The coming European Civil War (5) – The Question
January 22, 2017 in Uncategorized
The coming European Civil War(s)
Part 5: The Question
It was very late, and they had been talking for hours.
Now, silence reigned, and Gustav reflected on the wide areas of History and Culture that they had covered. They had discussed the multiplying terrorist outrages in great length. The Bataclan massacres, the Charlie Hebdo outrage, the truck attacks in Marseille and Berlin. They had discussed the rampant child grooming scandals, and the stunning degrees to which Police, Social Workers, and local politicians had ignored the years long scandal. How the very forces that should have protected young children, were complicit in a massive cover up. How the gullible masses were being manipulated, and expected to accept the continuing wave of attacks as 'the new normal'. A regrettable, but perfectly acceptable price for the wondrous benefits that multi-cultural diversity was sure to bring, at some glorious future date. But what had touched Gustav the most, were the endless photos of young women raped, and mercilessly beaten. Scarred for life, mentally and physically. Their young faces, beaten black and blue. Their once bright eyes pummeled shut. Teeth knocked out. Contusions, abrasions, deep scars and puncture wounds over every inch of their bodies. Cigarette burns. Rope burn marks around wrists and ankles, a testimony to the utter brutality so gratuitously exercised. It was hard to imagine why a man, any man, would seek to methodically destroy the fresh beauty of such young people. Gustav found his teeth clenching, and his breath coming quickly, in short agitated bursts. When he looked up from studying the carnage of the Government protected Muslim rape gangs, he noticed that the old man was studying him closely.
Next came written reports. Newspaper cuttings. Legal omissions and failures. Rapists given absurdly pitiful custodial sentences. Or, worse, let out on bail. Suspended sentences. It was clear that judges were under tremendous pressure. Possibly even fearful to be labelled 'racist'. The prisons themselves, full of Muslims, were out of control. Pressure groups were lobbying left, right and center for the rights of prisoners. Correction officers, in fear of their careers if labelled 'racist' were unable -or unwilling- to maintain rigid discipline. It was if the prisoners ran the jails. They probably did.
Gustav, increasingly angry, struggled to formulate his thoughts. Victor, nodding patiently, produced a piece of paper, and handed it across.
“This”, he said, “was posted anonymously on the Internet. It is written in reply to a question somebody asked. Namely “What is guerilla warfare like? What is it like to fight a superior foe?” This answer has been circulated widely. Nobody knows who wrote it, or even which conflict it refers to. But there is, of course, speculation. I'd like you to study it closely, and tell me if you sense it to be true and accurate, or a faked, made up story.”
Gustav read for several minutes in silence.
What is guerilla warfare like? How does it feel to wage war against a superior foe?
Ah.
Are you sure you wish to know? Is it idle curiosity? Nothing better to do? A few seconds of titillation? Before you surf off to something else? Or do you wish, somehow, to understand? To gain an insight? To learn from History? Truly? I can tell you this: if you gaze into the abyss, beware.
Why?
Because the abyss stares back at you.
It's 01.20 in the morning. I can't sleep. That's a commonplace. I often roam the night. I don't need some blasted psychologist to get his mitts into my mind, and diagnose me with some fancy-dancy, technical, pseudo trendy mental disorder. I have always felt a cold contempt for shrinks. Stay away from me. You will get nothing. Just a silence, and eyes that are closed to you. I already know that there are scars, deep scars, carefully hidden away. For decades. They are my scars, and I don't need your irreverent, curious, wanna see and wanna poke, clinical questions trying to dissect my thinking like some lab rat. I've been there, and you got very little. You never will.
Yet, as I grow older, I sense the time is maybe approaching to finally tell at least some fraction of my story. And maybe not. When I saw this question on Quora, I tried to ignore it. I would go back, and look at it. Ignore it. It was almost as if my fingers, despite themselves, crept towards the keyboard. I pulled them back. Surfed away. Tried to forget the question. Next thing, once again, I found myself studying the… the… abyss. My fingers creeping forwards. My mind pulling them back. Yes, I have a story to tell. Maybe.
A loved one recently asked me, one quiet night, to talk about it. I asked: why?
I already knew the answer. I am loved. Those who love me, wish to understand. They sense the wall that pushes them back. Maybe it hurts them.
What is guerilla warfare like? How does it feel to wage war against a superior foe?
I think about those who love me. I think about how to explain to them, simply, that
some knowledge is dangerous.
It is maybe better not to know what your father was involved with. What he did. What he supported. Carefully. In cold blood. As a… what? To them, we were terrorists. Evil. Snakes. Monsters. Reviled.
Was I? Were we? No heart? No compassion? Or did we maybe care a lot?
You might think I ramble. But I am merely preparing the ground for the few here, the very few, who earnestly seek to -perhaps- understand. Only the 'anonymous' feature of Quora even makes this hesitant step into the daylight tentatively possible. The confronting of demons, that are now multiple decades old.
I never decided to become a 'guerilla fighter'. Or a paramilitary. I never consciously made that decision, as a decision. It was a process. It started when I was a young man, late teens. Infuriated by rampant injustice. Or maybe it started before that. On my mother's knee. Listening to terrible stories. As she would tell me, quietly, unutterably sadly, of a History full of wrongs. She would tell me of Injustice, and thuggery. We would speak in hushed tones, as if somebody might be listening. I will always remember the sadness in her eyes. The look of fear. A shadow. So I grew up with the seeds already planted in my mind. As a teenager, I finally saw, and experienced, first hand. I was beaten up, viciously, kicked unconscious, solely for being identified as being on 'the wrong side'. And I admit, I mouthed off. Those who kicked me, beat me, spat on me, and screamed hate-filled religious obscenities in my face, wore uniforms. They regularly carried pick ax handles. Although dressed in Law Enforcement uniforms, I saw them throw bricks and Molotov Cocktails, assist in burning down houses, and wholly pervert the cause of the Law. The Government Media -of course- pretty well covered that part up. That is all I will say. And they helped, unwittingly, to create a monster. A fury, that was to re-visit them, over and over. On my terms.
From then on, a quiet, hidden rage consumed me. Behind my nonchalant exterior, carefully crafted, burned a terrible fire.
What is guerilla warfare like? How does it feel to wage war against a superior foe?
It's lonely. It's dangerous. It's a paranoid existence. You want to constantly look over your shoulder – literally. You train yourself, force yourself, not to do so. You discover a coldness inside of you, that is truly sub zero. A hardness, that is beyond granite. Even as you pass through checkpoints, and your car or truck is searched, and you act the amiable fool, and chat about the weather, knowing what lies hidden in a secret compartment, (and the consequences) you are cold. Every nerve is tingling. You loiter seemingly unhurriedly under their very guns, the barbed wire and their guard towers, as if you are without a care in the world.
Imagine, if you like, a small room, late at night. The people in that room, maybe five or six altogether, speak quietly. I am shown photographs. Street maps. We plan. We work out how we are going to do it. We have days to plan, sometimes weeks. It is all about the how. We are way past the why. It is important that you understand that. The why is unspoken. The why was a stage I went through that started on my mother's knee. It ended on the floor of a small, rundown house, with six or eight uniformed thugs kicking me unconscious. Laughing while they were doing it.
You never forget.
Our little cell, beautifully organised, impossible to crack open meaningfully (only our leader knew anybody above), was to meet many times. And plan. And carry out.
The first time I squeezed off a trigger in earnest was on a dark night. The first time I killed was on a dark night. Unlike some of the other stories here, where contributors describe remote actions, the results of which were largely unseen (smoke in the distance), when you fire into somebody's head, from fifteen feet away, it's personal. His head jerked, and he went down without a kick, and lay perfectly still. It was the result of weeks of careful planning, and it worried me not in the slightest. Even after all these years, I still feel the ice cold contempt. He deserved it, believe me. For what he had done.
Ah. Many minutes have gone by. I contemplate what I have written. Some part of me wishes to delete this draft. Forget it. Another part of me is like a silent old man, gazing thoughtfully into the fire. As the flames sputter, and lick hungrily around the logs, you wonder where his silent mind has gone. You wonder what shadows he sees in the fire. I can tell you what he sees. Sadly.
History repeating itself.
Because of infuriatingly dumb politicians. The lessons of yesterday, the lessons of centuries, unstudied, unlearned. More young men are facing the cold wind of quiet realization. Yes, my young friend. The Media are absurdly biased. Bought and paid for. Most politicians are empty chattering heads. Together they are surrendering your country. Sacrificing your culture. Endangering your loved ones. In my time, along ethnic and religious lines. It was attempted ethnic cleansing. Today, in Europe, same-same-similar, disguised perhaps (for now) ( “Our Message is one of Peace “) but you are being led to slaughter on the bullying, thuggish altar of political correctness. Cultural suicide looms large. The inevitable imposition of an alien culture and a disguised, but nonetheless hate-filled alien belief system. It hurts. I know. Will you be led willingly into the dark night? Like sheep to the slaughter?
What is guerilla warfare like? How does it feel to wage war against a superior foe?
I don't regret my actions. It was thought out, premeditated. I do regret some of the unutterably stupid that was carried out in our name. We were totally outnumbered. By a factor of… what? Here, I just hit the calculator. In our area, about a hundred and fifty to one. A hundred and fifty of them, in uniforms, against one of us, like a ghost, appearing, and disappearing. But our very existence hinged on our cell structure. You and I could belong to the same organisation, and pass one another in the street, during daylight, and not recognize one another. We would never realize that we had met up at a prearranged spot one night, wearing balaclavas, to take on a vastly superior enemy. The cell structure is powerful, but also leads to surprises. Other people doing 'stuff' that leaves you furiously angry. Own goals. Insane foolishness. And that I regret. Bitterly.
The years have rolled by. I look back, and I have regrets. I don't regret the struggle. We achieved a lot. The blatant injustices are mostly a thing of the past now. They know better. But I am sad at the suffering. On both sides.
Did we learn from History? Did you? Did our politicians?
Hell, no.
Look at what is happening in Europe today. Don't you think that many already see the writing on the wall? Don't you think that already, all over Europe, embittered young men are quietly banding together? Giving up on their elected 'leaders'? It's a repeat of the late nineteen thirties. Whilst Chamberlain and his doves tried hard to appease Hitler, making fine speeches, and appealing to lofty principles of brother nations, insightful young men quietly joined the services, and the understaffed Royal Air Force. They knew what was coming. It didn't take a genius. The Teutonic writing was on the wall. Today, this time, the common enemy is a different one. The script is different as well. But the Radical Entity, relentless, unstoppable in its fanatical zeal, like a ravenous beast, shares many of the same characteristics. Insatiable. Fanatical. Cunning. Fascist, in many respects.
Yes, I suspect this chimera will be confronted. In time. When people have finally had enough of the cowardly appeasement and mass surrender of their politicians. But strong young men will bleed, and die, before this is over.
History is being written today, by the unbelievably dumb actions of Angela Merkel and co. I'm not sure which characteristic is the most egregious: their stunning naivety, or their hubris. The seeds of future armed civil conflict have been 'liberally' spread. Young men are quietly organizing. From Sweden to Austria, and Belgium to Poland. And they too will turn to the cell structure. It's the only way. If you are serious.
What is guerilla warfare like? How does it feel to wage war against a superior foe?
You do what you have to do. Most ordinary folk will roll over. Grumble, complain, fuss. Submit. Do nothing. A handful of men (and women) organize. The dedicated ones are incredibly hard to beat. That has been proven, over and over again. History is often shaped, decisively, by a relatively small, even tiny handful of dedicated…
Guerillas. Freedom fighters. Militia members. Thugs. Terrorists. Paramilitaries.
It depends entirely on your point of view. On your experiences. How hard they kick you in the face. How much they terrify your parents. How hard they leer at your sister. How absurdly they undermine and subvert the Rule of Law. How successfully – and blatantly- they push you out of whole neighborhoods. Often, one street at a time. Sound familiar? Nothing changes.
I sigh, and debate hitting 'submit'.
Maybe I should just 'delete' the bloody thing.
I don't know. I honestly don't know.
More than forty years later, the fire is burning.
Still.
.
Evocatus
Gustav handed the paper back.”It's powerful.” He reflected. “And it's genuine”.
Victor studied him closely. “Why do you think that?” His voice was soft.
“Because of the loneliness. The paranoia. The death of normality. You cross over, and life can never be the same again. You have lost something. Innocence. It's true. I can feel it.”
Victor, with his eyes steady, and his voice level, regarded him gravely.
“You are right. It's a huge step”.
There was a silence in the room, interrupted only by a tired ceiling fan.
Almost as an afterthought, Victor added:
“And you are correct. It IS genuine. I know it is.”
He got up, and headed out of the room. He paused, with his hand on the door knob.
“I know…”
His eyes were clear, and firm.
“Because I wrote it.”
(to be ctd.)
Last edited by Francis Meyrick on January 27, 2017, 10:39 pm
The coming European Civil War (4) an Old Man
January 22, 2017 in Uncategorized
The coming European Civil War(s)
Part 4 – an Old Man
Gustav had known there was something brewing, when an innocuous package had arrived via secure SOW special delivery. It had contained tickets for a round trip flight. International. From Europe. To, of all places, Arizona, USA. Along with the tickets, was a small, cheap phone. Of the pre-paid, disposable, throw-away type. A brief note instructed him to not use the phone for any other purpose than to listen out for a call after landing and clearing Immigration at Phoenix. The note was unsigned. A separate pouch contained a thousand dollars in crisp one hundred dollar bills.
In due course, he had been standing, sweltering, outside the Phoenix Sky Harbor Passenger terminal. After what seemed an eternity, the phone rang. A clipped voice briskly instructed him to take a taxi cab ride to a local landmark, and rung off immediately. From there, Gustav received several more short calls, directing him on a circuitous route through, amongst other things, a long, dark, parking garage. It was clear that his minders were making sure he wasn't being followed. He guessed they were watching. In due course, emerging back into the sunlight, a screech of sudden brakes beside him, an urgent wave of a hand, and he was inside a pickup truck with heavily tinted windows. Speeding away.
The driver spoke not a single word.
Hours later, with Gustav quite lost, they drove up beside somebody's desert home. The walls were painted adobe red, and the tiled roof gave it a Mexican appearance. An unsmiling maid ushered him into a small study, and closed the door gently behind him. Seated at a large desk, an old man slowly turned around. He smiled politely, stood up, and advanced with outstretched hand.
“Greetings, Gustav. My name is Victor. “
A week had gone by. Gustav, who had never even held a firearm in his hand, had been taught to shoot, clean, disassemble and even repair a host of weapons. Starting with a single action Ruger Blackhawk .357 and advancing through a double action GP100, he had moved on to a variety of Glock semi-automatics. Firing from ranges as close as three yards to thirty yards, he had been meticulously schooled in accuracy and rapidity. From there, he had learned to shoot an AR15 rifle in semi-automatic mode. After many hundreds of rounds, and many field strip downs and re-assemblies, some of which wearing a blindfold, he had moved on to full automatic fire. He had then fired an AK47, an Uzi submachine gun, and a MAC-10 machine pistol. He had also used a wide variety of suppressors. He had peered through a three power scope, and fired out to 500 yards. He had been shown an unfinished, so-called 80 per cent completed polymer pistol frame, and, with the aid of a drill press and a vice, he had been coached in the completion process. It had been a strange, surreal experience, after a couple of hours, to slide a nine millimeter Glock slide/barrel assembly down the freshly finished and sanded rails, fore to aft, and hear the satisfying mechanical click indicating locking. With Victor's encouragement, he had dry fired the newly born gun, ratcheted the slide, dry fired, and repeated the process. Over and over. Victor had then looked his work over, made some very small adjustments, and handed the brand new weapon back to its awed creator.
“Well, Gustav. Do you think it will fire?”
Gustav, still overawed, had looked blank. Fire? His work?
The Old Man had smiled. “Let's find out, shall we?”
They had gone to the range, and to the command of “Steel targets, rapid fire!”, Gustav had emptied three ten round magazines in a pleasing haze of gun smoke. With two flawless tactical magazine changes. As the booming died away, and the slide locked back, he almost felt guilty about a surge of savage satisfaction. Something primordial, that rang echoes in dusty, long forgotten corridors. With vague shadows stirring. He shook himself. He wondered what was happening to him.
On the evening of the eighth day, He found himself sitting in the study of the old man. Sipping a glass of a good Bordeaux. It was clear that Victor wanted to discuss something with him. The old man, mild and pleasant, was studying him closely. At length, he cleared his throat, and came straight to the point.
“So tell me, Gustav, if you had to, do you think you could kill a man? “
The room fell oddly silent.
Outside, particles of sunlight, photons, arrived in a blaze of glory.
It had taken them eight minutes and twenty seconds to make their journey from our Sun.
(to be continued)
Last edited by Francis Meyrick on January 27, 2017, 8:43 pm
The coming European Civil War (3) Tactics
January 22, 2017 in Uncategorized
The Coming European Civil War (s)
Part Three: Tactics
Gustav knows the First Step Cell members, of which he is an ordinary member, very well.
Older men mostly, they have known each other for many years, well before the date of the Great Betrayal, on September 5th, 2015. A Day that was destined to live in Infamy and Contempt. Merkel's Great Madness. A sweeping promise, a blank check, the Surrender of Innocence, delivered without much forethought, never mind consultation, by an ageing, childless , burned out, limelight hogging, deluded and treacherous Virtue Seeker. The worst type. The biggest possible liability. In the first throes of Senile Decay. With an irrational, pathological fear of dogs. Gustav regards Merkel's tenure as destructive and as perfidious as that of the reviled Vidkun Quisling. World War two Nazi collaborator, and traitor to Norway. Gustav fervently wishes upon Hure Merkel the same fate as that which befell Vidkun. Firing Squad. Meanwhile, until the German people finally come to their senses, and the sleepwalking, cowed, and pitifully pliable masses awaken, Gustav knows it's all down to
the small, reviled minority
to step up
and change History
Again.
His own cell, of which he is the leader, is composed of younger men. His mind analyses them. It is he, and he alone who has carefully recruited them. They know only him as their contact person to the rest of the shadowy Spider's Web. At issue now, is their ability to adjust to a steady, but remorseless ratcheting up of the intensity of the conflict.
Sofar, their activities have been purely defensive in nature. Not involving the use of lethal Force. Street Patrols, protecting women and children. Meting out vigilante Justice. Broken heads, bloody noses, and plentiful bruises. Young Muslim thugs, accustomed to owning the streets at night, and increasingly during the days as well, have been in for some rude shocks. They are not -yet- used to encountering roving SOW patrols, in numbers, determined, capable and willing to mete out severe beatings on the spot. They are still plying their drug trade, enjoying their criminal enterprises, and openly leering and lusting after young white women. Their grooming gangs, enjoying undreamed of spoils, and ever intensifying their brazen contempt for Western Culture and values, are yet in full swing. The Rotherham Report, with the official figures of 1,400 young white girls between the ages of 11 and 16 sexually gang raped and abused for years, is a crudely attempted white wash of Police and Social Workers. And of an ineffective, effete, PC compliant British Government. The true numbers of victims is not only MUCH higher, the abuses continue, unabated. Increasing in scope and intensity. Gustav knows that the Muslims, with their numbers still -percentage wise- small, are demonstrating breath taking aggression, intolerance, and hatred for the West. It is a display of illegality and immorality, and contempt for everything Christian, that bodes extremely darkly for that which is yet to come. Once they have bred their numbers up. Gustav sighs. He sees pogroms, white genocide, and terror.
He walks back to his desk, and ponders the young, idealistic, desperately well meaning members of his own small cell. They look up to him. They will follow his lead. But are they ready? Ready for an intensification? A major -huge- escalation?
Trickling down from the top of the Pyramid, cautiously as ever, on guard against Government infiltration and espionage, a new tactic is being passed down. In simple words:
“It's time to take the fight to the enemy. “
Gustav is in complete agreement.
It's time to man up.
(to be continued)
Last edited by Francis Meyrick on January 27, 2017, 9:40 pm
The coming European Civil War (2) Strategy
January 22, 2017 in Uncategorized
The Coming European Civil War(s)
PART TWO: STRATEGY.
The development of the ideology of a hypothetical, deadly, pan European para-military force, we shall name “Sons of Wodan “. (SOW).
Let us try and get into the mindset of a hypothetical, mid-ranking Commander in the emerging SOW. Let's look at his challenges, in philosophical, emotional, spiritual and ideological areas. For ease, we'll call our patriot Gustav.
Gustav is a young man.
A career professional with a comfortable, affluent life style. He is soft spoken, unassuming, and highly intelligent. He is a student of History. But above all, he is an ice cold Realist. He has seen the organisation graduate from regular street patrols, dealing with petty thieves, thugs, and violent rapists, to an organisation capable and willing -where necessary – to carry out acts of arson, sabotage and mass civil disobedience. He has at his disposal determined young Patriot men, with muscle and courage, who love their country, and who are determined to fight the Great Merkel Betrayal to the bitter end. There will be no surrender to either the Islamic Invasion, orchestrated and sinister, or a capitulation to the Quisling Forces of appeasement. To those elected officials, and members of a cowed and broken, soulless Media, whose sole mission in Life up to this point has been to facilitate Islamic conquest as rapidly and speedily as possible. The welcoming of Sharia Law, the welcoming of a Muslim caliphate, the welcoming of cultural dilution of the Native Peoples. Cultural dilution initially. But after that, he strongly suspects, in a few short decades, cultural annihilation. De facto enslavement and subjugation to a violent, foreign, misogynistic, pedophile, sickeningly perverse 7th century cult.
He stands up from behind the flickering computer screen. Walks over to the window, and stares at the late evening sun setting over his beloved home land. How many generations of his forefathers have lived and died there? Too many to count. Going far back before recorded History even began, his ancestors had lived and toiled, worried and fought, bled and died, but never -ever- voluntarily surrendered their heritage. But now…
Now he had countrymen willing, eager, falling over themselves, to usher in their nation's permanent cultural demise.
He shakes his head. Time to plan ahead. Not wallow in the recent past. It is time to reflect. Plan. Plan. Plan.
The analytic, cold part of his mind took careful control. He silently listed their problems, one by one. Cogitating, meditating, reflecting.
A) They had to continue to swell their numbers of street soldiers, and organize them into effective, rapid reaction, fighting formations. This was easier said than done. INFILTRATION was the chief worry. Infiltration by agents of an increasingly hysterically repressive Government. The left Wing Government, dominated by so-called 'Liberals' who seemed to have hijacked a word and a value to which they intended only terminal harm. The last thing the Government desired was the 'Liberty' of its citizens, Free Speech or Self Determination. On the contrary. It was their way, or the High Way. Translated increasingly into long prison sentences.
B) After infiltration, the problem was INTERNAL EFFICIENCY, SECURITY AND RAPIDITY of COMMUNICATION. In just his local area, he counted over one hundred and fifty dedicated Patriots. Arranged in 'cells' with six to eight members in each cell, SOW relied on a complex and somewhat cumbersome methodology of 'trickle down' commands. They referred to it as “Descending The Pyramid “. Instructions would be passed down from the tip of the pyramid, the top echelon, and be distributed only to the Cell Leaders (also known as Commanders) on the First Step Down. There were eight such cells. Eight leaders. Commanding 57 men. Of those eight cells on the First Step Down, five cells had at least one further Internal Cell. One even had Four Internal cells. These were again cells of six to eight men, arranged on the Second Step down. Headed up by a Cell Commander, who was a dual rated individual. Acting both as Cell Commander for his Internal Cell, situated on the Second Step down, he also was an ordinary foot soldier reporting to HIS Cell Commander on the First Step Down. In this way, the Pyramid was being being constructed steadily from the top down. However, the design factored in hostile penetration of cells anywhere in the Pyramid Structure. No matter which cell was compromised, no matter which Step/Tier that cell was located on, damage limitation was regarded as paramount. Units were expected to exercise a high degree of autonomy, making flexible, local command decisions in accordance with their overall Aims.
C) After INFILTRATION and INTERNAL SECURE COMMUNICATIONS, the next issue was COMMITMENT & THE LEVEL OF PSYCHOLOGICAL PREPAREDNESS. It was one thing to ask Patriots to patrol their own communities with the safety of their own kinfolk in mind. Especially that of the women and children. Most volunteered for that enthusiastically. Armed with fists and feet, clubs and courage, such patrols were effective, and sent a message. The very weight of numbers lent the patrols courage. But Gustav knew that more challenging, pro-active action would be soon required. Taking the fight to the enemy. The psychological profile that matched with a Patriot using his fists and feet, did not necessarily extend a preparedness to use Force of Arms. Never mind, Lethal Force. That need was approaching quickly.
Gustav the patriot, stands at the window, and ponders these fundamental questions. He contemplates overall STRATEGY, and the resultant TACTICS to be used on the short term, local level.
His brow is furrowed.
In the distance, a bell tolls.
(to be continued)
Last edited by Francis Meyrick on June 3, 2017, 1:34 pm
European Civil War – Preparation
January 21, 2017 in Uncategorized
European Civil War – Preparation
In response to an article on the website www.europeancivilwar.com
“JUST HOW BAD ARE SWEDEN'S DEMOGRAPHICS”
(here is the link to the article concerned)
I replied as follows:
Julian
I agree that “observing and lamenting” has been the sad funeral march of the last two decades. Lots of laments. Lots of hand wringing. Lots of extrapolation. You write: “I try to keep this site focused as much as possible on preparation, action, and strategy.” Really. If that is true, then you will have to allow a certain uncomfortable ingredient (to many people) to assert its presence on your website. Or censor it. It's up to you. That uncomfortable, PC incorrect ingredient is the question of:
Fire arms.
The acquisition thereof. The training, distribution, and logistics issues.
If we take that plunge, and assume that many Swedes would rather stand and fight, rather than cower and surrender, then we can reasonably forecast an unmerciful attempted clamp down from the Political Establishment, and howls of hysterical outrage from the Left Wing Media. We all know that the Muslims are given a free pass, over and over again, (DEATH TO SWEDEN, DEATH TO DEMOCRACY, SHARIA WILL DOMINATE, MUSLIM AREAS, etc, etc) but that the alleged 'Far Right' gets thrown into jail and vilified in print for a TINY FRACTION of what the firebrand radical Imam easily gets away with. Appeasement, when it fails, seems to rev up into a crescendo of self righteous attack on anyone who has a different opinion. I'm wryly amused by Left Wing Politicians and Talking Heads who manage to wrap abject, grovelling surrender to Islam into the stirring mantle of a crusade of Moral and PC Righteousness. And then they expect us all to meekly fall for it. The cowardly, illogical, suicidal, Historically ignorant, luke warm POT calls the emerging, steadily boiling KETTLE by many pejoratives. Far Right, Racist, Xenophobic, ignorant, retarded, unenlightened, mean spirited and Fascist. I just chuckle at the shrill indignation these Left Wing feeble minds manage to muster every time. Given their propensity for outrage (and repressive Government brutality, reminiscent of the worst forms of State Excesses) to introduce an open and frank discussion on 'Preparation, Action and Strategy' might take you to a challenging place… Still, you stated your intention. I'm taking you up on it. Well, here are some clinically cold observations about fire arms, and the use of Lethal Force.
1. there has already been gun play and extreme violence & murder by Islamists all over Europe. Terrorist attacks. Who, in their right minds (we do not speak of Left Wing gibbering Governments currently empowered) still believes these are “isolated incidents”, and will not re-occur with increasing frequency? Who, in their right minds, still believes that Islamists are NOT furiously importing and stockpiling fire arms? Who, in their right minds, cannot see that Libby Hand-wringing Governments are HOPING that their docile populations remain lobotomized docile, and are willing to accept escalating terrorist violence as 'the new normal'? And are you? Seriously? Are you willing to believe in your own mind that a free people SHOULD NOT ARM THEMSELVES to PROTECT THEIR LIBERTY…??
2. If you are already angry and disgusted with me, then do not read on. It will upset your Snowflake Liberal stomachs. I calmly advocate that Europeans RAPIDLY ARM THEMSELVES, in contravention of their contemptible laws. It doesn't take a genius to figure out this is happening already anyway.
3. CAUTION: the distribution of illegal weapons in Europe is creating windfall profits for criminal gangs. These same gangs are involved in drug dealing, extortion, human trafficking and many other ills. The last thing a proud European Patriot needs is to enable an effete Government apparatus to lump HIM in together with vicious thugs and extortionists.
4. But help IS on the way. Already standing at the station actually, if only enough gutsy folk would climb on board. A means by which morally honest and upright European Patriots CAN in fact arm themselves quickly, relatively cheaply, and in the vast quantities required to equip and turn out effective -hence, respected – underground fighting forces. Capable of fighting, where need by, or, more likely, capable of adding potential 'teeth' to legitimate, negotiated demands. “If you want Peace (and stability, and safety for your women and children) (and grandchildren) BE PREPARED FOR WAR”. Having guns doesn't necessarily mean you have to use them. The old Colt was not named the “Peacemaker” for nothing.
5. This 'help' comes via technology. Not even break through technology. Previous century technology, merely increasingly refined. And available much more cheaply than ever before. Computer Numerical Control. CNC technology. A computer linked to a mill. I'm not an authority by any means, but I do have sitting on my desk here in Texas a so-called 80% lower AR 15 receiver. That's the critical part, that 'makes' the fire arm. (everything else is bolt-on extras, easily available mail order, shipped direct to your door). Nicely machined, but this 80% AR15 lower receiver is not yet a viable piece of a firearm. It needs finishing, and you can do that, perfectly legally, by simple drilling and use of dremel tools and files. And elbow grease. Amateurs have been legally doing this for decades. NO FFL license required. No Government involvement. There are a ton of videos on youtube describing the legal process. Here's just a sample.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svtIp2wzl1A&t=123s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpeTkT2K32M
The next step up is to manufacture a complete AR15 receiver from a billet of aluminum. Nothing too difficult. here's a video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAdnZ6xsWtU&t=54s
It is important to note there is a HUGE after market for all the parts required to 'bolt on'. No licenses, no paperwork.
6. Pistols. Yes, same thing. The ubiquitous Glock series of hand guns ( I own the Glock 21 and Glock 23) has many home buildable derivatives, and one is called the Compact 80. I have one on order, for study, completion and evaluation. In complete accordance with all Federal, State and local laws. Same thing, an 80% complete main frame, that the buyer has to finish off himself. Nothing revolutionary, old tech.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4ybB3Fcbvo
7. You can even automate the whole thing. 'Defense Distributed' is marketing the 'Ghost Gunner 2' for $1,500. I have one on order, for study and evaluation. I might buy myself an advanced $8,000 plus Tormach one of these days as well. For study and evaluation, in complete accordance with all applicable Federal and State laws. The basic Ghostgunner 2 at $1,500 turns out a finished AR-15 lower receiver in about three hours. Here's a video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YpHQ-tkTI8M&t=397s
Defense Distributed are working on the software to allow buyers to also finish a Sig Pistol.
8. I emphasize that all these pursuits are perfectly legal in the USA, and there is nothing new or breakthrough here. It's been going on for decades. Hobbyists have been going out forever target shooting and plinking, or hunting, with weapons they have crafted themselves. I shall soon be joining their ranks. Surely, that's all WHOLLY ILLEGAL in Europe. In Europe, it's ooh-la-la BAD-BAD-BAD to own a GUN for self defense of your good self, and for the protection of your loved ones. Even THINKING ABOUT IT, I'm sure makes you a nasty, mean spirited racist. A 'Far Right' Nazi.
What…!?
Protecting your wives and daughters from a RAPE EPIDEMIC makes you a nasty, mean spirited, 'Far Right' Nazi…??
Protecting against crazed, I.Q. deficient, inbred, first cousin marrying, illiterate, borderline retards, freshly imported from some disease ridden hell-hole, where they stone women to death for going out unaccompanied, and justify all manner of abominations merely because some equally crazed Imam furiously quotes hate-filled from some cobbled together 7th century plagiarized knock-off, makes YOU A RACIST…?
How long is any able bodied European male willing to even give that sort of so-called “Liberal” (ha!) PC GIBBERISH any worthy consideration?
Is the earth FLAT?
Did Prometheus f#@k it all up when he stole fire from Mount Olympus, and gave it to mankind?
Get a grip.
9. True European patriots will stand up, continue to stand up, and read the Arabic scrawl on the wall. Translated, it says: DEATH TO DEMOCRACY. It's written in freshly spilled blood. No exaggeration, no hyperbole. Blood. IF that lot are already THIS aggressive, hate-filled and intolerant when they are only at THIS PERCENTAGE LEVEL of the population, can you IMAGINE what it will be like if nothing is done and they DOUBLE in size, within a few short years, courtesy of your over-generous welfare benefits? And limp wristed, asinine Government? Sooner or later, some excuse, maybe some VIDEO, or a CARTOON, and you will have a good old fashioned POGROM on your hands. White genocide. It's going to be a bit late at that stage to say: “Oops…” and “maybe that Far-Right nasty Nazi Francis Meyrick DID actually have a point…”
10. Preparation – action – strategy. Having dealt with re-armament, by ignoring criminal gangs, and turning to CNC technology, widely available already in Europe, Patriots will have prepared. I have a lot more to speculate on what their action and strategy might be, but I will pause here for now… Plus I need to duck all the rotten eggs and verbal abuse, death threats and hate mail about to come my way. Bring it on.
Francis Meyrick
Last edited by Francis Meyrick on February 2, 2018, 7:23 am
Loco Ocean Life
December 9, 2016 in Auto-biographical (tuna helicopters)
Cabin fever – Going Crazy on a boat

Your mind is an interesting thing. It can be a great contributor of thoughts of valor and intrigue but… It can also be its own undoing.
Since nearing 8 months in the fishing ground. The relevance of “That guy said he was going crazy ” is more relevant. The mass amount of time afforded to idle hands without short term goals can certainly give rise to an internal struggle between past and present. The crazy phase of the tuna field. The incessant cabin fever; indicated by pacing, and restlessness sprouted by the general lack of anything to do.
I had witnessed this from two chaps after they surpassed the half-way mark. It seems idle hands become evident in the minds of the pilots during this time. In some, a negative presence becomes present in their voice and they can begin to hate the sea. The trap, the ocean prison. I wondered when this was going or rather IF it was going to happen to me…
Welp, month 7 and I found myself reflecting on my life, all of the mistakes and problems that have inherited me in my youth. A negative hold in my mind. Beating myself up from past mistakes and habits. Many different situations where I was wrong or simply was not a nice person to myself or others. Uttering, 'why oh why did I do that?' It is an interesting thing to never live with regrets and amidst the sea you lose it! Losing the will to write, read, practice random hobbies, and study languages. Here amidst the sea of seas, I was lost. A defined discipline to work-out, and improve myself seemed hopeless. In simple thoughts of “Is the world passing me by? ” I had hit the wall, the negative, the self-reflection of the past and all the mistakes, all the struggles of growing up presented in a negative light. Pacing through the boat at an alarming rate was interesting, nowhere to go and nothing new to see but constantly moving. A trapped wanderlust, to only be calmed when I got called to fly!
I had always wondered why I liked to waste a quarter of a gas tank and just drive. To dream, to think, to feel, and when it was time to let my brain decompress I simply would just stop, stop driving. However, on the boat, you cannot stop. You are in the middle of the ocean with 37 other people on a fishing Purse Seiner. You are free on the boat but you are in a prison, a prison on the ocean. Surrounded by more of that deep blue water than your eyes can see. The feeling of hopelessness was inescapable and so was the lack of motivation. It was easier to sleep away a day and watch movies rather than exercise my body or my brain. The complacency with performing aircraft checks and the reliance on the mechanic was apparent.
This was a dangerous point brought up by Mr. Ron Barr. “That is telling you something Mate! ” Listen to what that is telling you Ron explained. A common occurrence in aviation and especially in the fishing ground is complacency…. Well, admittedly I had F%$#ed up… “You got away lucky. ” Ron said after I explained a situation where I accidently fried the living ba-jeezez out of the engine exhaust cap in a hurry to please the new Fishmaster -Captain-. In a storm, he called standby and instantly he was awaiting us on the Heli-Deck while smoking a cigarette, arms crossed awaiting for us to take-off. We were currently searching for fish in the outskirts of a Cyclone that had been the demise of 3 purse seiner vessals in Taiwan. The largest of the season. In this condition, all the covers, and tie downs were on. Except in this case, we normally never had the exhaust cover on the aircraft but due to the crashing wave conditions in the previous few days, it was on. As we scrambled to take the tie downs off and engine cowling cover, the fishmaster gestured at his watch while he casually smoked his cigarette. “fuuuck this guy, needs to give us more time. ” In a panic, I look at my mechanic and he looks at me. “Clear ” As the engine slowly gets to 16% I introduced fuel and I noticed the time-to-climb was much slower than normal on the N1 compressor turbine. The TOT temp rose above a normal temperature and slowed but continued to climb until just shy of 800 degrees and at 4 seconds in the yellow, I shut it down in a hot start procedure and immediately the engine cooled. Whew! My mechanic looks at me then points at the rear of the engine. The cover was now a molten ball of burnt plastic… “Eeeeeeeee, that ain't good ” My mechanic was caught off guard as well, he peels the plastic off the exhaust in embarrassment. So this 'quick start' ended up being more of a long start and cool down.
THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT, THE PAST IS THE PAST. After a month of extreme mind chaos, the discipline was back because I simply made a decision to not go crazy about the inability to rewrite history and to be positive and continue to use the extreme amount of self-awareness time to continue to improve myself every single day. But first thing was first, I needed to get back into physical shape to make myself feel better…simply about myself. This was such a task, on a boat. The motivation and energy level to work out was one of the most challenging things I have ever encountered in my life. BUT I managed… All is good now in the life of a helicopter Pirate!
Last edited by admin on December 10, 2016, 8:42 am
Good Pilot! I can be that!
December 9, 2016 in Auto-biographical (tuna helicopters)
Good Pilot

We must first examine a balance that can make a pilot 'good.' A good balance of attributes seems to be the key. A balance that can prevent the hazardous attitudes of aviation. Except for anti-authority, a slight amount of this is required because your ship, your ultimate command decision may be needed without hesitation or at least in my opinion. I have broken it down into 3 categories with both the good and the bad.
Skill.
The Good.
Some say a good pilot is one who can 'feel' the bird. The natural, the talent. The ones who hops in and become one with the aircraft. The skill set is remarkable with some individuals. A natural coordination that matches well with the aircraft or any aircraft. A term you here “he is different. “
The Bad
Although the feeling and 'skill' can be great to watch, the decision making may be masked by a need to 'push and push the limits.' “An accident waiting to happen ” for some, while others simply utter this in jealousy. Some push too far and die while others get out of aviation completely because they think they are not good enough. With this insecurity, a tendency to put others down because of their lower skill level can occur, this is a bad place to be.
A skill set can be honed with experience but there are those that do not have to 'try.' Limits are the hardest things to learn for these individuals but humility may be just as hard to master. Typically 'growing pains' mask the humility with a lot of insecurity but extreme confidence at the same time.
Common Sense.
Like all human factors, a good balance in a person can bring in the 'common sense.' While others learn 'by pissing on the electric fence.' A balance of knowledge and experience can help bring common sense to the flight environment.
The Bad.
However, some 'high time' guys this may not be the case. The hour counters, the ones that still count their hours precisely. They put every pilot that has accomplished anything down. They look at the negative in everything, they yell “that is not standardized. ” They focus too much on politics and other social things to try to get ahead. If these individuals are put in manager positions they sometimes make poor decisions based on 'ENVY.' These ones have struggled during their hours, they fly beyond conservative, and to an extent they still get scared during a simple jolt of the wind. They can live without flying but they stay because of the 'epaulets prestige.' Flying for these envious types is a task, work, it is stressful. They truly do not enjoy it, it is a job.
For the 'natural category' the bad is lack of common sense. Simply, flying is so easy at low time that 'the need to push' is too great and results in an accident, scaring someone, or the latter. So the experience or obtaining proper experience can be a journey for some.
The good.
Good decision making comes with experience and a balance of knowledge, humility, and understanding personal and aircraft limits. It is ok to be a conservative pilot. Conversely it is also ok for 'some' to fly towards the limit as their specific job dictates the unique capabilities of an aircraft, Mr. Chuck Aaron for example.
Knowledge & Intuition = Experience.
Just like in life, what forms us as people are experiences that give us perceptual insights to learn and grow from. This is where experience is important.
Is experience hours? Sure it is, but this is not the tell-all. A skill set is built naturally and for some while it is taught with more repetition than others. However hours and how you get them is important. For some, someone that stays at the same school in the same airspace and airports to obtain the magic 1,000 hours. While a different person goes to 4 schools; flies in Class B, high altitude, over the water, and in multiple countries by the time they reach a 1,000 hours may have a much more set of unique experiences to adapt intuition.
The Bad: The Bean counter.
How many hours do you have? Someone that focuses purely on that logbook. So convinced that hours make that person a better pilot. They hold or flank their hours in insecurity over others. An insecurity of their skill set.
The Bad: The ignoring.
“Hours do not matter, look at my control I can do it! ” The overconfident individual that does not need to 'form' a skill but has to stay calm and humble until an adequate amount of experience is built, which again depends on each individual.
The Good:
The informed and self-aware pilot. Someone that has enough experience for themselves that can decipher the environment around them. The more unique situations and areas flown do aid more greatly than just 'building' hours in the familiar environment.
A good pilot researches 'all available information' and gains a keen knowledge for all that is aviation. A person whom is passionate about aviation and flying typically are consistently gaining knowledge.
The good pilot, when encountered with an unknown variable will use his knowledge and all experiences to aid in the safe maneuvering of an aircraft and proper decision making. When Captain Sully was able to put or rather glide a 767 into the Hudson River full of people without incident. He was a glider pilot, a long time airline pilot, and when an extremely rare duel flameout of engines occurred he KNEW and used his pilot intuition that saved countless lives.
Performing such extraordinary tasks in the time of need or setting records requires a balance but also the stereotype of a confident pilot is almost a certainty to push the limits just the right amount. Chuck Yeager breaking the sound barrier sitting in the X-1 rattling and shaking that inevitably had lead to the death of a few colleagues before him. For some reason, he knew and he pushed the limit just the right amount.
The Balance.
So the point of this writing is to examine mindsets that can be balanced that makes the qualities of good pilots or true aviators rather. Does this mean that you must possess all the qualities to a 'T' to be the best? No it does not. There is no best nor there ever will be 'the' best pilot. As a human and a pilot just focus on being the best person and pilot you can be. Find your balance and fly safe to your limits while managing your experience and the intuition will develop.
I am in by no means all of these but I strive to be the best I can be. Personally, I have experienced extreme growing pains in humility, balancing ego, envy, insecurity, and many of the bad aspects. It is up to me to be professional and be good to others, even if they do not do the same.
The best single piece of advice a fellow long time pilot told me is…
“Be the best person you can be and the best pilot you can be will follow ”
Last edited by admin on December 10, 2016, 8:43 am
19) Embrace the Yearning
December 9, 2016 in Steps on my Road – an Epidemic of Suicide
Steps on my Road – Stepping stones across the Stream of Life
19) Embrace the yearning
Here's a great video for you. Before you watch it, I ask you to contemplate the concept of
“The Great Spirit”. You might like to Google it, and ponder what people might mean by that term. Then, you might ponder what YOU would understand by that label.
I submit it doesn't really matter. This isn't a dictionary game. Or word knowledge. It means different things to different people. But to many of us, there is a theme you might call:
yearning
A longing for something, that we don't understand, and cannot define. And don't have to.
Relax, friend, listen to the music.
Embrace the yearning…
go back to list of possible Stepping Stones Across? 
Last edited by Francis Meyrick on December 9, 2016, 12:19 pm
Cepheus Flare
November 13, 2016 in Auto-biographical (spiritual quest)
to paraphrase an old song: “It's my birthday, and I'll rhyme if I want to.”
I scribbled a poem. I love astronomy. Seen this image? Innit awesome…
Cepheus Flare
I am old,
But Patiently,
over millions of years,
And light years wide
Without blood or tears
I grew my wings.
No-one died
Across my divide
And no-one sighed
Past dusty rings
Newly detected
So dimly reflected
By a hesitant light.
So why does Man
Only newly here
engineer
fear
Francis Meyrick
The Muslim Man
November 5, 2016 in Uncategorized
The Muslim Man
The Muslim Man exhibits qualities that are unfortunately not unique to those of his alleged 'faith', but he provides a genus that counts amongst its depraved cult, percentage wise, a surprisingly high number of utterly useless human beings. Men who, behind the veneer and camouflage of their empty, false, ritualistic 'religiosity', exhibit in copious quantities all those truly nasty aspects of human behavior, that we so utterly deplore.
Their cockroach-like lives are centered on a selfish blindness to what is noble, good and kind in humanity. Vast tracts of this troubled world have been ruthlessly ethnically cleansed by Muslims. This is a mass genocide that continues today, right under your Liberal, bleeding-heart nose. How many kinder, more gentle tribes and cultures, have thus been systematically displaced from their homes and lands of their ancestors? How many good and artistic peoples are lost to us forever, courtesy of their inability to defend themselves from the marauding hordes? To this day, the Armenian genocide, in all its unspeakable horror, is heatedly denied by Turkish politicians, who, adamantly, clamor for full and open admission to European countries. And the Yazidis, it seems, are abandoned by the West. If anybody deserves sanctuary in the USA, they do. Yet Obama's minions make sure we see none arrive on these shores.
Whilst it is important to recognize that there are many good Muslims, who have found their path to a universal love of Man, it has to be self evident that such a happy circumstance has occurred despite the fundamental teachings of their absurd written dogma. Their numbers, far too small to effectively lobby for a much needed Muslim Reformation, are further hindered by the legitimate fear of violent retribution from the all powerful extremist (or fundamentalist) elements. Dissenters risk the hysterical Muslim lynch mob, which is itself not driven by the slightest trace of compassion. Rather, we see the rabid mob efficiently at work, baying for blood, exhorting one another to suppress any and all dissent. It is the pack at work, persistently dragging Man back to the bloody, misogynistic, pedophile & unspeakable cruel 7th century.
Man, we say, has no shortage of those whose purpose in Life seems to be only to f**k, sh*t, covet, grasp, steal, destroy, procreate and die. They have no dreams of substance. Their spiritual life, although much vaunted and loudly proclaimed, is actually unutterably dead. Their I.Q. and emotional maturity lead us to much prefer the steadfast company of Nature.
So what of the future? Despite the lavish gifts that Science and Technology have bestowed upon us, we forecast the steady, slithering slide towards the edge of the gaping abyss. Admit it. Face it. Far below await granite rocks, waiting to pulverize the bodies of Wisdom and Patience, Compassion and Modernity. Not to mention the bodies of Western Christians naïve enough to blindly ignore what has been done, and continues to be done, elsewhere in this blighted world, in the name of little Mo Hamed, the pedophile rapist, who helped craft one of the most successful mass con tricks ever. Muslim ideology, a cobbled together faux religion, a sick cult, claiming absurd historical impossibilities, has spent 1400 years murdering, deceiving, infiltrating and subjugating, and they have refined the technique to an Art form. They will breed as fast as humanly possible, with as many voiceless, downtrodden wives as possible, despite any consideration of the cost to host nation taxpayers (whom they routinely fleece on an industrial scale), and despite any consideration for the increasing scarcity of land, air, water and energy. The term 'cockroaches' used above is wholly apt, and barely begins to describe the utterly detrimental impact they have on their gullible 'host nations'. If Hillary Clinton is elected, I have no doubt that the floodgates will be opened to anybody and everybody. The US borders will effectively cease to exist. This nation will be transformed, cynically and deliberately, into a one party fiefdom, a hereditary vassal state of the Clinton Mafia, enabled by their established hangers on and political donors.
Hillary Clinton is utterly corrupt. Her system is utterly corrupt. Her motivation is entirely egotistical, and the tragedy is that still too many voters -stunningly- STILL trust this harridan. If you thought Obama was bad, with his love of “Executive Orders “, then rest assured his forays into defying Congress constituted merely a trial run. To elect Hillary Clinton is to invite the concentration of power in the hands of a manifestly unworthy individual, who will relish her new found powers and USE them to the full. It will change America fundamentally, and very much for the worse. Democrats have already tried to sneak in provisions that would lead to criminalizing criticism of Islam. We don't doubt they would persevere in this misguided and un-American policy. Do you remember who it was who said:
“Muslims are peaceful and tolerant people, who have nothing what-so-ever to do with terrorism. “
If you do NOT remember, I pity you.
If you cannot see what Angela Merkel has insanely done to Germany and Europe, if you cannot see what is happening in Sweden and elsewhere, where we have seen the transformation of a peaceful country into the strife torn rape capital of the world, if you cannot and WILL not entertain the thought that Hillary Clinton will do the same to the USA, then, truly, I pity your naivety and gullibility. If you elect her, live with the consequences.
They will be, in a word, calamitous.
Francis Meyrick
Last edited by Francis Meyrick on November 5, 2016, 4:07 pm



