Path of Totality

— from Superman 2 (1980)

Loyalty Laws to Israel

GLR Speaks at Brown University “To learn who rules over you, simply find out who you are not allowed to criticize.” — Kevin A. Strom “I maintain that there’s nobody [that] has the right to tell you what you can hear, and what you can’t hear.” — George Lincoln Rockwell

Happy first day of Fall everyone! 🍂

Summer Ends

Episode 2 of Fireside Meditations: Paula Hitler's Letter to the Jewish Press regarding the immortality and significance of her late brother. Huge thanks to @AntarcticaReich for again taking the time to apply such artistic talent to my recording! Gott Mit Uns my folk 👌

Night Ride

Purity of Will, Spirit, Nation and Race

Happy Saturday everyone! 🔆 [Adolf Hitler with Verna and Friedelind Wagner, 1938]

5 I thought: people grow. I have grown. But she has not changed. She is still small. She is still young. Death does not permit growth or change. She still has golden hair. She will be forever young, and I will love her forever. Oh God, I will love her forever! The life guard tied up the sack again. Down the beach, a few moments later, I walked by myself. I stopped, and looked down at something. This is where the life guard found her, I said to myself. There, at the water's edge, lay a sand castle, only half-built. Just like Tally and I used to build them. She half, and I half. I looked at it. I knelt beside the sand castle and saw the small prints of feet coming in from the lake and going back out to the lake again and not returning. Then — I knew! “I'll help you finish it," I said. I did. I built the rest of it up very slowly, then I arose and turned away and walked off, so as not to watch it crumble in the waves, as all things crumble. — The Lake (1944) by Ray Bradbury

4 The life-guard boat pulled up on the shore. The life-guard stepped out of it, slowly, with something in his arms. I walked slowly down the sand to where the life guard stood. He looked at me. "What is it?" I asked. The life guard kept looking at me for a long time. "What is it?" I insisted. “She's been dead a long time. Ten years, I'd say. There haven't been any children drowned here this year. There were twelve children drowned since 1933, but we found all of them before a few hours had passed. All except one, I remember. This body here, why it must be ten years in the water. It's not — pleasant." I stared at the gray sack in his arms. “Open it," I said. He opened it only part way. That was enough. “Where did you find her?" I asked. "Down the beach, that way, in the shallow water. It's a long, long time for her, isn't it?" “Yes, it is. Oh God, yes it is!”

3 So many years, and the things they do to people's faces and bodies. I lengthened my bones, put flesh on them, changed my mind for an older one, threw away clothes that no longer fitted, shifted from grammar to high-school, to college. And there was a young woman in Sacramento. I knew her for a time, and we were married. By the time I was twenty-two, I had almost forgotten what the East was like. [My wife] suggested that our delayed honeymoon be taken back in that direction. It was on one of the last days that we walked down by the shore.

2 And now in the lonely autumn when the sky was huge, and the water was huge and the beach was so very long, I had come down for the last time, alone. “Tally!” I called her name for the last time, and I shivered. Then, I knelt and built a sand castle, shaping it fine, building it as Tally and I had often built so many of them. But this time, I only built half of it. Then I got up. "Tally, if you can hear me, come in and build the rest." The next day, I went away on the train.

The Lake 1 It was September. In the last days when things are getting sad for no reason. The beach was so long and lonely with only about six people on it. I stood there. Everyone else was in school. I was not. Tomorrow I would be on my way west across the United States on a train. Mom and I had come to the beach for one last brief moment. I went down to the water, and let it cool up to my stomach. I called her name. A dozen times I called it. “Tally! Tally!...” I thought of Tally, swimming out into the water last May, with her pigtails trailing, blond. She went laughing, and the sun was on her small twelve-year-old shoulders. I thought of the water settling quiet, of the life guard leaping into it, of Tally's mother screaming, and of how Tally never came out. . . . .

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep; If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. — a children’s bedtime prayer

Swastika in Space

Night Flight

7 So saying, the world-famous Minister of Popular Enlightenment and Propaganda rose briskly from his chair, and gave me a vigorous handshake. I had got “the dope”. — from Into the Darkness: Nazi Germany Today (1940) by Lothrop Stoddard