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Dachau Now
by J.B. Hood
Part 1 of 2
I watched them come for my son today. The special Hate Crimes Unit of the LAPD. Three Ton-Ton Macoute-style spooks in brown uniforms with sunglasses. All three were biscuit-lipped coons, of course, and could barely speak intelligible English, but that didn't matter: explanations and warrants aren't necessary anymore. Haven't been since USA-PATRIOT. They just stormed in and took my boy away.
But not before knocking him around the living room, spitting on him, and calling him a "racist." I lunged at the biggest monkey but the other two pulled their HCU specials - .45 Uzis -- courtesy of the State of Israel -- and stuck them in my face. Thank you, Israel. Thank you, Jews.
"Don't worry, Dad, they can't keep me forever," my son said, as they hauled him away, bleeding. I went after the big one again, and this time his bros cold-cocked me in the back of the skull with what used to be called nightsticks. I understand they're now openly referred to as "whitesticks."
My poor son. My only child. He gave me a thumbs-up as they slammed him into their HCU cruiser and roared away. He doesn't know; he's only 17. He thinks he'll be out in a few months. But I know better.
I know I'll never see him again.
His crime? Wearing an "It's OK to be White" T-shirt to school last week. The principal was content to merely expel him, but one of the teachers -- a 23-year-old negress with dreadlocks and a "Kill Whitey" T-shirt -- filed a hate crime charge against him. Hence the HCU. Any expression of whiteness is a hate crime today. It's December 13, 2008, and President Lieberman is in his second term in the People's House (formerly known as the "White" House, a phrase since discarded as racist). The gloves have come off at last.
My son will have a show trial, of course, then be shipped off with other whites to a "re-indoctrination center," like the one in Dachau, California. I recall my late father telling me about a place by that name in Germany, during the People's War (formerly known as WWII). But that was 64 years ago, and no one remembers it now. The only record of it is the one published by the ADL.
Thank you, Israel. Thank you, Jews.
I wiped the blood off my face and signed onto the People's Net to send a coded message to my local Information Officer (IO). We in the white resistance have been forced underground since the Great Purges of 2005-6. We are organized in cells of no more than 4-5 men each, each cell unknown to the others, each operating independently. We aren't even told the names of our commanders.
Similarly, we are not told of our missions until we get orders. (My son knows nothing of this; he thinks I'm an online investment guru). We stay in touch via the People's Net, which, although heavily monitored, still lets the occasional coded message slip through -- if the sender is savvy enough. I've been a hacker for 20 years.
I didn't expect my message to do much good, though. It was merely an angry, grief-stricken father's cry for help. There just aren't enough of us left to stand up to the People's Government. So, mostly, what we do is sit and wait, biding our time.
And disappearing, one by one, to the reindoctrination camps.
* * *
My son's name was Arnold. I named him after the late Arnold Schwarzenegger (who was betrayed to the Tolerance Police by his own wife, in 2005). My wife called our boy Arnie. He was 17 years, two months and three days old when he was executed last week. The final charge against him was "Racial Intimidation." That's punishable by death today. Used to be life in prison.
Things are changing rapidly now, unlike earlier in the decade. From September 11, 2001, to 2004, the changes were barely noticeable -- mostly in the form of additional checkpoints at the airport, manned by stupid, lazy, careless nigs. Even the "Department of Homeland Defense" seemed benign at first. But once Lieberman was elected, in 2004, the changes started coming hard and fast.
First, it was the Internet -- the last gasp of free speech on earth. Of course, most of the "conservative" sites were already patrolled by agents of ZOG, deleting posts that questioned Jewish influence, the Israeli terror machine, black-on-white crime, etc. In 2004, however, the feds clamped down on the Net with both fists. FBI listening devices were installed at all major traffic hubs on the backbone, individual computers were bugged, all emails inspected, censored or deleted.
Next came the "accidents" to Libertarian and Conservative politicians, which began happening with great frequency. Lieberman's Presidential opponent, Trent Lott, was killed in a multi-car pileup on the Beltway (although rumor had it that his skull sported a new and perfectly round, 9mm hole in the top). By the winter of 2004-5, all political rivals were either locked up, discredited or dead. Vince Foster's 1992 "suicide" looked like a harmless kitchen accident by comparison.
Then came the Great Purges.
Untold millions of white journalists, politicians, educators, Webmasters, and others from all walks of life were rounded up for "hate speech" violations and hauled away to the reindoctrination centers. Because they were considered nonviolent criminals, and not "hate criminals," they were merely incarcerated -- at first. But then, with Stalin-like ruthlessness, Lieberman began the wholesale liquidation of whites.
Mass executions and cremations soon followed. It's estimated that over 24 million white, Anglo-Saxon heterosexual gentiles were exterminated this way, between 2005 and 2008.
Most of the lemmings -- the Sally Soccer moms and Joe Sixpacks too befuddled by TV to be a threat -- were spared. The racially conscious among us, however, were speedily identified by our email addresses, employers, friends and neighbors. Turning in a "white racist" is a civic duty today, although there has been talk in The People's Congress of imposing quotas as a means of "encouraging" the populace.
It's too late to resist now; all we can hope to do is hold out underground. Our last chance was during the Presidential Election of 2004. If we could have assassinated Lieberman, or taken control of at least one major media outlet, we might have thrown a small wrench into ZOG's works. But . . . no. We hesitated. We failed to act. Too many of us were too comfortable, too fat and happy, or just too damn scared to take matters into our own hands. Thus, Lieberman's election, and thus The Ultimate Solution to the problem of whites in the society.
Millions more will die, of course.
But, right now, the only one that mattered to me was my son.
I grabbed my .45 and hit the street.
* * *
Since my son's arrest and execution, I'm sure my house is being watched. There's no way the Hate Crimes Unit or their buddies in the Tolerance Police would ignore me, father of a white racist. Therefore, I had to stay away from home as much as possible -- People's Net or no. I'd sent my message. That's all I could do, for now.
On the street, I am disguised as a Latino, the better to blend into the crowd and avoid identification. This is not too difficult, as my late wife, Anne, was a theatrical director and left a trunk full of make up, wigs and costumes behind. It wasn't the HCU that got her. Just another pack of spooks and spics out for a night of wilding.
They caught her in the parking lot of the nearby Kroger store and raped her -- right there on the lot -- then stabbed her to death. The People's Police did nothing to stop them, of course, as it is Unconstitutional to "harass" minority "youth" even in the act of murder. It falls under the heading of "racial profiling."
That was two years ago. At 15, Arnie was crushed by her murder. Hell, so was I. No charges were filed, of course; the spooks and spics got off scott free. When I complained, I was threatened with "Ethnic Insensitivity," which is 10 years in reindoctrination.
Thank you, Israel. Thank you, Jews.
I have many disguises to choose from, but given the racial make up of Los Angeles today, I always go spic. The means a black wig, a greasy black mustache, and a ton of dark base make up all over my exposed skin (face, neck and arms). I'm no expert -- I still think my spic disguise makes me look like Quazimodo -- but apparently it works. I never get a second look on the street. Half-Congoloid/Mestizo mutants are commonplace anymore. As are mulattos.
I carry three weapons on me at all times: the .45 Colt Defender -- a pocket rocket with plenty of punch; a .38 Taurus M85 on my ankle; and a 6-inch Marine Commando knife, complete with a sawtooth blade, plus a compass, matches, sutures and a garrote in the handle. It's a very cool, and very deadly, tool.
I couldn't wait to stick into one of those fucking HCU coons. I would make them pay. All three of them. I had nothing left to live for, so . . . what the fuck. Might as well go down fighting.
If only I'd felt this way five years ago.
If only more of us had felt this way ten years ago.
And that has been ZOG's fatal error. That will be its undoing, in the end.
They have made too many men like me: hopeless, bitter, vengeful outcasts beyond the pale. No job, no hope, no loved ones left alive. Nothing left to lose. And there is nothing more dangerous than a white man with nothing left to lose.
Which is what I intended to prove this day. My last day.
I will not go quietly to Dachau now. I will not let them crush my race out of existence. I will kill as many of the kikes, coons and cockroaches as I can, before they gun me down. Better to die fighting, with honor, than to shrivel up and die, in disgrace, in one of their concentration camps.
They have no idea what they've done.
But they're about to find out...
Cont'd in Part 2...
J.B. HOOD
© 2002
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