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Review of Jim Webb’s Born Fighting: How the Scots-Irish Shaped America

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Editor’s Note:

Originally published on February 17, 2005, this review remains to my mind one of the most memorable pieces ever to appear at VNN.

Jim Webb
Born Fighting: How the Scots-Irish Shaped America
New York: Broadway Books, 2004

I took up Mr. Webb’s book expecting another melting pot injection, but it turned out to be complex and as honest as any man could get away with after examination by the Cultural Pharisees in New York City. Born Fighting exhumes America’s ur culture; it is white, Southern (mostly), martial, somewhat indifferent to success, obdurate and ornery, and merits many more adjectives that aren’t boring. The rulers of America fear this people, and that is the most important thing. I do not exaggerate when I say they fear it. The proof is the psywar they wage against the Scots-Irish, which has so distorted them, they seem buried.

Mr. Webb resents it and we could say he is pushing back. He is what I call a linchpin white man, the type who once he withdraws his support from the system, it is finished. I cannot analyze Mr. Webb’s book without analyzing him also; Born Fighting is also autobiographical. Precisely what is he defending? He means to tear away the soiled veil America’s “elite” has flung over the reputation of the Scots-Irish since the Civil War. You will learn the animosity goes even farther back than 1861. And he explains that long before the war the elite looked down on the Scots-Irish from their choice areas along the coasts and piedmont. The friction continues its 300-year course with complications and admixtures, and is obscured by the hailstorm of race issues our media serves us to keep whites off balance. But basically, English and Scots-Irish remain separate. Mr. Webb manages to strip this veil away, but only partly. The reason is his innate limit of cynicism. Our own is active and wider-ranging and is the vanguard of our thinking. We accepted that the rulers of America and their lackeys want to eradicate whiteness. And we can prove it.

Apparently Mr. Webb does not perceive the situation as we do. Perhaps also his threshold of decency is different from ours, maybe because the system has rewarded him and he still believes it can be redeemed. Maybe he thinks that the system’s flaws, its prejudices and character assassination program against his people are aberrations, not the organic generality. But this all is not so important as the effects his book is likely to make.

For here is a groundbreaking book. By the fortune of timing, his style and skill, and by the force of his success as a soldier and author, Born Fighting will, I predict, turn out to be a miscalculation by its publisher. What the industry puts out are, of course, works that corroborate the regime’s strategy: the melting-pot myth, a borderless world, a raceless utopia. But what Born Fighting will do is wake up every white person who reads it. Let them number in the tens of millions. Born Fighting hit the stands at a time when the Old Order is fading out, when it is apparent that America is becoming a giant pool of labor and resources in the corporate web, no longer a sovereign state maintained by a people for their security and perpetuation. Propaganda, not law, rules America. To a white man or woman who wants to stay white, who loves green and the dignity of spaces, who prefers the company of his own kind and wants to preserve his culture, this time is the dawning of a nightmare. In this the white man is floundering for something solid and anchored, and the story of the Scots-Irish in America provides it. Never have I read a better account of this tribe: who they were (and are), where they came from and when, what they did and why this should be known by us. The Scots-Irish are America’s soul, spine and fist. Less matter were the planter and industrialist/merchant intelligentsia of the lowlands; you will understand that they were overrated. They had to import the Scots-Irish to protect them from the Indians. Brains without force get eaten. Mr. Webb explains the American colonies well.

But he goes to the very beginning: Hadrian’s wall, the withdrawal of the Celts into the wild Alba before the might of the Romans, who failed to conquer them so they walled them off from the rest of Britain. Then the Anglo-Saxons came after them, and the Gaulified English. The Scots pushed back; here are William Wallace, Robert the Bruce, the Battle of Bannockburn, the perpetual conflict along the England-Scotland border and wars for Scottish independence. Elizabeth’s war with Spain and the need to protect England’s western flank. She tried to neutralize Ireland with the help of several lairds, by importing large numbers of Scottish lowlanders into Ulster. “These were desperately poor people,” Mr. Webb tells us. They were rough and distrusted authority, and they were fighters. The importation ensued in wars between the Irish Catholic majority and the Ulster Scots, Presbyterians. Generations of siege, war, prejudice and intrigue made of the Ulster Scots, as Mr. Webb quotes a military colleague, “the hardest, toughest people on earth.”

Then with the English colonies of North America there came an out for these impoverished Scots of Northern Ireland, a chance to be away from both English and Irish. The first great “Celtic wave” was 1715-1776.

The history of these people merits our full attention, but we are more concerned with their effects on America today. Mr. Webb’s book was issued to maintain the propasphere, as I said. On the cover we see images of Scots-Irish icons, although the average fellow won’t associate them with the Scots-Irish. here are Hadrian’s wall, Wallace, Bruce, “The Spirit of ’76”; then Andrew Jackson, pioneer wagons. The the ZOG era starts with Ulysses S. Grant. Missing are Robert E. Lee (Scottish mother), Stonewall Jackson, Nathan Bedford Forrest, JEB Stuart; there are no Confederate leaders. Then more settlers, Oakies, and ZOG’s plug-n-play Ronald Reagan. Poor General George S. Patton is there also. (“Let’s fight the goddamned commies while we’ve got our army over here!”) There is a blurb by Sen. John McCain, crypto-mamzer. So you know the target audience: white guys, security and military types, white-flighters in the ‘burbs. The publisher has prepped the reader, in the metaphor of judging a book by its cover, for another story of identity-without-consequences. One of Aryandom’s most formidable tribes, the one which broke through the wild mountains walling in the coastal English settlements of North America, the one that more than any other group hunted down, took on and defeated the bizarre and ferocious indigenous peoples, is to be salted and tossed into the pot along with the Bengali motelier on I-85 and the programmer from Shanghai at Microsoft. That, gentle readers, is pure psywar. Let not the useful and humble jobs such people take (“the ones nobody else will do”) cloud your strategic thinking. They are pawns in the greater game but they are fatal to us the same.

If the dilutive efforts of massive non-white immigration on America impressed Mr. Webb as we would like, he does not show it here. But then, if he tried, he wouldn’t be published. A close reading yields a bit of light here and there:

. . . diversity among white cultures has been ignored, with the result that less-advantaged whites have often paid far beyond their percentage of the population when quotas have been put into place for the benefits of minorities.

So, according to Mr. Webb, the Scots-Irish should climb into the ring and lobby for power and bennies against competing groups like Mexicans, jews, asians and the rest. Mr. Webb understands of course that his people are losing but he uses not only the argot but also the political structure of the system that is submerging his own people. This is below the dignity of worthy white men like Mr. Webb and I hope I never see the time when white men say “please” to colored men in their own country. Our jew controllers would love to see it universally, but I’ll put my money down on this: the Scots-Irish will never say please to anybody. They just don’t care.

When I entered Parris Island for basic training in the fall of 1975 I didn’t know what was coming. I knew only that it would be “tough.” Indeed it was. My platoon had four drill instructors. The three assistants did the grindwork. They were the harrassers, the drivers. It was a harsh system of elimination. My platoon started with 72 recruits; we graduated 48. Our senior DI played a sort of good-cop role. Once or twice a day he’d come out of his hut and talk to us. The assistant DIs would leave and the senior would give us a “why we’re here” talk. There was much macho bluff in all these guys — except one, the Scots-Irishman from Kentucky. He was truly a ferocious fellow, one of the few men I’ve met who I can say with certainty was born to kill. He was five and a half feet tall, five feet wide. I could see fighting embedded in his soul, and to this day still can’t imagine what else he might do in this world except soldier. I realize now he is the type Mr. Webb has in mind. One could find an Englishman or German as ferocious as our Kentucky DI, but the Scots-Irish (and Irish) type of ferocity is discernable — I might say outstanding. It is a brawler type of ferocity which, in a man of high intelligence with a talent for organizing and leading is dangerous.

One time our Kentucky DI seized me by the throat. His grip was superhuman; it felt like a gorilla wearing a steel gauntlet. He knew physiology, too. He had positioned his fingers just right; within seconds I was on the verge of passing out. His fingers were nearly touching behind my windpipe. He let go just as my knees started to buckle. Another thing he’d do is poke us in the eyes. He’d flash his “V” fingers into the base of our eyeballs, below the cornea, just deep enough to cause intense pain but do no damage. His precision and agility were astonishing. He was a machine, a killing machine. He despised all that was weak, all that wasn’t military. Looking back on him I suspect there was some combat hangover from his Vietnam tours.

After reading Mr. Webb’s book I understand the Kentucky DI. He was more than ego: he was a culmination of a culture that cultivates toughness. No other term but “toughness” will do here. Physical courage, obdurate resistance to authority. And yet, as Mr. Webb points out repeatedly, this Scotch-Irish culture is so conflicted as to cause endless wonder. It loves to fight, which puts its men so often in the military and security services and thus at the mercy of ZOG and the Zionist-corporate alliance. And yet it pre-ordinates the web of family ties. This renders the Scots-Irish, by political analysis, a political wildcard. And as American society continues to dilute under immigration, interpersonal relationships will dissolve under tribal and racial friction. Your black friend, your Chinese friend, will probably end up going on the other side of the fence. The momentum is unstoppable; we will see no abatement either in anti-white propaganda, anti-white laws or non-white immigration. Further, as Euro-Americans continue to lose turf and political power they will, in their initial phase of resistance, withdraw from the system. There is evidence this has started.

Military recruiting suggests it since 9/11. The sons of the South, that is, America’s region that is predominantly Scots-Irish, have always been the first and the most to volunteer. Mr. Webb spends a good deal of time explaining this and provides the statistics. That most military bases are in the South is not the dictate of longer training periods afforded by milder weather. The U.S. Government knew even in its early empire days that millions of fit, aggressive, undereducated and impoverished young men were laying fallow south of the Mason-Dixon. Ask any drill sergeant active through Vietnam era what his favorite sort of recruit was. He’ll answer: a Southern farmboy. Here was a natural-born infantry man, a woods-runner, familiar with guns and hunting, relatively naive, a bit superstitious perhaps from immersion in Evangelical culture, and DNA-driven to seek action, any goddam action. Yes, a kid from the Celt Belt fit the ZOG’s needs.

But after two catastrophic world wars, bush wars, police actions and the rest, in which white men butchered each other to over 100 millions, and maimed many times that, and destroyed unnameable cultural artifacts and cities, the word has apparently sunk into the Scots-Irish. You can be sure the continued insults and outrages of affirmative action and desegregation are helping them along the path of enlightenment. I have not researched the statistics, but let me reduce my point to this: after 9/11 there was no Pearl Harbor influx of volunteers. Yes, the numbers went up, but no more than 10 percent, I think. Finally then, finally, the majority of young white men isn’t falling for ZOG’s propaganda like wheat under the scythe as of old. No, the boys are thinking now. This “shortfall,” as the kikes term it, is not a sign of degeneracy. Rather the opposite; it indicates higher political consciousness and the effects of alternative media. Any awake Southron knows that Southerners have taken a higher proportion of casualties than any other section of the United States. West Virginia tops the list. I think they’ve had enough.

Of course this worries ZOG, and it remains to be seen what tricks it will play to get more assassins. U.S. bankers are nervous. Their fat asses are sitting on an Everest of debt and paper corporations. They need hard assets. So they continue to do what they’ve always done: dispatch the U.S. Marines and Airborne and the rest to blow out unsavory autocrats and put a lien on their state’s assets. If you doubt this is the game Capitalism must play, I invite you to read General Smedley Butler’s War Is A Racket. And let’s not forget that shitty little country, Israel, nominal HQ of the world tapeworm network that cannot allow any sovereign states within five time zones of Tel Aviv. Uncle Shmuel is the hit team and America’s “elite” are on jewish time clocks. So when the kikes say “Jump!”, the U.S. Congress responds with “How high?” These pathetic ass-lickers will go down.

Mr. Webb will remove some question marks from your observations. He did from mine. Now I understand, for example, why I see so many Confederate battle flags in Pennsylvania west of the Susquehanna, and why the Scots-Rish are mountain people, and why so few settled in New England, and why the kids I knew with Irish or Scottish names were always fighting, and why the South was (and is) poor, and other things. Mr. Webb has done his homework and you will know that this book was long a-building in him and he had to get it out. Well done, Mr. Webb.

What you might come away with, as I did, is a sense of the Scots-Irish as a mammoth agglomeration of dendrites embedded in the demos, suspicious, watching the arrogant elites down on the flatlands, sniffing the wind. Less metaphorically this sprawling tribe/non-tribe will be decisive in the coming trouble. Mr. Webb knows it but says so in a different way and with a different vision. We cannot expect him to come out and declare himself a pro-Scots-Irishman, so far as to advocate clearance of living space for their domain. Mr. Webb is a product of the system and supports it. Yet we cannot dismiss him. He might know perfectly well what’s going on behind the curtain and who is there. Maybe he is waiting. We hope he is. Mr. Webb knows guerrilla warfare. We should interpret his disappointing views on the state of America with a wait-and-see attitude.

One suspects his pro-system lines (they are few and canned — they come across almost sardonically) are a calculated red herring to his skilled analysis of American history, which erodes ZOG/corporate propaganda. the chapter “Preachers and Warriors” is dangerous to the regime. Some would reject this assertion of mine; but it will tilt a man in the right phase of scepticism. We know the regime fears facts, and so we will recognize the danger in this chapter. It is the story of how the Scots-Irish settlers of the southern Appalachian essentially broke the British southern military campaign of 1780 and won our independence with the victories at Kings Mountain and Cowpens. This chapter was the one that convinced me that this people are yet a reservoir of resistance. Here Mr. Webb gives an excellent account of British mistakes in strategy and psywar in their Carolinas march that ultimately brought the mountaineers down on them. It is so well delivered, so potent, it nearly choked me up. What reservoir of rage and atavism in me, in us, has Webb tapped? The question is worth pursuing because its answer will help shatter the mantle of confusion locking us in inaction. The regime doesn’t want you to understand that the white trash it derides above all other whites made the difference.

I found myself pausing again and again after reading certain paragraphs, as Mr. Webb provided names — of a river, a Tennessee family, a town in Ireland — grounding some factoids long dangling. I have never read a history that affected me so. Another edifying chapter is his rehabilitation of Andrew Jackson. ZOG’s court historians have submerged this great man because 1) he was an Ulster Presbyterian, 2) he smashed the second British invasion of America (after Congress didn’t renew the charter of the Bank of America/England), 3) he expediently removed hostile aborigines from the East (he was a racist), and 4) he took on the bankers and the coastal elites, north and south, during his presidency. Mr. Webb provides many more attributes. In the chapter “Old Hickory” we read:

The Scots-Irish culture has to date produced at least a dozen other presidents, some of them pretty fine leaders, but Old Hickory remains in a class by himself. Andrew Jackson was an original, an unusual and fearless leader who dominated the American political process more fully than any president before or since. And he did so not through the tedious, secretly sneering Machiavellian half-truths that pervade so much of today’s carefully scripted American politics. Jackson gained power, and also governed, through the force of his personality, fueled by a directness that came from an entire lifetime of overcoming obstacles that most politicians either manage to evade or have been spared through the circumstances of their birth and upbringing.

By the age of fourteen, Andrew Jackson was an orphan in the Wilderness of the Carolina mountains, having lost his entire family. He was also a scarred combat veteran. . . .

Jackson made his way to the top of Tennessee’s often-raucous political hierarchy not only through shrewdness, but also by a reputation for audacious conduct. Naturally combative, he also knew that his frequent acts of boldness were the coin of the realm in American frontier society, the surest way to gain him entrance into the ruling circle, just as centuries before they would have earmarked him as a future tribal chief. Andrew Jackson knew the game, both viscerally and from having studied it. He was well read on the ways of the ancient Scottish chieftains and also required his subordinates to study those histories.

On the battlefield he was unbeatable, making up for his lack of formal military training through audacity and personal example. He had a leadership style that combined praise and discipline in order to get the most out of every soldier, an ability to out-think his enemies, and a ruthless ferocity once combat began.

You get the idea. Webb goes on describing Jackson’s impact on America, principally the breaking of the coastal elite’s (i.e. Anglican Church) monopoly on political control. Jackson was America’s first populist president. The elite feared and hated him for what he portended. Its reaction was encapsulated in this incident:

. . . when Jackson was elected, his predecessor, New England political scion and former president John Quincy Adams, refused to attend the inauguration, and when Harvard awarded Jackson an honorary Doctor of Laws in 1833, Adams wrote to his alma mater that it was a “disgrace in conferring her highest literary honors upon a barbarian who could not write a sentence of grammar and hardly could spell his own name.”

This chapter alone makes Born Fighting a must read. But there is more:

Luckily — for them and for those who wished to expand the American frontier — the Scots-Irish and their counterparts from Scotland and the border areas of northern England had brought a special skill with them. That skill was in demand, particularly further south. It eventually brought them individual and community freedom, but in and of itself it would never make them rich. This skill was their unique ability to combine family homesteads with military expertise and to adapt to a battlefield on which they and their families actually lived. It was not simply that these people made great soldiers, in the sense of the rampaging armies of Europe that paraded in pennant-crested columns and met each other on famous, set-piece battlefields. Many of them were indeed great soldiers, but unlike in most other scenarios, their family unit itself had become part of a warrior culture as well. The entire family structure had been shaped by a millennium that spanned the formation of the Scottish nation, the centuries of border warfare in the regions that ebbed back and forth between England and Scotland, and in the case of the Scots-Irish, the decades of unrelenting tensions in Northern Ireland. The families from the north of Britain accepted — and actually expected — that their lives would at some point include harsh and even bloody conflict.

The men expected to fight, and every able-bodied man was automatically a member of a local militia. The women expected their men to fight, and sometimes their homes to be invaded. Strongly independent, these women understood also that they would be required to run households and farms when their men were away, and to be at risk from raiding parties in their home communities. The children grew up playing constant games of physical challenge, wrestling, racing, and becoming familiar with weapons. Young boys began hunting with their fathers at an early age, knowing it was only a matter of time before they would be expected not only to hunt but also to fight, or at least to defend their family against attack. And finally, the generations along the war-torn Scottish borders and in the frequently ravaged hamlets of Ulster had taught them to accept simple, expendable living structures, becaues one never knew when their home might be attacked and burned to the ground.

Consider all this and you will understand better the behavior of the mountain people here. It is in fact the roots of the hunting, survivalist, militia, frontier and vigilante complex in American culture.

In the 1730s and beyond, nowhere were these skills more needed than along the spine of the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia and into North and South Carolina. And nowhere were the economic inequalities between the Scots-Irish and those who controlled affairs greater than in these colonies. In many ways, the reasons that brought the Scots-Irish to Virginia and the Carolinas, and the economic disparities that existed there, provided a microcosm of what was to happen in the entire Southern region after America won her independence. And the pervasive disparities, among white cultures, so pronounced along ethnic and religious lines but largely unnoticed outside the region, would foreshadow not only the way the South has been misunderstood in the years following the Civil War and Reconstruction, but also some of the major divisions that linger in American society today.

This is a culture that waits. Mr. Webb points out that the Scots-Irish of the South were as poor as blacks and today have a lower level of education and income on average than all other white groups. The Celts are a Dionysian people. They wait for the big buzz, for high emotional states — such as war or religious amplitudes. Webb calls them “sensuous”; indeed, but I have applied this term of a higher degree which I think catches them in their pagan essence. Mr. Webb quotes from a report by H. L. Mencken on the Scopes Trial in Tennessee in 1925. The locals practically collared Mencken, offering him coca-cola and moonshine while trying to convince him of the ubiquity and cunning of Satan. And these fellows, Mencken went on to say, would pause and straighten themselves for every pretty girl who passed by, revealing the wrestling match between piety and lust. Mr. Webb raises this contradictory persona of the Scots-Irish repeatedly, and I myself have observed it. Nowhere is this instinct towards ecstasy more evident than in the “tent revival.” God is personal to these people; they don’t like priestly bureaucracies any more than secular ones.

Thus it is easier to understand the alacrity with which white Southerners fought the forces of National Socialist Germany, with its apparently ant-like organization and revival of interest in pre-Christian spirituality. Unfortunately Americans in 1940 did not know what brought on the Third Reich and why Adolf Hitler and Josef Goebbels had to revolutionize German society to combat the Bolshevik terror. National Socialist Germany appeared to the Scots-Irish as both a crushing of individuality and a heathen state. On its face it was an intolerable threat; throw in cunning jewish propaganda, and you have what we got. I recall reading about J. W. Milam, the man who shot the young nigger Emmett Till in Mississippi for hitting on a white woman. The article revealed that Milam had beaten German POWs while serving in the U.S. Army. We can ask, Why didn’t these people see that Adolf Hitler would have eliminated the jewish problem in Europe, and with that, the jewish position in the United States would almost certainly have eroded. And we now wouldn’t have a nigger problem and much less of a jewish problem. And we can answer ourselves: Americans in 1940 simply didn’t know.

Celts as a whole, if I may consider them wholly, tend to oscillate between wild and cold. There are the indifferents, the part of the Scots-Irish population which just doesn’t give a damn. This is the famously contemptible one, the “trailer trash,” the “hillbillies.” America roars past on the golden highway, but these people like things the way they are.

Mr. Webb’s analysis of the Civil War burns bright, as do his analyses of the Revolutionary and 1812 wars. He traces the evolution of old frictions between planter aristocracy and the non-slaveholding farmers and craftsmen of the uplands. Elite wealth was anchored in slave labor and land speculation. Piedmont and mountain wre less fertile and often barely farmable. Few of these upland Scots-Irish owned slaves. Most were too poor, and anyway their land could not host the sort of agriculture that needed slave labor. Mr. Webb gives an enlightening explanation of the economic relationship between the elite and the backcountry Scots-Irish. The elite didn’t want to deal with them, preferring to trade with Northern and Midwestern merchants: “This remoteness accentuated the historic independence of the Scots-Irish culture, and not wholly in ways that would benefit its people in future generations.”

“The Mess the Yankees Made” is another good chapter. You will learn that Mr. Webb is no fan of Harvard or New York City. Plain it is that he is a humane and sensible man with no ill will towards other races, but plain it also is that he dislikes the East Coast Establishment (even though it would admit him). He is aware of the academic and media war against Southerners. He received it himself in law school. He knows why children of the elite hid out during Vietnam. Yet he says “cultural forces” are involved. Yes, but they are only a part of the enemy whole. He tells you that “WASP” culture built America, but apparently he is not willing to go to the mat for whites on the strength of this alone. WASP in his law school meant white. He says:

To many of them the Vietnam War was largely an extension of a racist, colonialist system that had its origins in the evils of slavery and the genocide of Native Americans during the nation’s westward expansion. And by implication, in their eyes the ones who had agreed to serve in Vietnam were either criminal or stupid.

And we know what followed:

The very legitimacy of so-called WASP America was under relentless attack, both for the supposedly authoritarian society that WASPs had created and for the unfair advatages that its members allegedly held.

This is Bolshevism in action, a j’accuse strategy that overlooks the power of talent, organization, creativity and military prowess in a people, for the purpose of throwing them off balance and stealing their property and women. You see the jew-on-blonde syndrome; you see the jew is the richest group on earth and growing more powerful by the week. Bolshevism, to apply one term to the classic jew powerplay, is psywar for the purpose of gaining material control under cover of altruism. It hurls the rotting body of Christian tenets at men who make the difference. Now America is nearing the crescendo of this anti-white Bolshevist propaganda assault, and the state is clearly cracking.

The story of Andrew Jackson and the Confederate Army, and the frontiersmen Jim Bridger, David Crockett, Simon Kenton, Daniel Boone and others, considered as examples of Celtic warrior energy, should cause you to remember that men of action love a leader of action. You can be sure that our security forces have little respect for the US’s political leadership and elite. The soldier holds the god Authority above all others. How long can the mere dignity of office hold the military and security apparat in check, when the elite are clearly degenerate and contemptible and by some evidence traitorous? They can keep their security forces in check so long as they stay ahead of their propaganda, which is failing. What will show when finally it fails, and how will the security forces react? This is the terror stalking our gilded parasites. When there is no longer a mandate from white people for the status quo, the window will be open for the arrival of a leader of action. Perhaps he is a first lieutenant in Iraq now. There should be no doubt that the American state is terminally diseased. Mr. Webb’s experiences since law school in Washington provide additional evidence. No wonder, you will say, Mr. Webb wrote this book.

His opinions and analyses of the Civil Rights era, and today’s racial lobbies, are direct and sincere, though a bit guarded. Clearly he’s not keen on the Civil Rights lobby. This is because his own people are losing what is theirs, to the changing demographics. Mr. Webb is a tribesman but not a tribalist. He knows racial extortion will lead to race war and he wants his people prepared. But I don’t think he has thought this momentum through. I doubt he is a separatist. He thinks Scots-Irish culture is “embracive,” and it is, but apparently this suffices to solve the race problem. He assumes that the Scots-Irish can embrace ad infinitum without disappearing. Yielding more turf, wealth, political power and women will carry us all to the lime pits.

Mr. Webb’s collision with the elite in law school can provide the reader with a new way to view this elite. He tells it in his way, without the common filter you, the reader, will most likely have (that this elite is feeding the white race and the West to the wolf of Capitalism and Zionism). It is not clear how far Mr. Webb is willing to support this alliance whose only course, whose natural course, is to conquer all sovereign states with the goal of total control of all material assets. The commissar lives as well as the capitalist billionaire. This elite is inventing the reality that rules us through the television and print media for this end. So of course its members look down on a man who has been “suckered.”

It should be understood now that the Cold War was a hoax. How should we know? Because the USSR dissolved itself peacefully. Folks, no regime goes down without raging against the dying of the light. In a real revolution there are factional combats and often ethnic warfare, assassinations, refugees, political trials, executions, seizures and expulsions. There was none of that in Russia. No, the people who really ruled the USSR are still in charge in Russia. The “fall” of the Berlin Wall was a laissez event; authorities simply let average citizens do what they had wanted for decades: tear the wall down. It only reinforced the idea the real rulers, East and West, wanted the people to believe, that a “revolution” had occurred in the USSR. The commissars merely handed over state assets to Western corporations for a cut. You have noted that all but one of Russia’s “oligarchs” are jews.

So this elite Mr. Webb collided with in Georgetown Law School were not only smug, but indiscreet. They didn’t like him around, which was a sort of effrontery. They apparently couldn’t hide it from him, and in effect laughed in his face. Why? Because he volunteered for combat duty in Vietnam. Mr. Webb knew that these were people from “the other side,” as he calls them. Unfortunately he does not detail this “other side” enough. But maybe someday he will. And one wonders if he thinks the America he fought for can be restored. On the face of it, he does. But no matter now; he is exactly the sort of man we want sniffing the wind and waiting: a betrayed one, an insulted one, one who knows how to take things out. And hell, these people thought Mr. Webb was a “WASP,” which meant to him that the Scots-Irish are “invisible” (his term) to the elite. At Georgetown Law, he tells us, the real WASPs told anti-WASP jokes. By the end of all this one expects Mr. Webb should have developed a “fuck it” philosophy towards the system. If he did it doesn’t show, but then again, Mr. Webb knows guerrilla warfare.

What else might have been on the minds of this elite who knew Mr. Webb? Fear, again. Here was a white man who killed, who had bought their story and gone out and killed brown peasants, stock actors in the great drama the elite had written. Mr. Webb had gone out according to plan. Now he was back, tougher, much wiser, and learning. Gawd, he was amidst them! He had crashed the gates! Here was a man of action, a violent white man. Could they maintain control of him? Would he turn on the imperial purple? What conditions could make him turn? They must find out. But in the meantime they also must keep their distance. And that’s why Harvard is 50 percent jewish and 25 percent asian, and that’s why the elite established “think tanks” (populations research) — to keep the Webbs going around in circles.

Our elite is made of papier-mâché. It is a materialist’s club without room for a warrior ethos. It lives by deception and intrigue. It relies on mercenaries and the beguiled. Thus it fears the strong.

Well, we are waiting for our “Great Chieftains.” By the time you reach the end of Born Fighting you will know Mr. Webb knows exactly where he’s coming from. Of the Scots-Irish in America he says:

This culture has more power than it understands. It has shaped the emotional fabric of the nation . . . and through the power of its insistence on personal honor and adamant individualism has become the definition of ‘American’ that others gravitate toward when they wish to drop their hyphens and join the cultural mainstream.

Like I said, this book will change you. With your own gaps filled by it, as mine were, you will know more surely than before that America belongs to you.



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One Comment

  1. JJPrzybylski
    Posted September 9, 2016 at 3:31 pm | Permalink

    My dad used to say, at the height of the Cold War, that the Russians would never be able to conquer Appalachia. He said that there would be guerilla war in the hills forever and ever. As if my dad sensed that Appalachia was our own little barefoot ‘n rifle toting Afghanistan. Not a perfect analogy, of course.

    Not my old man, but a poster named “The Old Man” on Stormfront said that Appalachia used to contain the most cussedly independent people in the USA. Until they were anesthetized by government largesse. Welfare and foodstamps. He’s from Kentucky, I think, and says that the Nanny State has succeeded with its poison tit.

    I sat in a gym jacuzzi in Detroit with a big black brute who has a horrendous scar on a thigh. Too bad he didn’t know enough to shower before entering the co-ed bath. In any case, the scar was from a bullet in Vietnam. In boot-camp, he said, he had a short red-neck drill sergeant who slapped his ass with a tennis shoe. So, the black recruit punched him. After which they marched across “campus” to an abandoned quonset hut and squared-off. Mano-a-mano. The black guy made a point of repeating how short, fierce and Southern White his opponent was. I think that the Appalachian drill sergeant mystified him as much as banjo music and yodeling. There was something coming out of the sarge, from the gut-bucket of his racial/cultural ferment, that the Black Man just didn’t have access to. Adding to the mystery and awe, the drill sergeant never pulled rank. Everything was done with a toe-to-toe duel.

    This is just my 3 cents. Finally, from an artists point of view, I’m 110% certain that the Hillbilly mystique is something that can never be co-0pted. Whites, fighting a guerilla war for their identity, do well to love what is remote and hated by globalists and their domestic shills. Like NASCAR. Which, any scholar will tell you has it’s roots in outracing Federal Agents in the hills. Many fans are secretly cheering local heroes delivering, of all deeply symbolic things, White Lightning in the dark.

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