Class

I wrote the following as a status on facebook so my style may differ from the usual, but I felt it worth posting here.


My concept of class is most likely a bizarre one given the time we live in. But it is understandable given the history of class relating to Northern European peoples.
The class system used to serve a very different and healthier society than we have now. In the times before good records were kept, long before the Romans built their diseased and bloated factory farm of a civilisation.
Before the idea of human equality and life ever after had left the middle east, we had a tribal society.
That tribal society was made up of three classes, three classes that survived in theory until the middle ages despite them being naively out of date at the time and one of the classes serving the opposite purpose to their original one.
There was a warrior class, who, like the knights of the middle ages were the nobility, the leaders of men. Before there were even kings and queens, it was the warrior class, considered of the noblest blood who were tasked with the highest responsibilities in relation to their kinsmen.
There were the priest class, if you imagine the Druids of the Celtic nations, you wont be far wrong in imagining their ancient Germanic and Slavic brethren either. Learned and wise, the living libraries of folklore who relayed knowledge as old as time to all of society and functioned to keep society unified by the bonds of blood and the shared past of generations of ancestors. Unsurprisingly the loss of this class has been the most terrible blow Europeans have been dealt for thousands of years, along with the loss of the library of Alexandria, the disappearance of the priests of the old lore has left the distant past shrouded in great mystery and we are left with only scraps of lore from related peoples like the Greeks or the Vedic Hindus.
Lastly was the only class that survives even remotely intact, the workers, the freemen, slaves, labourers and the like.
In the middle ages all three existed, though the growing merchantile class began to break up the third class I mentioned and began the creation of what we would now call a middle class and the priestly class now served to impose a foreign ideology on the masses and eat away at the bonds that once united a people, remarkably though by the fourteenth century the Christianity that was being taught had been Europeanised to such an extent that the main complaints were of church corruption rather than the alien nature of its ideas and theology, and the church hierarchy was every bit as complicated as our class system is today.
My conception of the class system today bears all of this in mind. The middle classes, some of whom may have noble blood, are for the most part descended from the peasants that made up 90% approximately of the medieval population, just like the working class. The nobility who are so small I number today, made up a large minority of the population of prehistoric Europe. All of us are seasoned with the blood of noble and commoner alike. But I postulate that true nobility is not necessarily present in those who possess a title, and can in fact manifest in those who possess some noble blood but who no longer bear a title. That is the true nobility, the intelligence, culture and moral responsibility felt by the greatest among us. I have other theories on this also, such as divine blood claimed by ancient Scandinavian kings and the blood of the Volsungs making itself known in those chosen by Odin. I have rambled but my point stands, that three classes of Aryan (politically incorrect I know, read as indo-European if you get a touch of the vapours from reading that) exist, one is obsolete and will only exist when we reestablish a healthy society, one will remain confused and devoid of hope in the meanwhile and the other, the noble of heart and of blood, will lead one and prepare the way for the other.
Hail Odin.

Presently

I imagine those few who read this blog, though few are wondering why I do not post here often.

You could say that my relationship with technology is similar to my relationship with bubbly 18 year old blondes, I am obsessed with both and neither obliges me very often.
Presently I find my two laptops unwilling to comply with any remote command, my powerful one due to the cost cutting in even the better saleable products and the second due to my autistic clumsiness and my love of carbonated drinks. Presently I must write via a smartphone and it is for times like this I am glad I bought it.

Presently I find myself engrossed in Tolkein's Sigurd and Gudrun, an English reworking of the Lay of the Volsungs and the Lay of Gudrun. In typical Tolkein fashion it is a work of brilliance and quite unexpectedly an essential read for those who feel the call of the blood.

Particularly of interest to me was the wording of a particular stanza of the lay of the volsungs when a prophecy was spake:

(Upphaf-14)
If in day of doom, one deathless stands,
Who death hath tasted, and dies no more,
The Serpent-Slayer, Seed of Odin,
Then all shall not end, nor Earth Perish

The stanza refers to Sigurd of course, but it still made me think. As a man who knows Odin watches over him, who has seen the face of the allfather with my own eyes it makes me ponder my place in history and why I felt drawn to the name.
Why did I take the name, SerpentSlayer?
I knew full well what the serpent represented when I took the name, I knew of the world serpent and what it represented, but I knew not who was fated to slay it, nor the greatness required of such a man.
I find myself in a quandry, unable to openly accept that I could possibly be an incarnation of Sigurd, nor that I can abandon my resolve to do everything in my power to revive the Aryan race and destroy the wicked forces that threaten to destroy us.
For that reason I do not feel that I can abandon the name, SerpentSlayer, I was fated to take it I feel. For what purpose I know not, perhaps I shall be a hero in the coming esoteric struggle, perhaps I will fail, perhaps I will aid the one who truly deserves to bear the name. Who knows.
As it is, even though typing is hard I feel compelled to air my thoughts. I know that I am one of Odin's chosen if not the one his chosen wait for in Valhöll. The steely grey of my eyes betrays this openly and the nobility of my soul perseveres as it always shall, I know the allfather has a plan for me.

We all know the world is at an interesting point in it's history and I hope to explore the particular happenings of the present in closer detail soon.

Hail Odin!

 

Die Schwarze Sonne Scheint!

A few weeks back I submitted this article to Max Musson of the popular Nationalist website, Western Spring. I wrote it specifically at his request. But inkeeping with the character of a man whose sole concern seems to be the amassing of wealth in order to undertake unrealistic objectives requiring resources and comrades of wealth and integrity in numbers we are unlikely to see before the cataclysm, he shied away from posting it without giving any reason. He likely thought my article unimportant, incendiary or simply contrary to his ideas of Nationalists multiplying in number finding wealth from nowhere and pleasantly twiddling their thumbs while the rest of the nation collapses and we are left miraculously untouched. The time may have passed for this articles immediate relevance, or it may not depending on how things go for Pravy Sektor but here you go:

In the beginning the protests in Ukraine baffled us all I imagine. I am sure most of us were familiar with the George Soros' backed Orange revolution of 2004 and knew of Ukraine and its people long being used as the gameboard and pieces of the mutual antipathy felt by Russia and the EU. The sight of the circle of twelve white stars on royal blue flown by crowds of Ukrainians, will have had the same effect on you as it had on me, utter revulsion.
I had consigned the whole thing to the compartment of my mind containing the Norwegian sheeple singing a pro-multiculturalism chorus in response to being called brainwashed idiots and Manchester United signing Fellaini, but the events of the past few days have led me to do more reading on the matter however. The trade deals offered by the Russians and the EU were the start of these protests last year, undoubtedly agents of the Jewish Global domination played a part in inciting public protest against the rejection of the EU's wondersful in the short-term offers and a slap up meal today for ten years of poverty never fails to entice the enthusiasm of a crowd. But remarkably the bulk of these protests took place in Western Ukraine.
Historically Western Ukraine  has, since the Jewish Bolshevik revolution, been a bastion of Ukrainian Nationalism. It was here that men like Stepan Bandera and the men of the 14th SS Division "Galician" were drawn from, who stood against the Communists and suffered heavily at their hands. Strange then that the region would have such strong support for the EU then, you would think.
Across Europe, the people who wake up in the morning, switch on the TV, perhaps have a little bit of breakfast before heading off to work, talking about last night's TV, perhaps the football, working at various levels of effort to fill the coffers of wealthy Capitalists, being rewarded with fiat money to buy new television sets, new Nike trainers and sugar heavy foods and going home for a night of television, tutting at the news and physical and mental laxity, see only the easy rewards as the ones worth having. Comfort for themselves and their families are the only pressing concern and the Panem et Circenses that keep them in chains are their only strong devotions.
As a result all of Europe, including the Ukraine is currently under the spell of Jewish lie merchants and has only an interest in financial comfort, trinketry and flashing screens filled with poison directed at the heart of their race. So it makes sense that most in Ukraine, even Western Ukraine the people are happy to be used as pawns of the political elites of the West, so long as it fills their bowls in the short run. But the point of this article is not to lambast the "sheep" of Europe, the masses of our race and likely the majority of future Europeans in a free and Aryan Europe.
What spurred me to read into the Ukraine, it's history and the reasons for the protests, were the sight of the Celtic Cross on the shields of the protesters who were throwing Molotov cocktails at the police of the Ukrainian ZOG. It seems like those whose motivations are flimsy are easily pushed aside by those who have the love of their race at their hearts and a brick ready to be thrown in their hands.
In the past two weeks, it has been Ukrainian Nationalists who have been organising the increasingly violent protests against the Ukrainian police and it's Jewish-Muscovite supporting government. As you can read in this article http://europeanmediacentre.wordpress.com/2014/01/22/nationalist-revolution-in-ukraine-nationalists-currently-winning-the-battle/ the protests have been repurposed into an open revolt against Jewish control of European nations and an attempt at National Liberation by our Ukrainian comrades. This should be exciting news for all of us.
Amongst the men that stood against Jewish Bolschevism during the last war were, Germans, Danes, Ukrainians, Hungarians, Italians, Swedes, Spaniards, Portuguese, French, Estonian, English, Dutch, Latvians, Russians, Albanians, Irish, Flemish, Wallonians, Norwegians, Croatians and Belarussians, all Europeans, all Aryans and all comrades.
But yet, worryingly, so far there has been little in the way of pan-European co-operation. There have been alliances of political parties, handshakes between officials and the occasional guest speaker but so far the ghost of the heroic Waffen SS, and the idea of a European people united against Jewish tyranny has remained uninvoked and dormant, ever waiting for Europe's future heroes to take up the Hakenkreuz banner once more.
What we are hearing off today in the Ukraine may well be the opportunity for that ghost of Pan-European warrior brotherhood to be revived and I urge the British Nationalist community to organise and prepare to help our comrades in the Ukraine. I urge all fit, healthy European Nationalist men of military age to consider our duty towards our Ukrainian comrades and that should open warfare exist between Ukrainian Nationalists and the Jewish puppet regime governing Ukraine, to consider that to be a declaration of war between all European Nationalists and the Jewish puppet governments across Europe and to reenforce our fighting men wherever they are the most active and strong.
As it stands the men of Ukraine have seized the initiative and have reportedly amassed stocks of weapons http://world.time.com/2014/02/04/ukraine-dmitri-yarosh-kiev/ in preparation for the coming conflict. We do not have an Adolf Hitler to lead us, nor do we have uniforms, tanks and aircraft but we have brave men prepared to fight for the fate of the Aryan race and we owe it to them to stand by their sides. I urge those of us who can to do everything in their power to forge links with our Ukrainian comrades, and prepare the way for the arrival of British Nationalists into a future conflict there. Our older men have the means but not the fitness to fight, our young have little to no means and are plenty healthy and willing to. We all have our part and I hope this article has encouraged everybody to think about theirs.

Heil Hitler!

SerpentSlayer

Happy Birthday Adolf Hitler!

 

On the twentieth of April in the year (of the common reckoning) eighteen-hundred and eighty-nine a baby boy was brought into a world undergoing a cultural high point. The great civilisations of Europe held control over most of the globe, scientific discovery was abounding, industry was booming and many of the great cultural works of our known history were produced.

This young boy grew into a man who saw Europe torn apart by a bloody and pointless civil war, taking an active part in his nation's struggle he earned the two highest awards for bravery his country offered and was wounded several times.

After the war he found his nation beset by political and economic turmoil, he actively fought the threat of Communism and ousted the men who would have used his people as walking piggy banks. This man died defending his nation from Communism, if it were not for his efforts, Western Europe would likely have fell to Communism also.

On this day I urge you all to honour the Führer, Adolf Hitler, and thank him for saving us from a nightmarish existence, few of us today can imagine. Communism survives in a changed form and endeavours to tear away all of our natural rights in the name of security and ideological conformity, look to this man and we will learn how to destroy it.

Happy Birthday Adolf Hitler.

N.B Sigurd's day is only three days away, use the day as an opportunity to celebrate the shared legacy of all Germanic peoples, be they English, Danes, Norse, Swedes, Germans, Dutch or Scots!

My Unconquerable Soul

"Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be, 

For my unconquerable soul."

-Invictus, W.E Henley

Invictus is a favourite poem of mine, it is certainly one of few poems I know that has really inspired my own work. Today, after the realisation that in order to keep this blog going, I am going to have to pay more than lip service to it, I have decided to start posting regardless. What brought me to this conclusion is the subject of today's article.

I was born prematurely, in the cold month of Aquarius, allied to the element of air through classical astrology and tied to the suit of Swords (conflict, physical, mental and spiritual) in the standard Tarot deck. I was born to a poor family in a rough area, weaker than your average, skinny, pale and sickly, but with gifts that took years for me to discover.

The gifts I was given allowed me to learn all I could about the world I was born into, what had brought it to this point and why obsessed my young mind and continue to do so. I was gifted at playing with words, making jokes and became popular with my school mates regardless of my advanced intelligence and weakly build. I strived constantly to become better, to learn more for myself and to overcome what the gods had allotted me.
 

By the time I had grown into an adult I had become a loner, a deep-thinker, an ideological rebel who retained few of his friends from childhood. I discovered the truth behind Adolf Hitler's warnings of a dreadful force threatening to envelop the world, a twist in the tale of time that had so engulfed my mind. I drifted, in an attempt to find purpose and belonging, comrades with whom I could resist what the world had become. I had hoped to find people with the same insatiable fire for overcoming the odds that I always had, I hoped to find the same spirit encapsulated within the poem, to find men and women driven by the pull of adversity.

But find them I did not, and I grew disillusioned with the self-proclaimed standard-bearers of National Socialism. They lacked any true sense of vision or any strong plan or means to put their will into effect, they were not prepared the mammoth task they felt was their job to do.

Feeling that all was lost in politics I instead embarked upon an attempt to join the Army, to turn myself into the warrior I felt I needed to become. It was a sincere effort spurred by a lack of anything to fill the void in my life. It was not to be, my self improvement had never taken the form of physical exercise and though my training made me fitter and stronger, I was attempting to join at a time of peak interest in the forces, and places were limited, standards were raised to a point that this once wimpy nerd felt that he faced a mountain. I resigned my efforts.

Then a twist of fate happened, at some point I must have sent a text message detailing my interest in a patriotic political party, because sometime after the European elections I found my door knocked upon by two of it's activists. I became heavily involved, convinced that this party would chase the moneylenders from the temple. The people contained within it were less distanced from society than the other groups I had aligned myself to but they seemed to know what they were doing. It was an honour to stand in that metaphorical shieldwall with them.

By this point I had resigned myself to the idea that I was on my own in my outlook, that men who grapple with fate and forge their own destiny through the power of their own will were long since a memory. I believed that I must bend that party to my own will, over many years and eventually lead it against the forces of Globalism, with the British people marching proudly behind me.

But, revelations abound, as that party sunk I grew closer to a party-comrade who had always fascinated me. A man of mystery, of few words but with a profound understanding of everything he spoke. A man loyal to the ideas of National Socialism, who revered Hitler every bit as I did. He was intelligent, well spoken, but never one to seek the limelight. I always felt like this man was watching me for something, some quality he was desperate to find there.

This man last year, borrowed me a book. It's name was "The Forgotten Soldier", in this book I saw untold horrors and hardship, my mind hardened. I saw proud men ravaged by war, for four years standing proud against a materially and numerically superior enemy on their home turf. I accepted that I myself, despite being working class and unemployed, was living a life of luxury, a life of scarce meaning.

At the end of last year this same comrade arranged for me to be present on a trip to the war graves of Ypres as part of a delegation to the European parliament. The first night I spent in the pleasant and very European market town of Ostend, chatting up lovely women and becoming insanely drunk to the point of sickness, the next morning could not have been more sobering. Having had little sleep, the overcast day I spent staring at multitudes of graves of brave British and German soldiers, lost to the inhumanity of war, felt like a dream. Drifting around the endless stones marking the boys and men slain in the muddy flat plains of Belgium (all too obvious on that rainy day) I was filled with an empty feeling.

I felt like the hardship I had previously known paled in comparison to the suffering of these men and men like them in Europe's other bloody wars and massacres of the twentieth century. That night was far less exuberant than the last, I spent it under the bridge at Ypres town centre, under the arches marked with the names of those whose bodies were lost to the mud of Flanders, watching with hundreds of others as the nightly remembrance ceremony took place before me.

This experience changed me more than any other experience had ever managed. I became more sombre, outwardly I was still the same witty and silly character but much more serious in my outlook of the world. My school friends who I had retained due to close bonds began to seem ever more distant, more alien, as if they had not grown and yet they were tied down by the trappings of adult life in a Globalised world. I grew apart from them more and more as the months grew on and my mind hardened more and more.

Atop Bleaklow Moor

 

This year something interesting happened, the prior mentioned comrade who I shall refer to as 'Kenobi' for the remainder of this article, invited me for a hike in the Peak District. My first hike, to Black Hill, was on my 23rd Birthday, there I experienced my first true taste of wilderness and the possibility of a simpler living, seeing the abandoned quarry in the hills made me think of Edoras, and the other towns of Rohan from the Lord of the Rings. My Pagan soul burned bright with the idea of living apart from civilisation.

My next trip took me up the cliff face of Bleaklow Moor, with lingering ice. That day I truly conquered the elements, stared death in the face and resolved to carry on. I had thought Kenobi to have gone mad, to have lost control of his senses, my mind narrowed by the impossible rock face of ice and loose rock that I had not expected to be climbing that day, in fact it was a test of my resolve.
I faced a sheer cliff, hundreds of feet from the ground, covered in ice and terror gripped me.
It took all my resolve to keep calm and slowly find the slivers of solidrock that I could hold onto.
After we reached the top, we walked for miles through dense moor covered in deep peat and animal traps. We crossed icy streams and hopped from hill to hill. I had invoked the gods that day, specificly might Thunor, to keep me strong.

Some time later, the All-Father came to me, not in a dream but in person, in the dark hours I saw his face, fatherly watching over me as I had slept and disappearing in the seconds after waking. I began to understand fully what had been guiding me, and to what purpose Kenobi guided me. Coincidentally, not many days after this I was asked back to Black hill by Kenobi, even snowier than before and deliberately taking the harder and steeper path to the top. I found myself cat crawling at fast pace up snowy hills and deliberately sliding hundreds of feet on my frozen arse for the pure joy of it!

During this trip something finally 'clicked' inside me, as I marched down hill, feet sodden and legs aching in the afternoon sun I finally felt like a warrior. What about this walk compared to, say Bleaklow, that changed me I do not know. Perhaps the bus ride home, reading poetry and exchanging smiles with a long-legged chestnut-haired goddess in a mini skirt also had an effect but ever since I seem less hesitant, more confident. In the past I had been wary of water on my face, squeemish about heights and generally a wimp, I had shirked my writing and found other things to do, I had found excuses not to exercise, where there was no good reason not to.

These past two days since I have found myself able to write at will, to the highest of my standards and with no fear of writer's block spoiling my efforts, I had found myself able to do things, hard things, with barely a protest in my mind against them.
 

I even wrote a ten page guide to writing poetry that I will further expand upon and perhaps eventually publish!

I feel that have truly become a man, that the disparate and conflicting threads of my mind have found common cause and created a greater being. I have many to thank for this, most of all myself, the gods and 'Kenobi', who I would like to give my thanks to especially.

I hope this article inspires you all to embark on a quest to conquer yourself, mine continues still, one can never fully delve into the reserves of your own self.

To conquer our foe, we must first become ourselves unconquerable. As our souls are the only permanent part of us, that remains consistent throughout our lives we must exercise it first and foremost.

Until all our souls are unconquerable.

SerpentSlayer

Im 30. Januar 1933...

 

 Achtzig Jahre seit dem Sieg der Nationalsozialisten in Deutschland, 30 Januar 1933. Hitler war das Licht in der Dunkelheit, die gewachsen ist und unsere Welt umhüllt, und dem Ende von allem, wird er der Retter geworden. Trinken sie einem Toast heute Abend auf der edlen Wolf, der unsere feind der Stiele, jede Bewegung und Aktion.

Forgive me my foray into the tongue of our Teutonic brothers and sisters but considering the day and the victory of the man and movement it commemorates, I feel it appropriate. I feel also that I must write about the significance of the National Socialist victory against the forces of Jewish-International-Bolshevism, now commonly referred to as Globalism and what it means for us today.

Since 1815 the forces of international finance had become increasingly stronger, the rise of the Rothschilds and their like had seen to it that usury, manipulation and subversion were the order of the day. The days when benevolence and charity were a factor in the flow of money were long gone. The brutal four year war that rocked Europe, left Britain and France as the dominating powers of Europe, both bought by international capital and keen to suppress their erstwhile rival, Germany. Germany having been betrayed by the ideological brothers of the international financiers, the Marxists, lay at the mercy of the powers it had stood steadfastly against but months earlier, and those powers were found to be fully geared towards spite. 

Under the terms of the treaty of Versailles, Germany was reduced to a mere shadow of itself, hyperinflation saw to it that many died of cold and starvation, there was rebellion after rebellion by those who has fought for their fatherland in the trenches and now fought for her in the streets and by opportunists who sought to further cripple their country and hand her over to the Internationalists piece by piece. But amongst this madness and death, a war hero, a Gefreiter (that is a Corporal) who was several times wounded and twice decorated with Germany's highest honour, the Iron Cross, preached a message of salvation through will and determination. he preached that Germany could cast loose the chains of Globalist parasitism and restore what was lost in the 14-18 war.

In dark times it took but one man and the ancient symbol of the Hooked Cross, commonly referred to as the Swastika or the Fylfot, to rally his people against their all-powerful tormentors. Unfortunately for Germany and for Europe, those same forces used their allies in the East to prosecute a devastating war that destroyed any hope Europe had for salvation, and that man was but one of millions of brave men, women and innocents to die in a war to consolidate Globalist power. Ever since, the nations of the West have sacrificed their sovereignty, borders, industry and lands to satisfy the greed of it's financiers and political class.

And now, eighty years later we see a Europe crippled by debt slavery (and Africa and the America's also!) false science, lies and guilt used to tax the poor and benefit the already wealthy. People are shipped from nation to nation, the young are left unemployed and lowly paid if not and the streets of Europe no longer bear any semblance to their former selves. The nations of southern Europe are now crippled almost entirely by the debts taken on by their treacherous leaders and owed to the 'German', 'British' and 'American' (the ethnicities of their presidents of benefactors can be left to research) banks, in Greece especially Hitler's message is now finding further ground, perhaps it may be their salvation.

The significance for us is that we now find ourselves in increasingly darker times where freedom of speech is suppressed, outright lies are the order of the political day, the people are increasingly poorer and unemployed, surveillance of civilians is commonplace and to all seeing eyes and hearing ears the puppet governments of international finance are becoming more tyrannical and erratic by the day, furthermore to those with a keen perception, threads of fate are weaving a different pattern, things are turning.

Keep safe and enjoy good health,
SerpentSlayer

A Summation of the Last Year, and a message to those that tread into the new.

2013 is here and we are over halfway through January already. The world find itself in a state no dissimilar from what it was throughout the last, no massive world changing events as many, like myself had predicted. Just incremental change of the type we have had since around the time of the Arab spring. people are poorer, angrier and more powerless to shape their own fates by the day. Globalism has grown strong and arrogant, it now believes it can disarm, silence, murder, spy on people and generally do what it likes.

One could truly say that if the serpent has not reached it's tail then it soon will do, my point being that the shadowy cliques that centre around powerful banking dynasties have enveloped the world. controlling, watching and enslaving virtually everyone within it.  If you aren't a wage slave, placated by intrinsically worthless paper money, then you are being forced out of your home, starving, left to rot. People are shifted across continents to drive down the wages of western peoples, wars are fought to secure oil supplies in the name of 'democracy' and 'freedom', words spoken by men and women who have no loyalty to either.

The only remotely strong resistance to the proponents of human slavery and totalitarian Communist-Capitalism are states such as Iran, Syria, Venezuela and Cuba, with China and Russia curbing the ambitions of the world destroying Federal United States Government and it's puppets and puppet master, Israel.

Things are not looking good, the Anti-Globalism, Pro-Liberty candidate in the US was beaten by eventual loser Mitt Romney in the Republican primaries, Nationalist movements across Europe vary from moderate hopes of success (Golden Dawn) to the dead and dying (BNP). Truth be told the prospects fora reversal of the worlds fortunes look slim. Only the Norns know what this year will bring for us all but until then all those opposed to tyranny should be prepared to do what they must to bring it down. Hoard supplies, train your body, learn new skills, acquire contacts and await the arrival of the game-changer.

SerpentSlayer

Lies, Subterfuge and Blasphemy

Adolf Hitler 'The Great', ruler of Germany 1933-1945

http://firstlightforum.wordpress.com/2011/05/22/adolf-hitler-a-jewish-homosexual-in-on-big-jewrys-plan-to-wipe-out-white-christian-europeans/


Above is a link to a disgusting pseudo-intellectual article by a man I consider to be the sickest traitor to our cause I have ever come across, not least because he purports to be one of us. I hope nobody is too disturbed by it or becomes demoralised by the lies it contains.

In it he slanders one of the finest human beings to have ever lived based off of gossip surrounding the man's grandmother and the fact that Ernst Rohm was a homosexual. I have outlined my position in this open letter to Simon Gibson below:

To Mr.Gibson,

I take this article as a declaration of war against heaven. As an ‘avatar’ of Odin the hanged god, Adolf Hitler was a representative of Asgard, home to the progenitors of the Aryan race.
All the conclusions you have made are based off of hearsay and in my opinion, spite, spite aginst the only man who could speak up for Germany and for German people in their darkest hour. He was a man sent by the Aesir, an old soul who had lived many centuries and thus into a pureblooded German body. The man suffered immense hardship and victimisation by the Jewish state as did all who followed him. You have wrote many entertaining paragraphs about things peripheral to the articles bold and heretical title and none of them have convinced me that you are anything but a fool and a jackanape.

You even take the word of Jewish historians to describe the Fuhrer, that says it all. Ever since he registered on their radar they have slandered him with the same accusations you are regurgitating

Your presupposition was that Rohm had some massive influence of the Führer, that maybe he was in love with him. Even the rubbish and biased state education I recieved did not deny that the Führer ordered that fat faggot shot. I see no reason to nitpick every word you have written but I can state that you have the wrong frame of mind for the oncoming struggle, should we ever meet Mr.Gibson I would be happy to educate you in the error of your ways as gentlemen should resolve such matters.

In the meantime I suggest you rethink your life and evaluate whether you are in this  for  the good of the Aryan race and of our holy ancestors in Asgard, Alfheim and Vanaheim.

Yours most sincerely and despite the letter writing convention,
Robert Shepard,
Cult of the hanged god.

I as I have rarely if ever mentioned on here subscribe to the belief that Hitler was either a messenger of the gods, or something supernatural himself. (Some believe one of the autistics, who were once believed to be Elves in human form according to folk tales, a belief I do not discourage the spread of)
As such I have a devotion as strong to him as I have to my people, I believe, like Odin he is the very embodiment of Aryan values and to denigrate him is to denigrate our race as a whole. Whats more I must emphasise that in fighting communism, the Führer stood not only for the Aryan race but for all other human races. The Zionists wish to see us all destroyed, preferably by mutual destruction and it would be foolish to reject this man out of the Judeo-Marxist concept of 'racism' or any other such baloney. To fight Zionism you must raise the banner they fear most, that of the sun cross, preferably in the form that shines the brightest, with the red background, white circle and the black hooked cross.

It is not politically correct to say but I say this from the inner depths of my heart:

Heil Hitler.

Thanks for reading.