Papa's Got a Brand New File
by Marc Moran
July 10, 2002
An interesting thing just happened to me.
One of my employees asked if she could speak with me about a private matter.
I asked her to take a seat and to tell me what was on her mind. She said
that over the weekend her father had asked her about her job; how she liked
it and how her boss was treating her. She told him that she loved the job
and that I was a great boss. He asked my name, she gave it to him and that
was that until he called her a couple of nights later.
"I spoke with my FBI friend," he told her. "He told me that your boss has
been a member of the National Alliance since 1999. Does he have propaganda
around the office?"
She told me that she didn't know what he meant when he told her that and she
"He's an activist. They have a file on him. He wrote a letter to the editor
and they have a photograph of him at a rally."
Well there wasn't much more that she told me. She said something about the
letter I wrote being about "Blacks and Jews" and nothing more.
I asked her, "Doesn't it bother you that the FBI has a file on me?" After
all, I am the kind of man that I used to admire when I was growing up.
Beautiful wife, respect in the community, successful business, friendly,
helpful, that kind of thing.
She looked at me sadly.
"You really are a great boss," she said.
I nodded and told her that it was okay. I wasn't mad at her, but I was
deeply hurt. Deeply.
She walked out of her office and I immediately sat down and began to write
First, let me clarify a couple of points.
I have never been to a rally, although I just got an invitation to one this
I am a member of the National Alliance, but I joined only about a year ago.
I'm sorry that it took me that long to come around to some of the problems
facing this country, but at least I have come around. I am not really sure
what goes on at the National Alliance headquarters in West Virginia, as I
have never been there, nor have I ever spoken to anyone who is a member with
the exception of Andrei Kievsky, and then it was mostly about organic
gardening and family. I know that the National Alliance sells a lot of books
that are hard to find from other sources, in fact I have purchased quite a
few. Perhaps the FBI has a copy of my purchases. I understand that they
check into what people check out of libraries, so anyone who would have the
temerity to actually read books not assigned in class might actually be a
threat to the United States of America, I don't know. After all, I'm not an
agent of the Federal Government. They obviously have a different criterion
for what is and isn't a threat to this country and its people, judging by
the bang-up job they've done since Sept 11th.
Or August 8th, if you want to get technical.
If the FBI is interested in my affiliation with the National Alliance, the
American Legion, the Sons of the Revolution, the Sons of Union Veterans of
the Civil War, the National Rifle Association, the Presbyterian Church USA,
the Hopewell Museum, the Republican Party or any of the other organizations
I happen to be a member of, I would expect that they would stop by and have
a glass of iced tea and ask me about them face to face. I would assume that
that is how the FBI works because they are supposed to be professionals at
what they do. I have always believed that they weren't the type of sloppy,
shoddy organization that gives out personal information on U.S. citizens,
particularly law abiding patriots like myself, to every Tom, Dick and Harry
that calls them at the office and asks. I assume that they would be honest,
forthright and dedicated to preserving the laws of this nation, allowing
people to freely associate with others as the Constitution allows.
That is how I thought law enforcement agents worked, but they obviously do
not. Instead they behave like a thoroughly corrupt organization, working not
for the U.S. citizen, but for a hostile occupation force bent on the
intimidation and surveillance of free thinkers who have wandered off the P.C.
plantation. They secretly keep files on citizens, thinking that only they
know about it. They violate the rights of Americans in order to please their
handlers, negating the very Constitution they have taken an oath to uphold.
I know they have because I keep a copy of the Constitution on my desk at
work and I am looking at it right this moment.
Congress shall make no law respecting the establishment of religion, or
prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech,
or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to
petition the government for a redress of grievances.
There it is in black and white. My right to say what I want, to write and
publish what I want, to worship God as I see fit, to freely associate with
people that share my interests and beliefs and to ask the government, when
it has caused me grief, to redress that grief.
Have I missed something?
I have been writing for Vanguard News Network for about four months. I use
my own name because I am not ashamed to put my name on what I write. I am
not afraid of what others think about me, or my opinions. I have come about
them honestly after years of research and deep thought. I would debate
anyone at any time about any topic, provided I have an opportunity to speak,
something the media would never allow. It's not a secret because I have
nothing to hide.
I discovered the website about nine months ago and I immediately fell in
love with the humor expressed on the site and the way that news was arranged
to connect events and people in a meaningful way, something that is
deliberately left out of the major media sources. I found the articles and
letters to be arcane, insightful, combative and profane, but I never once
found them to be evasive, intentionally false or misleading, something the
other so-called "news" sources frequently do. I decided to write some pieces
because I thought my perspective was a valid one. I am a Christian with a
strong faith, a loyal husband and loving father. I have a stable home life,
living in a town that my own family helped to found over three hundred years
ago. I had spent over ten years as a stand-up comic, touring the United
States from one end to the other. I have served in combat with America's
Guard of Honor, the 82nd Airborne Division and have been decorated for my
action under fire. I have been a law-abiding, taxpaying, productive member
of society who has done as much or more than most people I have met in my
life. I have great relationships with my parents, my in-laws, my neighbors,
and my business associates. I got a phone call at work yesterday from the
Japanese guy who sat next to me on a flight last month, thanking me for the
book I gave him and the advice on marriage and fatherhood and our
relationship with God.
That's the kind of life I lead and that's the viewpoint I have to offer. I
was not the typical media version of a "racist" or a "bigot" and I thought
that my low-key, everyman essays would resonate with others like myself who
had been so thoroughly brainwashed by Hollywood/Madison Avenue/Public
Schools that the very idea of even reading VNN would be tantamount to
I thought that I might be able to contribute in some small way to what I see
as a legitimate movement to save this nation from chaos and destruction in a
place where people can speak openly about the Truth.
I felt it was my duty.
I have never been an activist of any kind.
I marched in a parade once that was supposed to be against the opening of a
nuclear plant, but that was only because I seriously wanted some action from
a young lady who actually cared about nuclear plants. It wasn't much of a
protest and that was over twenty years ago and I didn't get the girl either.
I enjoy the art of debate and I love the thought of engaging in discussions
that lead people to deeper levels of understanding. My father has done this
his entire life and I guess that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
When people in my neighborhood find themselves interested in Indian
artifacts, inevitably someone will lead them my way and I will talk to them
whether they are six or sixty. I may not know everything about the earliest
inhabitants of this valley, but I will share everything that I do know with
whomever shows an interest and many of these people have gone on to learn
things I have missed and they always come back to share that information
with me. That, in a word, is community. People sharing ideas, people
expressing concerns, people taking the time to show that they care. That is
how I operate because that was how I was taught people ought to behave. The
closest I have ever come to being an activist was when I began to write
letters to the editor. I began writing them about six or seven years ago
about whatever topic caught my interest. I wrote brief, concise and at
times, humorous letters that made my point. Newspapers like the Times of
Trenton and the Hopewell Valley News began to regularly print them and I
would often hear comments from people at church or in the neighborhood that
I had made a good point, had expressed myself well, had gotten them to think
about something in a different way.
Then something strange happened. I noticed that for every letter I would
write expressing what I would describe today as a "conservative" viewpoint,
three or four letters would be published in response. Not supportive letters
like the comments I heard first hand, but mean vindictive attacks on me
personally. They were sometimes so off base and ridiculous that I would
laugh at them, wondering why these people could not respond in a
level-headed way, with counterpoints that could make their own position
Soon I began to realize that the letters to the editor section of the
newspaper was really not all that different from the main pages. It was
carefully constructed to tear down the "conservative" position and to show
people that the way they had been thinking was no longer tolerable to the
mainstream of American thought. It is designed to muzzle any divergent
beliefs by humiliating writers who did not toe the line, using other writers
to do the dirty work.
I have answered too many hecklers in my day to be responsive to such
I still received phone calls, one from a former history teacher, commending
me for my well-reasoned position and my articulate summation of events, both
nationally and on a local level. I still heard comments from people in
church or at local historic association meetings, people who knew me by name
simply by the letters I had written, but for some reason, the newspaper
stopped printing my letters.
Towards the end of 2000 an employee of mine sent me an email with a link to
a website called www.racetraitor.com. He thought it was funny and knowing
that I was a "conservative" churchgoing kind of guy, he thought it would
ruffle my feathers.
He had no idea.
At that time my understanding of the problems in this country was focused on
issues like the homosexual lobby, feminism and liberals. I knew that the
public education system had been dumbed down, but I didn't realize that it
was intentional. I hated the way that crime reports focused on any crime
Whites committed, but seemed to avoid making the connection when Blacks were
involved. I had not, at that time, read the statistics from the government's
own website and had no idea of just how bad Black on White crime was. I knew
that the only time I had ever been the victim of a violent crime, in 1978 at
the age of 18, it was at the hands of a Black man who blamed me for his
crime. I don't remember the text of our conversation, but I certainly
remember the gist of it. He had just gotten out of prison because of "White
mother-fuckers like you." He then proceeded to pistol whip me before
stealing my plastic wallet with thirty bucks in it. My leg was in a cast at
the time of the mugging, so I was an easy mark.
I knew a girl from school who was raped by a Black guy, but she never
reported it because she was afraid to. So there was only my personal
experience and my intuition to help me understand the problem of race and
Until I received that email I had never visited a "racist" website in my
life. I had only heard about the National Alliance in the same way that most
White Americans hear about it, on the news, in context with the Timothy
McVeigh bombing and always with the exact same language, as if it had been
scripted, "...who used the book The Turner Diaries as a blueprint for his
bombing of the Murrah Federal Building..."
That website led me to another and that one led me to one called Yggdrasil.
That one woke me up, and from there I wound up here.
Until this point, my only real unhappiness with the government was that
taxes seemed to make accomplishing anything remotely like my parents
had an impossible dream.
That was until Waco.
I was performing at a comedy club in Dayton, Ohio, that week and staying at a
local hotel. I had written a joke about the standoff in the early days that
went like this,
"I understand that Federal authorities are wondering when David Koresh will
be coming out of the compound at Waco. If I'm not mistaken he claims he's
Wouldn't that be Easter morning?"
It got a good laugh at the time and a couple of days later I sold the joke
to a Black comedian named George Wallace and he told it on the Tonight Show,
getting a much bigger laugh than I had.
The morning that the guys from the FBI and BATF smashed into the house at
Mt. Carmel, I watched in horror from my hotel room bed.
"They're burning them alive." I remember thinking. "There are children in
No one came out of there on Easter morning.
My uncle, who happens to be an agent with BATF, got into a big argument with
me about what happened there. I took the position that they never should
have crushed the front of the house with a tank, should never have started
the whole thing with their commando-style attack in the first place. He made
every argument I have ever heard since about Waco - the meth lab, child
molestation, sawed-off shotguns, you name it.
I held my ground. There were kids in there. They burned those children to
death. It was handled badly. There weren't any fire trucks.
He sent me a couple of BATF after-action reports, the testimony of the
agents who had played a role in the siege and subsequent immolation of those
They only reinforced my position.
I remember one agent saying that he had candy bars in his ammo pouches,
because, "sometimes the kids get scared."
Yeah, I'll bet.
One agent was repeatedly claiming to be "thrown into a ditch by gunfire" but
somehow miraculously kept "leaping to my feet." I could read the fiction in
the account. One does not leap to his feet from a prone position, I can
tell you from experience.
Another agent, a female, described hiding behind a propane tank to avoid
gunfire. Does that make sense to anyone?
Would you hide behind a propane tank?
My uncle and I have a deep respect for each other, but we haven't talked a
great deal since my grandmother passed away this past winter.
My wife and I cared for my grandmother to the end and she died peacefully in
her bed, surrounded by her loved ones in our home, in the same room where
her mother died in 1965. My uncle missed her passing to work a gun case in
He should have been there, but his duty to his country kept him away.
Knowing what I do now, I wonder if he has seen my FBI file. Maybe he knows
that I write letters to the editor and think about things. Maybe he is
worried about being related to someone like myself, and the impact it may
have on his job.
So I wonder, does the FBI have the right to keep a file on me? Have I really
done something so dangerous and subversive as to write essays about Father's
Day and the Fourth of July, thinking that I could get away with it?
Am I entitled to the redress of grievances guaranteed in the First
Amendment, since I am obviously not entitled to the free speech, freedom of
association, freedom of the press portion?
Does anyone reading this understand just how thoroughly corrupt the system
is when people such as myself have an FBI file labeling them activists who
write letters to the editor, while people like Mohammed Atta receive visa
waivers six months after they bring down the WTC?
I wonder too, about the National Alliance. After all, I have sent them
money, bought books from them and attended a meeting to listen to David
Irving speak -- another incident I was subversive enough to write about -- all
because of the message of the National Alliance.
Did they give my information to the FBI? Is there an informant at the West
Virginia headquarters, or do the authorities merely steam open the mail
before delivering it to Dr. Pierce and copy down the personal information of
How would I ever know?
This morning when I came into work I was a boss, a husband, a father and a
deacon at my church. I was the local arrowhead guru, amateur gardener,
jack-legged carpenter and good friend and neighbor. I was a reader, student
of history, loyal son, beloved uncle and half-assed essayist. When I sat
down at my desk this morning I was racially aware, but I certainly wasn't an
But I am now.