HARRISON DAILY TIMES Sunday, April 27, 1997

Letters to the Editor

Last summer I was heartened for awhile by three letters to the Times that touched on the topic of race in non-politically correct terms. I had hoped others would follow suit ... even that you, Mr. Editor, would write something about that subject. My hopes have been dashed. With the re-election of Bill Clinton, it is quite obvious that the moral fiber of the majority of people resident in this multi-cultural zoo has frayed beyond a tailor's needle to repair. As the great Greek dramatist, Euripides, said more than 2400 years ago: "He whom the gods would destroy, they first make insane." The destruction of this society is imminent. For not a day passes that one hears of yet another crazy happening or insane proposal.

Why should I then, risk ridicule and abuse by continuing to write letters the contents of which most would rather not read? Perhaps because there is a tiny hope that I might reach a few young people with my racial message before they have lost all contact with the cradle song of their glorious Viking ancestry.

How glad I am that I was born in 1924. Actually, I would have preferred being born 40 years earlier. Then I would have lived in a better time and have been long gone before having to painfully watch the destruction, through societal degeneracy, of the country I once loved. Still, having been born in 1924 allowed me the joy of growing up in a white nation in which I took much pride: A time when lawsuits were so rare we never thought of them. A time when freedom of speech, freedom of thought, and freedom of action was almost limitless. A time when I could identify with all members of sports teams. A time when teachers carefully guarded their good reputations, and hence, were respected by all. A time when law enforcement officers and judges were feared only by the criminal element, and were held in high esteem by the citizenry. A time when Feds were far away and never engaged in shooting mothers with babies in arms nor burning children to death in helpless villages as they recently did in Idaho and Waco. Neither were they constantly invading your privacy and telling you what to do. A time when almost everything bought was made in USA by USA workers who earned enough so their wives could stay home as homemakers and properly care for their children. A time without welfareites; without middle class income tax; without state sales tax. When you could hire and fire whomever you wished; sell your house to whomever you wished; restrict your club membership to whomever you wished. A time (1940) when Ginger Rogers in the movie "Kitty Foyle" could still say, "Well, I'm free, white, and 21, so I can..."

Yes, growing up in the thirties was infinitely more satisfying than such today. Our parents cared about what we read or saw then. There were no books in my elementary and high school libraries that contained disgusting four-letter words. Nor were such books for sale in book stores. As late as 1953 the Public Library in Beurnom, Texas kept James Joyce's "Ulysses" under lock and key. I know. I checked it out. How tame was Joyce's book compared to the smutty books now freely available to all in public libraries. There were no films shown the public in those days full of vulgar language; larded with obscene lust and mindless violence, and filled with kissing scenes that look more like corn-on-the-cob eating contests than a show of affection.

Movies were a pleasure to watch then, Heroes were heroic. Youth was encouraged by them to be gallant, sober, honest, honorable. Tom Mix, Buck Jones, Ken Maynard and other western stars never drank hard liquor ... they invariably ordered a soft drink at the saloon bar. They never uttered curse words. They usually only wounded the badmen. We kids did not fantasize killing anyone. That was just too horrible to imagine. Movie stars then were conscious of their influence upon the young. They sure influenced me. Some of the code I live by today came from my cowboy heroes. I do live by a code, you know. One that is very positive and very demanding.

In the 30s we were a braver youth. We never struck girls. We honored old people. We would have never assaulted the elderly. We disliked faggots intensely. The common response to an unnatural proposition from that lot was a kick in the seat of their pants. We defended our honor then. No self-respecting young man would ever accept an insult to his parents without fighting ... even if he knew he'd get licked. Being called a "sissy" was a fighting word.

Yes. I grew up when romance was still in flower. When true love was still possible. When faithfulness to one's betrothed was the normal response when distance separated them. When love was of the heart not just some grunting, rutting, sexual encounter. Love and marriage went together like a horse and carriage in those halcyon days. You couldn't have one without the other. Now marriage is little more than tryouts for divorce and swaps. Shackups are as common as roaches in a hashhouse. While we of the 1930s and early 40s looked with disgust and horror on anyone stupid enough to use drugs, a rarity almost unknown then. Drug use is now a scourge of young and old alike – a sign of a dreadfully ill society and a failed political system. Democracy is almost the worst political system imaginable. Rule by greeds and dolts.

We also defended our race in those days. We were exceedingly proud we were of Aryan blood. We were proud of our ancestors who built so many civilizations. I still am! Aryan civilizations were much earlier than those of the wandering Semites of Mesopotamia. The latest, most exciting Aryan finds are the mummies recently dug up in the eastern Tarim Basin of far west China. These mummies appear to be 4500 Plus years old. I had the expected honor of viewing a few of these Aryan mummies in the National Museum at Urumchi, Sinkiang Province in January, 1986 while there on an oil exploration consulting assignment for the Chinese Petroleum Co. I was puzzled by these obviously Aryan mummies; my guide was no help. I take some pleasure in having seen them a year before the American archaeological team arrived there from the University of Pennsylvania to make a scientific study of them. Now much interesting work is being done with them. They indicate that we Aryans may have brought the wheel to China ... and other advances as well. (Weaving has now been traced to Europe and there are other indications that gun powder, rockets, and what they knew of mathematics, had their roots in Aryan lands. RF)

So, instead of donning the hairshirt of guilt and the dunce's cap our enemies have malevolently provided us through their mind-bending propaganda tools (they own the media, Hollywood and the government, you know), which results in a disastrous loss of heritage sense, pride, and purpose for our lives – especially the lives of our youth; let's tell those deadly enemies to go take a running jump into an active volcano ... and their spawn with 'em.

Yes, I'm so glad I was a young man when the USA was still a nation. A nation of one blood. Japan is a nation. No multi-cultural country can ever be a nation: except by apartheid.