The recent violence in Sacramento has brought me to a difficult contradiction in my way of thinking. People ask why a bunch of whites would go out onto the capitol grounds in the first place, knowing the Communist, government-school-indoctrianated thugs would be there waiting with knives, glass bottles, and guns. “It’s completely useless” they say. There’s nothing gained by it other than senseless violence. Why bother? Why feed the left with these opportunities to rally themselves?
The same sorts of arguments were made to Gary Cooper in “High Noon.” He went to visit his friend, the retired sheriff, looking for help and advice. The old sheriff sent him packing, telling him it was no use to die for a tin star.
I can go further: I’ve often written against those “alienists” who are “neo-gnostic” in their thinking, preferring abstractions over concrete, physical people. There are no “men” in this view, there are only possibilities of men. There is no “nation” other than the propositions adhered to in the abstract. This sort of abstraction seems drastically at odds with the sort of concrete, hearth-and-home racialism I advocate. The “stay-home” crowd appeals to this sort of argument as well. “Why go out and risk life and limb for mere symbols?”
Why risk death for a flag?
In Walter Scott’s “The Talisman”, Sir Kenneth pledges his life to defend the English flag from the German crusaders who, in their drunken revelry, might try and remove it. Sir Kenneth was Scottish and had no special love for the English; it was his honor, alone, that inspired him to accept the responsibility. He was the hero of the novel and if defending flags is good enough for a Walter Scott hero, shouldn’t it be good enough for us?
In point of fact, I’ve been in a similar situation as the guys in Sacramento – when Heimbach and I (along with others of our friends) stood off against a group of four-hundred or so Marxists. They tried getting violent, but thankfully, none of them had knives. They did rip the Confederate flag away from Heimbach though, and I remember diving into the crowd, being attacked, and throwing wild punches to retrieve it. And by God, retrieve it we did. Our friend Shane somehow ended up with it, was thrown to the ground by police and arrested. They drove him a mile from the crowd and dropped him off, explaining they needed to pacify the Marxists, who were quickly dispersing after the confrontation. They flew that flag at the following League of the South conference.
So, I’ve arrived at an odd contradiction and I don’t know how to resolve it. I have no doubt about how I’ll react when the symbols of my people are attacked. The symbols themselves, in some odd way that I don’t understand, represent the entirety of our people. They’re worth fighting and dying for, not because they’re cloth, or tin, or whatever, but because of what they represent.
…maybe some abstractions are worth dying for?