The quiet riverside London suburb of Woolwich yesterday witnessed the decapitation murder of a white British soldier at the hands of two Islam-crazed blacks.
“We swear by Almighty Allah we will never stop fighting you,” one of the murderers taunted, bloody-handed, as cameras rolled, as the headless victim died in the street.
Thus the Thames runs red today, in fulfillment of a prophecy: it has been forty-five years since Enoch Powell’s “Rivers of Blood” speech, which warned of the ultimate perils of mass immigration.
It was one of Powell’s constituents who, according to the speech, famously predicted that “in fifteen or twenty years’ time the black man will have the whip hand over the white man.” What could not have been predicted, however, was that the black man’s “whip hand” would have been holding, in forty-five years’ time, a meat cleaver.
But a greater tragedy was also unforeseen in the speech: that racial feelings among white British would become so decimated, so demonized in the ensuing forty-five years that even a widely televised bloody event such as the Woolwich decapitation would yet fail to excite Brits to anything even remotely resembling ethnic self-assertion. By this I mean that, as audacious as this homicide is, it will not stem the tide of the London genocide: at no point will the white British ever take seriously the idea of implementing Powell’s proposed solution, the assisted mass re-emigration of non-white hordes back to their country of origin.
At the outset of his speech, Powell adopts an apologetic tone for his Cassandra-like delivery of bad news, having the foresight to acknowledge that having foresight itself is not enough. People will not listen to you, because
(A) they are too focused on current troubles that have come to pass to worry about future ones, which may or may not come to pass,
(B) they will suspect that by forewarning about future tragedies, you are in a sense maliciously willing them to happen—if only to prove yourself right in your prophecy.
If only the people could be confronted with, not a mere prediction, but the reality of evil in the here and now—if only we could summon one of Dickens’ Yuletide ghosts to show them their future—then surely they would be moved to take swift action. Well, we saw the future on the news last night, red-handed negroes with meat cleavers and machetes hacking away at the soldiery of Queen and Country. Would the awareness of the “reality of evil in the here and now” now prompt people to act, as Powell assumed it would?
One Daily Mail commenter  expressed hope that it would—that it would shock a dormant nation to its senses:
This country is weak; our people are sheep, the enemy lives laughing in our cities protected by our own laws. England for gods sake wake up, your children deserve better than this.
– onlyme, london, 22/5/2013 15:43
Yet the nation will not act, because they have been cowed into submission by more than half a century of anti-white propaganda and liberal ideology. How could Powell have predicted that, even when faced with “rivers of blood” in the here and now, so many of his countrymen would express a mere shrug, like:
At the wrong place at the wrong time.
– Rob, Glasgow, 22/5/2013 11:02
Please don’t vote ukip now because of this
– Kay, London, England, 22/5/2013 12:54
No. Powell could not have foreseen a time when his countrymen would be so cowed by their own elites and their media culture so as to think that any raised voice against Muslim and black immigration showed “intolerance,” or was some new species of the demonic. He could not have known that the English would be turned into such suckers and spiritual slouches by liberalism that a great many commenters on the tragedy would be more concerned with the sensitivity of the (wrongly) imagined police response than with the decapitated victim:
Have the police ever heard of shooting in the leg or arm.
– sully73, london, United Kingdom, 22/5/2013 11:26
The truth is that contrary to the opinion, or at least the practice, of many white nationalists, spreading awareness about the virulence or violence of immigrants, even pointing out the most horrific examples, will itself do little or nothing to help mitigate the horrific situation; it will do little to “wake up” the sleeping.
For such is the consensus trance that we in the west find ourselves that even decapitations such as this will only provide a momentary, mild shock that will be forgotten tomorrow, that will only contribute to—and thus blend into—the general deterioration of things. Thus the awareness of malevolent enemies outside one’s door does not itself necessarily “wake people up.” Indeed, sometimes it has the opposite effect. Sometimes it only makes people to hide yet deeper under their bed-sheets.
The Futility of Raising “Awareness”
Besides, we are already inundated with “awareness” campaigns about so many other things. This is done deliberately by cultural mavens who know that “awareness” is a limited quantity, and the more we are aware of the plight of the spotted owl, the less we will have mental space to stay sufficiently aware of racial dispossession.
Thus we get diversity trained at work so as to “raise awareness” about ways to better accommodate “the other.” We see, on the telly, endless documentaries and cover stories, like those on CNN’s Heroes, which “raise awareness” about child prostitution in Rwanda or the lack of sufficient footbridges in Ethiopia. If you want your awareness raised, you’ve come to the right Zeitgeist!
Everywhere you cast your eye, activists of every stripe are pointing out plights. They alert you to the precarious circumstances of dolphins or primates, landmines victims or AIDS patients. And don’t forget wheelchair accessibility, sweatshop labor, and the ubiquitous “racism!”
Pink ribbons raise your awareness about breast cancer survivors and their needs. Football coaches wearing patches raise your awareness about Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Cloud-patterned ribbons raise awareness about the sufferers of Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernias. Wikipedia now even provides us a key for raising our awareness about all these awareness-raising campaigns .
But as if all this awareness-raising wasn’t already enough, allow me to raise your awareness about yet another factoid that you, in the busy routine of your day, may have overlooked: namely, the futility of raising awareness.
Part of this futility stems from the aforementioned universality of the practice. For, again, awareness as a limited commodity can only be raised about one thing at the expense of another. Thus if every ill-fated animal, vegetable or mineral has a million-dollar awareness-raising campaign devoted to it, then no attention will have been raised about anything in particular relative to everything else. A rising tide raises all boats, as they say.
The omnipresence of awareness raising in our culture has thus already rendered the practice cliché and somewhat of a joke. In fact, those of us who aren’t provincial dullards have long recognized it for what it is: a way for individuals, non-profits, charities, corporations, and governments to enjoy the public relations boon of taking on the mantle of an ennobling cause célèbre without having to prove that, in fact, any discernible, measurable, positive benefit has been attained thereby. The vague and never-complete goal of “awareness raising” saves all from the inconvenience and potential embarrassment of actually having to be held accountable for the success of any given campaign.
Thus the Urban Dictionary now defines raising awareness as “What you do when you want to look like you’re helping without actually having to help.”
Probably the most high profile awareness-raising campaign of recent memory was last year’s Kony2012 Youtube phenom. The video, put out by San Diego activists to “raise awareness” about child abductions in Uganda by Lord’s Resistance Army leader Joseph Kony, at first seemed a near-miraculous success, with tens of millions of views mere weeks after its March 2012 publication. Through the video, the activists met their initial objective in making Joseph Kony famous overnight. They certainly raised awareness! Yet the group’s ultimate goal of pressuring world leaders to bring Kony to justice was supposed to have been achieved by volunteers’ blanketing every major city with Kony’s likeness in an all-night flyering campaign on April 20th, 2012. The online hype, however, failed to translate into street-level activism. By the time it came to Cover the Night, as the flyering action was dubbed, the Kony issue was already “so last month.” And to this day Kony himself remains at large.
The spectacular rise and fall of the Kony2012 campaign should give all nationalists pause. For it has been a common tactic in our movement to loudly advertise online, not the plight of abducted Ugandan children, but the current plight of simply being white. We disseminate demographic data that point to the “browning of America” or the “browning of Britain,” we spread the word about minority-on-white crime; we show how “closing the achievement gap” in education has been an absurd waste of white taxpayer money. All this is to wake up bread-and-circus-dazed whites to the reality of their dispossession—to the reality of their gradual (and occasionally fast-tracked, depending on where you live) genocide. If only enough awareness could be raised, we tell ourselves, we could steer away from the maelstrom ahead.
Such has been our alchemical tendency, by which we try to spin bad news into some kind of winning proposition, that even the electoral shift that propelled Barack Obama into office twice was hailed by a large swathe of white nationalists—indeed, by some of our best thinkers —as a good thing, if only in the sense that it would help raise awareness.
To a certain extent, I can understand this logic. As Greg Johnson put it, given that our system is anti-white, we would rather not have a white face in charge (i.e. McCain, Romney) to confuse the issue. Obama’s black face sends a far clearer signal.
And one might say that this signal has been heeded and awareness has been raised. Doesn’t the recent spike in traffic on white nationalist websites testify to the great boon that the Obama administration has been, inadvertently, to our cause?
Not necessarily. Kony2012 showed how quickly online energy can evaporate in outside air, how there is no guarantee that any raised awareness will ever translate into boots on the ground.
Indeed, alchemy is a dangerous art, for sometimes a defeat is just a defeat, or worse.
History is full of examples of this. For one, the Byzantine Empire suffered a major defeat at the hands of the Turks in 1071 at the Battle of Manzikert—where, adding to the general sense of humiliation, the Byzantine Emperor himself, Romanos IV Diogenes, was captured and used as a footstool.
If this raised awareness in Constantinople of the threat the Turks posed, it did not translate into increased political unity, or singleness of nationalistic purpose, or any useful action whatsoever. Rather, three decades of civil strife and economic crisis followed. Over the ensuing centuries, the Turks gradually tightened the noose on the Greeks in Anatolia. And over these same centuries of gradual defeat, all kinds of awareness must have been raised about the increasing weakness of the Byzantine front lines. Yet what came of it? Well, this week we mourn the 560 year anniversary of the Fall of Constantinople, the seemingly permanent loss of one of the greatest cities on earth to an outside, Asiatic, sometimes hostile group. That’s what happened.
Dangers in the Dialectic
Thus deploying bad news doesn’t always have the dialectic effect of inspiring us to act or of steeling our resolve. Sometimes it is greeted with apathy or inertia, as Kony2012 and the Battle of Manzikert prove.
It can even be counter-productive. It can make us tired, render us depressed or defeatist; it can sow the seeds of lethargy, despair, or surrender.
Indeed, there is even a danger of this fatal mindtrap: sometimes we are so convinced that bad news will wake the sleeping herd, that we find ourselves wishing for some calamity to befall our people, just as Powell assumed others would suspect him of wishing, simply by predicting the same.
But maybe the high-profile spectacle of a crazed Nation of Islam sect holding a white kindergarten class hostage would do the trick. Or indeed the decapitation of a British soldier by a meat cleaver-wielding black Muslim. It would be tragic, sure. But wouldn’t it be worth the sacrifice if it “wakes people up”?
How subtly we can fall into a masochistic mental illness whereby we desire self-harm in hopes that some consequent mystical “awakening” will save us: I once moved to Paris with the typical naïveté of a suburban American kid. There I found what I was looking for, art and cathedrals in abundance; but the ravages of immigration appalled me. I thought: my ancestral homeland has become a dumping ground for the dregs of humanity. One day, to raise my spirits, I took a little daytrip out to the Parisian suburb of Saint Denis, where all the old Frankish kings had been buried. Surely that place, I thought, would retain a sense of solemnity, a sense of the clear, airy spirit of our ancestors.
Much to my dismay, I found Saint Denis to be a kind of Francophone Liberia, with overturned cars and hip-hop graffiti, ghetto music blaring, and hordes and hordes of alien tribes.
Yet occasionally I would see a white passerby and it would slightly mitigate the infuriating effects of my surroundings. How bad can it be, after all? I would think. Here’s a white person going about his business, seemingly nonplussed. I then found myself hoping for a kind of temporary defeat, wishing that Saint Denis were even worse. Maybe if it was even more of a hell hole, even more of a no-man’s land—maybe if I never saw a single white person in fifteen or twenty miles who wasn’t being raped or mugged or flayed—then just maybe the French would wake up to the fact that they had surrendered the absolute spiritual center of their formerly proud kingdom.
Videos of certain neighborhoods in London  have elicited a similar response in me. They show the occasional white person walking in crowds of browns as if there were nothing wrong in the world. But maybe if it were even worse, I catch myself thinking, maybe if there were no whites in the video at all, maybe if the ethnic cleansing in this particular neighborhood was even more advanced, then people in the rest of Britain would realize that a genocide was truly taking place.
The worse reality would prove me right in my assessment, like Powell’s, of the dangers of immigration and multiculturalism.
I have no idea if I was alone in this mental sickness, or if others have ever thought similar thoughts. But fear not. I have long cured myself of this poisonous mindset and now recognize it for what it is: a variety of Nietzschean slave morality.
In the ideological manner of the Roman-era Jews, awareness raising campaigns usually assume the dialectic of suffering and reward—that if you have been the victim of some misfortune or oppressive regime in the past, if you have been marginalized or maligned, you are mystically entitled to gain in status thereby. We have habituated ourselves mentally to this by osmosis, surrounded as we are by minority groups who have nothing to lose and everything to gain from thinking this way.
Indeed, we have been brainwashed into thinking this way, surrounded as we are by our western culture’s billion-dollar awareness-raising propaganda regimes that exalt Jews and blacks and minorities of all kinds as preeminent sufferers who must be attended to with compensatory land grants in Israel, or affirmative action programs, or general deference.
This cannot be our way. It never has been and it never should be.
We need, not more “awareness” of our plight, but a moral strengthening. We need an increase of courage, a boot-camp of the will. I am not talking about thuggish reprisals against the “Muslim community” (though if we saw them it would actually indicate a more healthy, self-interested white community than we now see). What I mean is that we must put aside this willed dialectic of plight-seeking/awareness raising, so that even if there is no further deterioration in our fortunes, our momentum to strive forward and be great again will never flag or falter.
And how is this done? I do not have a one-size-fits-all solution, for we whites are too individualistic to be corralled into stencil slogans. But let this  be the beginning of a model (as loath as many nationalistic English may be to—mon dieu!—imitate the French!) The point is that instead of hand-wringing and telegraphing our whines to the world, we must harden and improve ourselves for the struggles of the future, now.
We must LOWER awareness about our plight by lifting ourselves out of it.