Meet, Eat, & Move Forward

^[1]1,112 words

This essay is from Michael Polignano’s book Taking Our Own Side, available in hardcover and paperback here ^[2].

German translation here ^[3]

November 30, 2003

In the spring of 1999, during my Freshman year at Emory University I received a package. I knew it contained a copy of David Duke’s My Awakening, which I had purchased off Amazon.com a week or so earlier. Before opening it, I made sure I was alone in my dorm room, because of the oppressive atmosphere of Political Correctness on campus.

Earlier that year, a friend had been kicked out of his dormitory for jokingly teasing his roommate (also a friend of mine) by putting up a picture of two attractive women outside their room with a dialog box saying “Too bad you’re gay, S—.” The lesbian couple in charge of the hall saw it, took offense, reported it, and after a “hearing” my friend was barred from university housing. The reason cited was that his actions “created an uncomfortable environment for gays and lesbians.”

Of course nobody cared that the whole affair created an uncomfortable environment for me and anyone else with politically incorrect thoughts: That was the whole point. Thus I knew I had to be extremely careful while exploring the race question to avoid the same fate.

Once alone, I ripped open the package like a child at Christmas. I quickly examined the contents of the book and immediately knew I was in for a good read. Yet oddly enough, I hesitated to begin. I wondered if I was committing a great evil by even daring to consider “racist” and “anti-Semitic” ideas. I dismissed this thought as wildly irrational, but even then I took great care to insure no one else knew what I was reading. I felt that I would be shunned and denounced, even by close friends, for displaying an interest in alternative viewpoints.

Shortly after my column on race, IQ, and crime appeared during my Junior year, I was contacted by several local sympathizers who saw the coverage of the race forum on the local news. When I arranged to meet with one, a lawyer and longtime racial activist, I was still extremely cautious about how I treated the race/intelligence issue, being accustomed to the scripted disgust showed by many at Emory at the very suggestion that racial differences in intelligence have a genetic origin. So I avoided discussion of the political and social implications of Arthur Jensen’s research, sticking instead to defending it on its scientific merit.

After talking for several minutes, it became clear that my concern was unfounded, for this man spoke frankly about not only race, but also about political issues like Duke’s campaigns for public office in Louisiana, as well as the Jewish question. I can’t describe how exhilarated I felt when I learned I could speak with complete frankness with my soon-to-be friend.

I had, of course, discussed these issues with people online, and I had even met some like-minded people in person about an hour outside of Atlanta. But I never knew anyone who lived close by who shared my views on racial matters, and unconsciously I thought everywhere within a ten mile radius of Emory was hostile territory as far as the truth about race was concerned.

It’s amazing that such brainwashing and intimidation can occur in a supposedly free country, but I’m certain many readers can readily identify with how I felt during my path to racial awareness, and the feeling of liberation upon finding like-minded others.

The benefits of establishing face-to-face communities are many: friendship, education, networking, etc. Above all, however, is the psychological benefit of having one’s own heartfelt beliefs affirmed by others.

Even independent thinkers can benefit from such affirmation, since no one enjoys social isolation. Regardless of how logical and well-considered one’s opinions are, if one is alone in holding them one feels unfulfilled on a deep subconscious level. At best, such feelings fester into misanthropy. At worst, they lead to depression. I have experienced both, and neither is healthy.

It is relatively easy to establish a network of like-minded friends through online message boards and instant messenger services. Such virtual communities can be helpful for discussing ideas and feeling somewhat less alienated. Online contacts can also be a prelude to in-person encounters, especially when discovering people who live close by.

But all things equal, online friends are a poor substitute for real-world friends. Until one meets online friends in person, one always wonders if they are for real. Shared ideas are only one part of friendship, and the other character traits that play a role cannot be easily discerned through a computer screen.

The Atlanta lawyer I met introduced me to a group he referred to as the “Tuesday Night Club.” Jokingly, he called it the “Hate Group.” The group met weekly in a private dining room at a local restaurant. Typically between 5 and 20 people showed up. They were a rather impressive group. All of them were well-read, well-spoken, and deeply concerned about our race and its problems. Most of them were remarkably accomplished as well. There were a number of lawyers, several successful businessmen, a doctor, a couple of Ph.D.s, and so forth. Although there were lively differences of opinion, all agreed on the basics of racial difference and on the need for radical change in public policy.

The Tuesday Night Club was not an activist group, although many of its members are very active in the pro-White cause. Instead, it was what Tom Metzger satirizes as a “meet, eat, and retreat” group. Primarily we just talked. Usually the appointed “Hate Master” would pose a question to mull over while we read the menu and enjoyed side conversations. Then, after the food appeared, we would go around the table and each person would give his or her take on the topic.

Sometimes the meetings were depressing. Admit it: there is a lot to be depressed about. But I always came away better informed and with new and often improved perspectives. The meetings also served to radicalize more moderate individuals who see America’s racial problems but aren’t sure what to do about them. I also appreciated the chance to practice my public speaking in front of a friendly audience. And, on a deeper psychological level, all the meetings were positive just because they were a genuine, face-to-face community.

I admire the hard work and dedication of those who have created virtual White communities on the internet, through news sites, broadcasts, and discussion forums. But I would like to encourage Whites to take the next step: forming face-to-face communities, and a weekly dinner and discussion group is an excellent model to follow.