I looked out of the window this evening and caught a glimpse of a slither of blood-red through the billowing clouds and for a fleeting moment I felt the weight of the world crushing me. I imagined all those that had came before and I ventured that they too must have gazed up at just such a sky and how it presumably put things into a greater perspective. It is true that many thousands of our antecedents may well have witnessed this marvel before some great act of heroism or when consciously facing their own mortality. I often wonder how few of them palpably sensed the void that exists beyond our own existence; the uncertainty that after we have passed from this physically realm and into the unknown that there will be those left behind who share our principles, aspirations, and genetic inheritance and the determination to carry on the upward surge of our movement and our race. It is an unsettling thought and one that asks of us a question that it is difficult to immediately answer: what will I do within my lifetime that will make a difference?
The past has ended and what we do in the present is the only variable affecting the future. The past is a library of mistakes, of endless mazes and the occasional, but infrequent, flash of genius and insight, but it is most definitely over and can never be resurrected. The serene yet cold rationality of Western science permits only the present and the void – a future – that should be filled. How will we be judged by those who will inevitably occupy this fluid, temporal space? How will we affect them and provide them with the necessary insight and guidance? Can we make a difference?
I believe that we must render something tangible to the unimaginable people who will take the baton from us after our time on this planet has passed; we cannot defer responsibly once again. And that, dear reader, is the crushing weight of the world. It supersedes all other supplementary notions and stimuli, it is the responsibility of the enlightened and it is both majestic and terrible.
Adolf Hitler once said that, “Germany must live, even though we die,” and this truth abides still though in a broader, contemporary context. Today, we embody Germany and its former ambitions and objectives, and we similarly stand against the forces of darkness and the odds are, as usual, not stacked in our favour. For our movement to have survived the hammer blows of our enemy’s inculcation, legislation and tyranny, we can truly define it as being a triumph of the will and that should encourage us. We represent the next phase in our long struggle for survival and betterment.
The weight of the world is indeed crushing us but like Atlas we must bear it, we have very little option. The knowledge that we possess is not something that can be shrouded in dubious memories or intoxicants, it is a glowing and sentient thing; it lives beyond our physical state and transcends any single generation. Life itself is subordinate to our cause.
There exists a current that ebbs and flows through us as living vessels of the cause. For decades, sentient creatures are conceived and they flourish and fade during the ebb-time while others are fortunate enough to experience the flow. Some unique individuals have the capacity to harness this essence and, standing above it like a heavenly bodies, they generate an energy that affects the very tide of life, it shifts its momentum and alters the current.
We stand before a tidal wave of change and we can sense the residual static that emanates from the awesome altering of the forces of the planet. We have been gifted a vision of what might have been and that should both nourish us and drive us onward. It must not, however, be allowed to hinder or restrict our velocity. And, although our enemies crushed the tentative realisation of our potential, it is a fundamental law of known physics that energy cannot be destroyed.
Remember that it is the weight of the world that is crushing us it is not our enemies; they are merely mortal animals and degenerate animals at that. This immense burden is the expectation of all that has been, of those of our race fortunate enough to have glimpsed the slither of red through the clouds and detect and translate its meaning even though they would never witness the dawn. It is also the personification of a latent destiny that waits patiently to fill the void before us.
Every manifestation of life is dependent upon us. All history, every philosophical perception or corporeal toil of Man, has climaxed in us and it balances precariously on our shoulders. It is a task that can be entrusted only to those who sense the magnificent pressure in every atom of their being, only those entities who truly understand their position in the boundless continuum of the universe. As William Pierce once said, “If we were only men we could not bear it. We would have to invent some supernatural being to foist our responsibility onto,” and, as such, we can consider ourselves above Man. We are the bridge to higher-man, the last skeletal step that our divine progeny must surmount before their ascension to godhood.
All life is born and eventual dies. And some life evolves within the gravitational polarity that exists between the twin constants of eternity. But our lives have slipped into the flowing current of the infinite, the process that serves the self-realisation of the creator itself. We consider our existence as an essential part of a greater whole, a whole to which millions of our kind have contributed and, with our eyes firmly fixed upon the radiating orb of a new dawn, upon whose mineralised remains we tread.
And so I became aware that the ephemeral slice of ruddy sunlight did not herald our impending demise, but it was in fact symbolic of something wholly new and incomprehensibly beautiful. Long live our Truth! Long live the New Tribe!