The weather held as a number of individuals arrived in Birmingham, as arranged the group split, a local lad meeting up with us at a market, There was not much activity, the place heaved, ethnics were everywhere and the Jesus Army were in town, one of their preachers extolled the virtues of Jesus Christ, as a disaffected public walked past, one member of the public remarked to us that, “if he mentions Jesus one more time”, we smiled and walked on. Ah this place, once the home of whites, now corrupted, seemingly beyond repair, memories flooded, nights at the ship, the early days of blood and honour, direct action and not a red to be seen.
This market indeed had seen its share of booted feet, as Negroes had been kept at bay and Asians dominated no-where, today it all looked so different, miscegenation seemed the order of the day, as Negroes strode with unashamed white girls and not a word was said. As ever, should neither or either catch my eye they know, even today one cannot give in; it had all gone you know the market of memory, no longer the same, a new skyline for a new people.
Oh there were whites but my god, ethnics buzzed everywhere, how long could these poor people hold out against this ethnic cleansing, against this tide of others, I walked in what is known as the rag-market, here once, one could buy their “docs” or any number of patriotic badges, flags, whatever, today nothing, stalls sold tat and many were tailored solely to an ethnic clientele. It had never been much, today it was less, rags and rubbish, the out-door market nothing too, atmosphere gone and fetid creeping corruption tainted the air, it would not be long I surmised until all was given over to the non-white.
We walked towards the bull-ring, not a market now really but a mall, useless and the same as countless others, just another cathedral to the new religion, as we walked towards this place of pilgrimage “TW’s” phone went off, apparently there was no-one at “the Bull”, save for a few police-officers and shoppers. This did not look too good for a demonstration, a demonstration that was to begin quite soon, it was decided during the call, to begin taking pictures, as unobtrusively as possible, from both entry points.
We knew now that the police had riot vans in attendance and we had been informed that three vans contained fully kitted riot officers, the militia were ready to prevent the people’s voice, crushing them if possible. It would seem that any others can call for slaughter, can use their voice against us but we, the indigenous of these isles cannot. It always amazes me, that many of those that attack or harangue rightists are white themselves and we, through our actions speak in their name and that of their children, strange therefore that they employ such terrible means, stranger still, that slowly the police are becoming the peoples enemy, when the right never considered them so and in fact traditionally supported them.
Today of course, we realise that those that enforce tyranny, are in fact a part of it, whilst the left do it ideologically, we do it now because you give us no choice, surely you must know that we present no threat, that our ideals are natural and that current orthodoxy is unfair, unjust and indeed unworkable, still I digress. As you will see from the pictures it was impossible to know of the riot vans, from our angle there was but three officers central, whilst others hovered some distance away. Later we were to notice a further four or five vans parked to our immediate left, although it was impossible for any of us to determine strength, were they occupied etcetera and so forth and by whom. Scanning the area we noticed one of our own, although not an independent nationalist, mutually recognised a curt nod was given, we moved on, at this point we split up, it is always better to resist clumping, a small target is harder to see, the others were text to “slowly” approach the area, although on reply they were unable to do so until build-up, they told us that they had entered a shop in an endeavour to gain an elevated view.
Slowly a crowd built up, attracted as bees to pollen by the presence of the police, a presence that had grown markedly as three o’clock approached, alone now I mingled with the crowd, not spotting “TW” Jay or any of the others, I reasoned that a large demonstration may not be anticipated by the presence of CSO’s, rather than seasoned officers, although this was offset by the knowledge imparted by Jay previously. It seemed as if the crowd could sense trouble, as if as animals they knew, numbers swelled making our job even easier.
Soon from my position in the crowd I sensed it, the mass turning of heads in a given direction, then we heard it, massed voices ,the game was afoot, hi-viz-coated officers formed a barrier, I almost in the centre was told to step behind the cordon, as I did so my phone vibrated, I ignored it. They came, perhaps 20, perhaps 25 surely no more, there were no banners, no flags, having attended such things before I reasoned that perhaps they had faced the obligatory search, information gathering and been advised not to brandish such items.
It looked to me like a firm, they operated like one, a small group chanting, police some running raced to form a line and one should imagine to prevent others from joining the demonstration, there were many I spotted within the crowd. The group were escorted into a pen formed by the bodies of police-officers and prevented from moving, towards the back of the crowd a mob of ethnics formed. No police officers formed a cordon around them no officer warned them about their chanting, the same could not be said for the demonstrators.
Hemmed in, surrounded and painfully out-numbered, the police had the upper hand, I reasoned that perhaps as with nationalists, individuals and small groups had been detained or turned back, surely more should’ve fielded. I edged through the crowd, slowly again towards the front. Immediately in the centre of things I witnessed a protestor pushed over purposely by a police-officer, the police coiled springs waiting to see if their provocation had desired effect, towards the back of the crowd true nationalists waited, now a contingent in itself, firming up, ready I suppose for the off.
Many of the protestors were casuals, young surprisingly, I hoped that they would realise the extent of the trouble we are in and not just opt for anti-Islamic rhetoric, we need our freedom in every sense. A flag was unfurled, red-cross on white background, so exploited by football and evil, it fluttered above the protestors, chants began, football-like, the ethnic mob grew in number, no police moved to that position, no law enforcement for them. The chant of “we want our country back” rang out having little effect upon the assembled crowd, my phone went off again, I sank back into the crowd, retrieving my phone, the first message read simply “reds”.
We knew they’d come, they always do and we will always oppose them in whatever way it takes, on this occasion in conversation we had wondered and as filth they oozed amongst the crowd ,the second text read, “where are you?”. I replied back lamenting the suns glare, yet speech was impossible so a text would have to do, as one the protestors turned to the assembled ethnic mob and “who are ya!!” rang out, in reply to their provocation. I was advised with directions to travel towards the enemy, “TW” had done what he had came to do, sniff out evil, not merely that of ethnics they are always defined but that of others, I followed directions, joining the crowd directly behind their reported position.
Already I spotted a familiar face, the same police officer filming as he always does, any and all such events, I put my head down, turned about and circumvented the prying eyes of his lens, although many cameras tracked my movements, of course he himself doesn’t like being filmed, as a lovely lady once proved, By tortuous route I found them, just before “Nazi scum off our streets!!”, echoed amongst the towering buildings, I smiled to myself counted their number and looked for their choir-master.
I found him just as my phone, now in my hands went off,”four this side, one heading your way, left, you?” I looked to my left and spotted him, as he slithered amongst the crowd, not out of place at all amongst the casuals now shouted down, by a baying crowd. Directly in front, the choir-master spoke again to his Asian underling and “Nazi scum off our streets” again rang out, the leftist joined his cohorts, to look at him, he looks more right than left, sporting short hair, checked shirt and stocky build, he lifted his arm with the others as they disparaged the assailed protestors.
As I had moved through the crowd I sensed ironically enough an unseen barrier, from my original position, on the left the choirmaster directed and on the right the people felt empathy for the protestors. As I moved towards the left ,the ethnics and all, a cheer rose up amongst the crowd, a cheer as a home made banner was unfurled “no to Muslim extremism”, again claps as a small banner was held aloft, “No to Sharia”, I moved from warm agreement, to that other place in the crowd, cold hate.
Choirmasters always have security, always direct protected, alone they cry, I kid you not, shiver and shake, bewail and moan, run trembling from righteous anger, they are evil personified ,they hoodwink the young, baffle the disillusioned and augment ethnic discontent, if any enemy the left, if any battle to fight. I have fought the left now some twenty-five years, I know the true enemy I would hope that others do to, whatever it takes.
In front some twenty (ish) ethnics predominantly Southern Asian, although with a large assortment of Negroes, coupled with this, this was not the only assemblage other groups had formed amongst the crowd, although this was by far the most vocal and can any wonder, whilst amongst it a maggot held court. For those nu-nationalists, those that follow this new creed, it is of some import, I believe this particular vermin released the members list online, savouring every moment in doing so, baiting you all.
My details were amongst that and that of friends, quite a slimy individual, you can see from the photos I shot and such a big-nose, what a wonder, for all his talk, for all his bluster, he released the list for ideological reasons, quite simply because the right is an enemy, upon his right arm he carries a tattoo, a tattoo of a red-star, although from the photos it is hard to make out. He stood surrounded by reds, most young as is their way and he directed the chanting, I had arrived just a second before the first chants of, “Nazi scum off our streets!!” had occurred, arrived with enough time to witness him talk to a south Asian, who in turn spoke to another and soon the chant was taken up.
Its really quite ironic, that those Muslims, those misinformed individuals, worked earnestly for those that would see religion fall, that would enslave any and all peoples, releasing them only for death. The protestors only, as they said, “want our country back”, yet the left want to destroy all countries, all peoples, all cultures, I edged closer, a silent camera clicking away, evil a hair's-breadth from retribution.
Again such a big-nose, “do all choirmasters have such a big-nose, I wondered”, in my experience they do, perhaps air is free and they need advanced nostrils for such an intake. In any event, as I moved closer, a ripple passed through the crowd, a wave as the protestors fought to get at the assembled ethnics, as they fought to attack the enemy, the choirmaster had done his job, the police held the line, diving upon a wayward protestor, the ethnics laughed ,the law protected them.
The choirmaster looked disappointed, perhaps he had expected more, “surely a few heads could’ve been cracked” he must of reasoned, still unease snaked its way amongst the crowd, I looked to the back and nationalists moved slowly forward, sensing impending danger. I looked to the bobbies and saw fear, one had run headlong away, cheered by the crowd, one by one the ethnics fell silent, a few backed slowly out of the crowd, a strange scene as whites moved forward and non-whites moved out, a sort of white-flight in reverse.
In front the choirmaster looked troubled, somewhat edgy, for certain he was unsafe, if the volcano erupted I knew he would fall, he looked around in fear, in front some officers huddled, men strode forward through the crowd, not just nationalists now but white. Suddenly to boo’s from the crowd, riot vans entered the scene, those vans mentioned earlier on now came into play. The white dominated section of the crowd moved forward, the police as one turned upon the protestors, to my immediate left two nationalists fought their way forward to no avail, the left had noticed me.
A leftist in a clash t-shirt, cap atop head endeavoured to face me down, I moved towards him, I was made-out, I placed the phone into my pocket and proceeded forward, as I did so the phone vibrated and a police-van appeared at my back. It trundled sirens blaring through the crowd blocking my view of the enemy. After it passed there was no t-shirt clad leftist to be seen, the choirmaster hurried through the crowd anxious to be away, escorted by two “helpers”, the others had melted into the crowd; too late I had their picture.
Some of the protestors ran, ran at speed away from the pursuing police, the remaining officers turned towards the people ,turned to meet their advance, I turned towards the choirmaster hurrying quickly away, carrying a case and a heart of pure evil. A voice hailed me through the din it was Jay, “right” I said, Jay to advanced towards the enemy, oh how they hurried, the choirmaster knew I was there, feared for his safety and those two were not it, as I followed a voice said, “there you ,,,.. ,are!!” “TW” joined the chase.
We were caught in the crowd and the left raced ahead, “We’ll never catch em now” said “TW”, as I approached New Street station my heart sank, row upon row of police vans a hurrying choirmaster accompanied by two silly boys, another time then, there is always time to challenge the left. Many of the protestors descended on a pub, surrounded then and kept at bay, police barring the door and vans upon the street, a bad day for them I feel, yet we had come to find and confront evil and that must never end.
I believe another protest is planned or so I hear on the grapevine, may I suggest a multi-faceted approach, may I suggest entering from different directions simultaneously, may I suggest using a number of different train stations and indeed public transport options, although I hear coach firms may do well. I am glad to report that overt nu-nationalism did not raise its head; I have to say that true nationalism made a show, to evaluate perchance, pro-Israel advocates, those who purport to be nationalists yet are not, were poorly represented, although local activists, those that follow real nationalism yet operate under another banner attended unofficially.
Of course, I am not given to the rather stupid so-called anti-racist aspirations of this group and as they will be aware, they will be tagged as such in any event, just as the BNP are tagged as racist, please remember that any and all dissent against current orthodoxy is by definition racism, welcome to my world, not nice is it. Our country our continent is under attack by all comers, not just Islam, non-whites swarm here to rob our children’s birthright, lets not mince words here, pretend it is some clash of civilisations, that should Islam depart we are free.
Islam is but a symptom of our plight but it is not our plight, whilst you rush to claim your non-racist credentials remember this true nationalism does not hate the non-white, holds and has no desires upon their nations or assets, should a Muslim, Sikh or any other reside in their country, then there is no problem, no hate, yet as any invader, should you come here to rob us and our children, then we must contest you, not from hatred but from commonsense. I would advise all true nationalists to keep an eye upon events, perhaps common-ground may be reached ,certainly the BNP will do nothing ,advocate nothing as is their way. 14
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