Suicide is one of the oddest ways to die. We imagine the kind of despair a man must reach to want to kill himself—the dark winds blowing through his soul, the self-piteous dry heaves, the closeted sniveling—and we tremble. Most of us have at some time, in the quiet hours of the night, brushed against these thoughts and felt tempted. But, in the end, we chose to press on. We persevered. Moreover, by choosing to live, we cannot help but look at those who chose death with disgust. Our souls must love life, or at the very least, love it enough to tolerate it. We may look the other way for suicides in the case of some terminal or debilitating illness, but we are always disgusted by a suicide of the fit and vigorous.
In our bones, we can feel the arrogance of such an act. Death is only as noble as it comes in its own due course, or given for a righteous cause.
With this in mind, it must be asked: why are whites listening to the voices telling us to put a pistol to our heads? In the newspapers, we see white feminists bemoaning the overpopulation of the world and urging women to stop having children. It won’t stop Somalian or Indonesian mother from popping out children until their wombs prolapse. It will only stop the muddle-headed and much too affluent white woman. On college campuses, we see white students apologizing to colored students for the so-called privileges of whiteness. Whatever privileges the students of color were given, from government financial aid to weighted test scores, the full gamut of affirmative action, we will find none of the colored students apologizing for these privileges. It is only the whites who grovel.
On the news, the Pakistani mayor of London lectures whites on how we have to accept Islamic terror because it is “part and parcel” of big city living. Meanwhile, in two vast metropolises, Tokyo and Seoul, we find no Sunni pressure cookers stashed in dumpsters—there are no Muslims there to carry out such attacks. The talking heads on the nightly news never lecture Asian nations on how they should tolerate the bullets and bombs of Muslim immigrants. Only whites must grit their teeth and bear it.
These voices urging us on to self-immolation come from all sides these days: the mulatto news anchor, the bullhorns in the student union, the twice-divorced actress on daytime television, the tender kindergarten teacher with a closet full of Christmas sweaters—no need to carry on with an endless list. They are a motley crew, but in their hearts they cherish a common goal: the dogmatic desire to see whites scrubbed out of existence. Of course, these same people want the fruits of white civilization, just not the grand old tree from which they fell. They want the penicillin, the smallpox vaccinations, the aspirin—just not the white men in white coats who helped bring these things into being. They want iPhones, internet access, and cookie-cutter blog sites; all originally made by whites and all used to spread hatred of whites.
These are people driven by bitter, black emotions. The ethnics among them claim that whites live in hatred of all skin tones of black or brown or gray, while most whites listening to this preaching nod their heads and agree. For a race so filled with hatred, why are whites constantly agreeing with and apologizing to those who now seek to stamp us out? Ethnic foot soldiers are motivated by envy, a universal sin that crops up in all societies and all people. But the whites who join their foot soldier cause are motivated by a sin much bleaker than envy—that is, moral cowardice.
Many whites are now afraid to assert their right to exist, to thrive, to live in the fullness of their potential. Whites want a noble cause to pursue, but they hardly ever stop to question how they define the nobility of their cause. Their minds have been bleached into thinking that whiteness is separable from “white”, and that their existence is inherently evil. Once they believe this lie, then they themselves become accomplices to this brainwashing. These people, the purse-givers and the Judases who quietly take the purse, I call “whitewashers”.
Merriam-Webster and Oxford English may raise their voices in complaint at me for taking an already defined and sharply bordered word and twisting it to my own ends. But I remain firm on this choice. One of the definitions of ‘whitewash’ is vaguely applicable to our situation: to gloss over or cover up (as in the case of a scandal, vice, or crime). In our case, the crime is being white, the vice is living up to our potential, and the cover up is to fool us into believing we have no potential. We are told that the towering churches we built are just dust. We are persuaded to think that our science is a fabrication exposed before the light of ethnic truth. In short, everything whites have done is bunk.
Now that we have identified this curious creature, the whitewasher, let’s examine him in more detail. The whitewasher speaks as if every color, every shade or tint is welcome in the great tapestry of diversity. But his rainbow is not a rainbow at all. Upon closer inspection, we find that his rainbow is a quaint mixture of browns and grays, a panorama of earth tones with one shade curiously absent: the whites have been carefully expunged.
This is the modus operandi of a whitewasher: to hand over as much power as possible, as broadly as possible, to those who are not white.
A lot of power has already been lost. It has trickled away over decades of cultural infiltration and the whitewashers now have gathered many tools in their toolbox. Let’s examine a few these tactics, or rather, surgical torture devices from the whitewasher’s bag.
The first tool of the whitewasher is a word. Just one word—deadly, insidious, and at the moment, omnipresent. The word in question is well known to Americans: the word is diversity. This is the overarching word that for decades has been spoonfed one dose at a time to the American mind. The politicians and professors assure us with smug, smirking lips that “Diversity is our strength!” They, however, live in gated communities. The military promises us that our soldiers jump higher and run faster because of diversity. Hide your eyes from the terror. Corporations also proudly flaunt their diversity in advertisements and full color brochures, as if having an Asian or Hispanic at the corner cubicle magically makes everything run more efficiently.
Whitewashers have made diversity the 21st century’s cure-all.
Now that we have identified diversity as a form of modern snake oil, it is important to understand the term more fully. First and foremost, we have to separate the word and its practice from the warm, fuzzy haze that the whitewasher has created around it.
Diversity means, more or less, a variety or multiplicity of differences. We can see immediately that words like ‘variety’ and ‘difference’ only have meaning in comparison between several unlike things. There is no ‘variety’ among a collection of white cubes, but add to that collection a gray cone and you have introduced diversity. In a society where whites are the majority, and the culture is distinctly Western, diversity must mean, by necessity, anything that is not white and not Western, but it also takes the form of various identities weaponized and co-opted by the left, namely women, Muslims, and the LGBT community.
The whitewasher has contorted the American paradigm to convince white Americans that our greatest strength is to refrain from being ourselves. To embrace diversity, our very nature must be rejected. We must be what we are not.
The only hiccup is that it is impossible to be what you are not; you can only be what you are. A tree cannot stop being a tree for the sake of the rocks and hills; it must simply exist as it is. It must be a tree. A white man cannot stop being white for the sake of other ethnicities; he must be what he is. He must be white.
Since neither our nature nor our genes can be changed post facto to accommodate the whitewasher, and since the whitewasher surely knows this, we can only conclude one thing: by hook or by crook, the whitewasher wants to remove whites from America. And since whitewashers appear in nearly every Western nation nowadays, it seems that the whitewasher wants to remove whites from the West itself.
In some quarters, this is a bold claim. To some, this is conspiracy theorist bilge. Yet if you want to spot it happening, you need only look around you. Examples are frighteningly abundant. Among liberals, notice just how illiberally the word diversity is applied. Nobody struts into Chinatown waving the magical wand of diversity. Nobody points his finger at a Chinese man and says, “You Chinese all have black hair and black eyes. You eat too much of your own food and speak too much Chinese. You need more diversity here.” Somehow when we apply this logic to the Chinese, it seems not only ridiculous, it seems insulting, and yet when we apply it to whites, it seems perfectly acceptable.
To further this point, notice how there is no international pressure on the NBA, which is over 70% black, to hire more whites. There are no calls to boycott the musical entertainment industry where black ‘recording artists’ have outnumbered whites for over a decade. There is no avalanche of lawsuits heaped upon the U.S. Olympic Committee for having a track and field team that was overwhelmingly black. On these points, there is only the sound of crickets and a few tumbleweeds brushing against the pavement.
Let us take a look at the recent riot in Charlotte, North Carolina. Keith Lamont Scott was a dumpy, middle-aged black man with a history of violence and a stolen pistol in his hand. After repeatedly telling Scott to drop his weapon, a black police officer was forced to fire several shots. Scott died from his wounds. Rumors swirled around the media wheel: Scott had had a book instead of a gun; Scott was a “family man”, despite the restraining order his own wife had filed against him; the police had planted the gun, despite Scott’s DNA and fingerprints found on it. Rioters ran wild for three days. One person was killed, dozens were injured, and millions of dollars were lost.
The curious point here is how the whitewashers appeared to praise the earth tones and place the blame on whites. A black officer had shot an armed black man, yet even that was the white man’s fault because, as the whitewashers claimed, whites controlled the system, and the system itself was racist. What went unmentioned was that Charlotte’s police chief is also black. The mayor of Charlotte is a wiry-haired, empty-eyed feminist. Diversity had triumphed resoundingly in Charlotte, and yet the whitewashers were there, spinning their webs of white blame.
Scott’s brother called all white people “devils” on television. Black rioters caused untold damage to white-owned property and the media claimed the protests were “mostly peaceful”. Ten black men brutally beat a white man, David Palmer, as he walked home from having dinner at his sister’s house. A veteran who had served in Afghanistan, Palmer had his eye socket fractured and bones shattered all throughout his face. It will take years of reconstructive surgery to set his face right again. The blacks who had assaulted him shouted, “You’re in the danger zone, white boy!” The same media that was willing to stoke the fires of diversity on behalf of Scott went curiously silent for the white victims of hate crimes.
The next tool in the whitewasher’s box is yet another word. It is a word that can stifle careers, bring down prominent politicians, or topple Nobel laureates. Once whites start to question the sanctity of diversity, this is the word the whitewasher flings like an ape flinging turds at a territorial invader—racist.
The effects of this word need not be analyzed too deeply in this article. The shiver that runs down a white man’s spine when he hears the word at his workplace is proof enough. If you have ever wondered what the Salem witch trials were like, just observe the self-righteous attitude of one man who calls another a racist.
Presidential nominee Donald Trump wants to curb immigration, which means curbing the whitewasher’s plan to displace whites, and he therefore gets called a racist. The word is repeated vehemently, and often without one ounce of evidence to prove that Trump is a racist. Trump fought to allow minorities into his Palm Beach private club. Doesn’t matter: he’s a racist. Trump hires people of all ethnicities. Doesn’t matter: racist. Trump could swim up a river to save three black babies from drowning and the media would still call him racist for assuming that black babies could not swim. He is a racist because he no longer buys into diversity.
James Watson, one of the men behind the discovery of the DNA double helix, had the audacity to say aloud what is confirmed by all scientific evidence: Africans have low IQs. He is a Nobel laureate and now he is out of a job. He lost his chancellorship at Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory, although he supposedly still gets to have an advisory role there. In reality, they threw him in a corner with some crumbs to gnaw on. He is not a racist because he is a racist; he is a racist because he no longer buys into diversity.
Meanwhile, Black Lives Matter rioters are stomping on a white man’s face in Charlotte. Salon publishes a piece on why white men “must be stopped”. The Huffington Post has an article telling whites what is not permissible for them to say. Two black cops open fire on a white man with his hands in the air and kill his autistic son, an event about which the media remain eerily silent. Sweden is telling native-born Swedes that they must integrate into the culture of immigrants. Germany is insisting that nothing is more dangerous than “blonde, cheerful families”.
The whitewasher wants us taken out of her society like a divorcee who wants her ex-husband evicted from his own home. Boots are already kicking on the door.
The final tool in the whitewasher’s box, at least the final tool I will mention here, is more than just a mere word. It is an idea that pads the lining of the whole diversity lie. It makes diversity seem somehow softer, gentler, and more comforting for whites who are watching their nations recede into an ethnic hinterland. This is a kind of existential Tylenol, which by the request of whitewashers everywhere, whites must swallow. The idea is that America was not founded on a distinct, ethno-religious bedrock, but rather, it was founded on ideals alone. If foreigners adopt these ideals, then they accordingly become Americans. Or so say the whitewashers.
We don’t need a pair of black-rimmed glasses to spot the flaws in this claim. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness only have meaning when interpreted in the broader tradition in which those words were born. The happiness of Jefferson’s era does not mean feeling good and riding in your car with the windows down, singing songs with a friend. It certainly does not mean that taxpayer cash has to pay for abortions or gender reassignment surgery.
America was a sapling grown from a stately British Yew that stretched all the way back to the Magna Carta and Anglo-Saxon common law. In this culture, happiness meant family, service, and lots of sweat. Its freedom was the freedom to pick a wife, to select a service, and to decide just how much sweat would be exuded for both. Being subsidized to mill around the house was not the British way. America was born out of, and crafted for, the descendants of this tradition: white and Christian. The men of early America could never have imagined how severely their words would be twisted into absurdities.
Some might say that the tradition from which these ideals were born is secondary to the ideals themselves. The problem with this claim, however, is that the founding fathers never intended for these ideals to be practiced by anyone but those like themselves. Being white and having mostly Christian convictions were necessary prerequisites.
An example worth noting is Liberia. The nation was founded as a safe-haven for freed slaves so that they might return to their ancestral land of Africa. Americans thought that, even across the Atlantic, the torch of liberty could blaze bright enough for all of the world to see. Africa would be transformed, just as America once was. Liberia’s constitution was nearly identical to America’s, Liberia’s government was nearly identical, and even the nation’s name took the word ‘liberty’ as its spiritual inspiration. Yet it did not take long for the rot to seep in. Today, the sewer rats in London eat better than the Liberians.
A tradition is not just its ideals but also its people: and the tradition that made America was a tradition of Europeans from a damp and drizzly island in the North Atlantic.
This truth, like all truths, is timeless. It will survive the frantic scribbling of the revisionists who hope to fool us into thinking America was always diverse. We can frame our axiom in this way: swipe a stodgy, pink eraser over American whites and you will erase America altogether. America will linger on as a geographical blob on maps, but America as a living tradition will be left to dust.
The whitewasher’s assurance that America was never an ethno-state has kept whites quiet as we have slowly receded into the sunset. We wait contently, with folded hands, smiling as we die. Whites comprised 90% of all Americans in 1940 and now we are a mere 64% of the population. If this had happened in an African nation, where Africans had dwindled to 64% of the population, the press would drum their soapboxes, sound the horns, and condemn it as genocide. For white genocide, there is only silence. The whitewasher will play games with the 64% statistic by merging whites with Hispanics but the vast majority of Hispanics in America are not white at all. They’re mestizo brown. Whites are a mere 64% of the nation and our numbers are shrinking each year. And as our light dims, so does the flame of our traditions.
America peers into the future only to find the ghosts of Rome staring back. A centurion with tired eyes sits on a toppled pillar now covered with weeds, his head resting on his hands, his mouth taut and frowning; he had done his best for civilization but his civilization had not done its best for him. He doesn’t need to speak. We need only look at the urban decay in America to understand how he feels. His world is quickly becoming our world.
Historians, if there are any left after the collapse, may wonder how we let so many years of mold build up and seep into the woodwork of our society. They may wonder how grown men could chase Pokémon as our borders were being overrun by enemies. They may marvel at how we could hand combat rifles to women as our birthrate bottomed out. In fact, they will have a wide range of absurdities on which to write.
The average man in this post-American America may also dream about what had come and gone. He may look at the crumbling skyscrapers and the abandoned hospitals and the half-fallen stadiums and, in a moment of quiet philosophy, wonder what the old traditions were like. He may imagine himself a vague successor to this civilization. He may fight for institutions that still hold the names of the old institutions but are mere imitations of their ancestors. If we of the present were to peep into this future minus whites, it would seem like children at charades. This future American may proudly call himself an “American” but he would be no different than a crowned ape carrying a king’s scepter: jewelry does not make an ape a king any more than an idea can make an outsider an American.
But this world-ending-with-a-whimper prophesy has one hitch: whites have to allow it to happen. Suicide is ultimately a choice. Leave the whitewashers to their pearly words; we have the torches of tradition to guide us through the night. Each year, we are growing steadily less afraid to assert our right to exist, to thrive, to live in the fullness of our potential. Let the whitewashers run rings around foolish minds, because their tactics won’t sway us—so long as the torches of our tradition burn.