived imperatives of the quest for bread and material goodies, of jealousy that springs from the primal force of sex, and sports that derive from the primal hunt with stone and spear. The white mind transcends these biologically derived drives and yearns to explore the continents and the stars, to split the atom and understand the inner workings of Nature, to climb Mount Everest “because it’s there.” The white mind is, above all, a child mind, with the innocence and flexibility of the mind-souls of children. Following are the ruminations of Shane Douglas, the protagonist of Sweet Dreams and Terror Cells, as he staves off the pain of torture by intense concentration upon the soul of his people, the soul of white man and Caucasian woman. Shane describes the child mind of the whites, the imagination of white children, and the vicious attempts by the Sneak Ruler enemy to destroy the innocence and promise of those children by robbing them of their dreams, their fairy tales, their family lives, and inciting them to become sluts and perverts who are befuddled by gender dysphoria. A reading of the entire book will reveal the entire canvas of the issue of white soul and the campaign to expunge it. The book is available at Amazon. It is a great literary work that reveals new ideas about the uniqueness of Whites.


Extract


When whites, from Vancouver to Auckland, glanced at the faces that now surrounded and pressed upon them, faces of aliens from three and more continents, and felt the suffocation of the all-vulgarizing Enemy media, from Hollywood to the trashy animated cartoons for children, they saw something. They saw that their souls were about to be taken from them in the Enemy-shaped culture and non-white society that they would have to live in till their final extinction. They saw it in the faces of the non-whites that walked past them.

It was difficult for anyone to define the soul of a people, or of an individual, but Shane now made a confused, halting series of forays into this thicket. He would get there.

Whites were about to lose, were already losing, the child within, the dreaming wonder of the child mind, the spirit that yearned to break free and fly free, to reach beyond, and the world of the imagination: romance, fantasy and the mythic. The white peoples are Peter Pan peoples, wanting to retain the child within: the child with the open mind, the hopeful outlook, the innocence that sees the world as a beautiful place, a kindly place, a verdant northern forest in which he and she will encounter friends — owls, foxes, badgers, bears — on every path and in every cave, underground home, and cozy cottage built inside the trunk of a tree. Knock on the little door on that tree trunk, and an owl will open it and peer at you through its reading glasses. He will tell you the way to the house of The Three Bears, who can give you dinner and a bed for the night. It is an interesting forest, full of slopes and brakes, dips and hollows, streams and dells, glades and copses, and long untrodden tracks winding away and beckoning to somewhere mysterious.

In that spirit, the white would like to make a world for his people, his kinfolk and ethnic community, such that if his or her car has broken down in the cold and ice of a Minnesota winter, or he or she is stuck in a town with little money, the first person they meet will help, give them hot coffee and perhaps even a bed. We are an idealistic and hopeful people, with the innocence and hope of children.

The white peoples refuse to “grow up” and become practical consumer animals, grimly practical engineers, worker bees in the cells of the tenement and high-rise honeycomb. They see Oriental parents push their children mercilessly to study, study, study and work, work, work for the one object that they value: material success. Those parents do not let their kids dream. They do not comprehend the appeal of Peter Pan or the meaning of the phrase “The dreaming wonder of the child mind.” Shane saw the contrast. When Gregory read William Brown books at the age of 55, it showed that the Peter Pan that lived in his mind was still strong.

Whites recognize that spirit and outlook in each other, hence they smile spontaneously at each other on the street, even if they are strangers. It is a sharing of the sight of the friendly forest, and of the European landscape of the meadows rolling away from the village to the hills beyond, with the grey spire of the old church in the distance, pointing upwards through the trees. It is the sharing of the spirit of optimism of the child within. That is what prompts the smile. In contrast, strangers do not smile at each other in India or Kuwait, Lagos or Shanghai.

When his friend the fairy Tinker Bell lay dying, Peter Pan knew that she would live only if humans believed in her, believed in fairies, and willed her to live with good wishes and prayers from the heart. And Peter Pan had called out “Do you believe in fairies?” The white mind would always believe in fairies, and whites would always be a Peter Pan people, with the child strong within them, so long as they lived in a community of their own, mutually supporting and nourishing the white soul within them. Only so long as they could be themselves in a society and nation of their own.

Whites knew, as they were forced to adjust to their alien neighbors, to avoid the jokes and humor that the aliens could not grasp, to change their school texts to suit the aliens, to cease to sing Christmas carols in the schools, to live in concrete monstrosities wherein they could not see the warm eyes of their friends the squirrel and the raccoon, that they were losing their very souls.

“We are losing our very souls.” Shane was looking at the case of one Lynda Hall and her daughter Cyndi. Lynda was a great liberal who did not consciously think of race because she had been told not to, by the Mind Masters. To think of race might lead her to become conscious of the genocide of her race, of the loss of its national rights, and of the constant belittling of it in the media, the movies and the universities. Besides, race did not exist. The Mind Masters had told her that, and she believed it. If it does not exist, you will not defend it. There is nothing to defend. But subconsciously she had strong notions about race: When Vancouver and Canada became Chinese and East Indian with no whites, it would be “a better society.” Because, as decreed by Providence, our time is up. She had said so, finally bringing to the surface her core beliefs, under the guidance and pressure of his probing questions. Subconsciously she had long felt that the Other Races were better than the whites.

1950s Canada when White children were allowed to play on their own without serving the Sneak Rulers

And yet at 60 Lynda still had the soul of her people, for she had been brought up by ‘traditional’ parents in a traditional white society, and one part of her mind was free from the Mind Masters of Hollywood and the BBC. However, her daughter Cyndi, now 30, had lost her soul. Romance, fantasy, the mythic: all gone. And Cyndi was a profoundly unhappy woman. She did not have the love of nature, fires, camping, the campfire, and the mythic literature that gave her mother such comfort. She had never known the joy of a folk community of whites, of working as part of a volunteer group to make a bird refuge on land donated by a farmer, and then feeling the warmth of a community of fellow souls and kinsfolk in the semi-annual barbecues of the volunteer group. Her mother had experienced all of that.

That was something to explore, the loss of the soul by this generation, the loss of the soul as exemplified by Lynda and Cyndi. Later …

So much had been lost, was being lost. The next, the last, generation of whites would be deprived of all that nourished their souls. Their parents had already been vulgarized by the Enemy, fed a steady diet of Friends, Seinfeld and Sex and the City. Already they had eschewed, surrendered, large chunks of their heritage. The schools no longer had Christmas pageants and no longer sang Christmas carols, and public squares were not allowed to show Nativity scenes. Because they had, after centuries of custom, become part of the white cultural heritage and tradition, and were therefore — for now — a part of its felt identity. The regime pretended that it would “offend people of other religions.” Students were obligated to read not Milton or D. H. Lawrence but the mediocre literary output of alien authors such as Elie Wiesel, and of aliens who obviously nourished a vicious hatred for white people: Gloria Anzaldua, Jamaica Kincaid and Toni Morrison. For poetry, instead of the haunting beauty of “The Highwayman” our young are compelled to read “Howl” by the foul Allen Ginsberg.

Next, as surely as night followed day, parents and schools would eschew and give up traditions such as the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Egg Hunt. It was too Caucasian and “Eurocentric,” and of course “Eurocentric” was equivalent to “criminal,” particularly in the universities, the avant-garde of the anti-white social regime. It started in the universities, a key stronghold of the Enemy, it blared its way through the media, and it ended in the streets and homes.

He could see into the future planned by the Enemy, the Sneak Rulers. Teddy bears would have to go. They were too Eurocentric, hence “racist,” and the other races would be “offended.” Schools and nurseries would no longer have books like Animal Friends, with pictures showing the animals getting together for a hoedown and then sharing a feast at a generously laden table. After all, that was too Eurocentric, and did not reflect the mind, traditions and ‘values’ of peoples from Africa and Asia. Children’s books must adjust to the “new demographic.” And to the new morality.

He had heard that the Vancouver School Board had placed in the libraries of elementary schools such gems as Mom and Mum are Getting Married, billed as “Lesbian wedding with kids involved.” Not to mention And Tango Makes Three, in which male penguins hatch an abandoned egg. Yes, a society of all males can create future generations of life, such was the intended message and brain implant. You didn’t need a man and woman in marriage, you didn’t need heterosexuality, to continue the life of your folk and to create new life and more generations of your people. That was “living in the past.” Mom and Mum was the way to “an inclusive and diverse society.” Under the guise of preventing “hate” and bullying of homosexuals, they were craftily breeding and inciting homosexuality in kids of elementary school age. They were working to ensure no next generation of whites. Genociders, murderers of an entire people.

Just as they used “hate laws” and the accusation of “hate” to enable the colonization and dispossession of white peoples. It was the way of Cultural Marxism to morally cow the victim with accusations of immoral behavior such as “hate” so as to ride roughshod over him, rob him, gag him, dispossess him and control him. The school boards and teachers’ associations had long ago been brainwashed and bamboozled into being the agents of Cultural Marxism, the Trojan horse of the Enemy.

White children playing before the Sneak Rulers assumed control over their lives

It had started with the naked terror and openly wielded power of Bolshevism. Bolshevism later became slyer. It adapted to resistance, went underground, and formed the variant known as Cultural Marxism. Cultural Marxism was Bolshevism advancing in slow motion, and it effected its aims not by secret police terror, but by crippling and twisting the minds of its victims. Then Cultural Marxism acquired an enforcement arm: “Political Correctness.” And Political Correctness had its commandments:
Thou shalt not think or say that which will help thee to escape from the deadly path to slavery, oblivion, and the replacement of thy people. Above all, thou dare not think or speak anything that might bring to sight the transparent, nigh-invisible snake of grinning sand-born devils that coils around states, governments, media and minds.
Yes, the Enemy had a Bolshevik vision of the proles that they would rule over with ease, and there was no place for a single white person in that future prole society consisting of girls that were underdressed over-cosmeticked sluts in early teenage, and of bastards brought up in gigantic state-run foster homes. The Enemy hated the sight of any family, and especially a white family, sitting around the dinner table, with the kids having dinner home-cooked by mom, enjoying the company of their mum and dad. They did not like showing that in a TV sitcom. No, they preferred to show Will and Grace, homosexual role models for the society of the New World Order. The Enemy had an ‘ideal’ of the kind of mongrel prole that they would enjoy dominion over: debased, depraved, self-despising, prideless, marijuana-smoking, drug-befuddled, hidebound, earthbound, money-bound, devoid of the roots and moorings of family, nation, race, history, heritage and culture. And without a soul.

“We are losing our very souls.” Well, the Enemy had done a good job of killing that soul. One indicator of that was the fact that no one in this generation had even heard of the William Brown books, despite their interesting plots, wry humor and timeless charm. The man or woman who was so dumbed down that he or she was ‘entertained’ by the incessant canned laughter, moronic humor and behavioral antics of Seinfeld and The Big Bang Theory was not going to enjoy William Brown, the trenchant insights and descriptive metaphors of John le Carré, or even the period-piece realism and authentic flavor of the television series Downton Abbey. All these would have to go. The family at dinner table: that would have to go. Anything of white society and white culture would have to go, with black heroes mysteriously replacing white heroes and “good guys,” as in the remake of The Manchurian Candidate, or the movie version of the Michael Crichton book Rising Sun. Would Alice in Wonderland last much longer, have a place in schools? Did it have a place now? It would all go, it would have to go, to usher in the “modern multicultural state and vibrant diverse multicultural society.”

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