Other Worlds: The Turner Diaries. Chapter 23 A Puke (TM) Audiobook

Other Worlds: The Turner Diaries. Chapter 23 A Puke (TM) AudiobookShow more

Chapter Twenty Three.

August 1, 1993. Today has been the Day of the Rope-a grim and
bloody day, but an unavoidable one. Tonight, for the first time in
weeks, it is quiet and totally peaceful throughout all of southern
California. But the night is filled with silent horrors; from tens of
thousands of lampposts, power poles, and trees throughout this
vast metropolitan area the grisly forms hang.
In the lighted areas one sees them everywhere. Even the street
signs at intersections have been pressed into service, and at
practically every street corner I passed this evening on my way to
HQ there was a dangling corpse, four at every intersection.
Hanging from a single overpass only about a mile from here is a
group of about 30, each with an identical placard around its neck
bearing the printed legend, "I betrayed my race." Two or three of
that group had been decked out in academic robes before they were
strung up, and the whole batch are apparently faculty members
from the nearby UCLA campus.
In the areas to which we have not yet restored electrical power the
corpses are less visible, but the feeling of horror in the air there is
even worse than in the lighted areas. I had to walk through a two-
block-long, unlighted residential section between HQ and my
living quarters after our unit meeting tonight. In the middle of one
of the unlighted blocks I saw what appeared to be a person
standing on the sidewalk directly in front of me. As I approached
the silent figure, whose features were hidden in the shadow of a
large tree overhanging the sidewalk, it remained motionless,
blocking my way.
Feeling some apprehension, I slipped my pistol out of its holster.
Then, when I was within a dozen feet of the figure, which had been
facing away from me, it began turning slowly toward me. There
was something indescribably eerie about the movement, and I
stopped in my tracks as the figure continued to turn.

A slight breeze rustled the foliage overhead, and suddenly a beam of
moonlight broke through the leaves and fell directly on the silently
turning shape before me.
The first thing I saw in the moonlight was the placard with its
legend in large, block letters: "I defiled my race." Above the
placard leered the horribly bloated, purplish face of a young
woman, her eyes wide open and bulging, her mouth agape. Finally
I could make out the thin, vertical line of rope disappearing into
the branches above. Apparently the rope had slipped a bit or the
branch to which it was tied had sagged, until the woman's feet
were resting on the pavement, giving the uncanny appearance of a
corpse standing upright of its own volition.
I shuddered and quickly went on my way. There are many
thousands of hanging female corpses like that in this city tonight,
all wearing identical placards around their necks. They are the
White women who were married to or living with Blacks, with
Jews, or with other non-White males.
There are also a number of men wearing the I-defiled-my-race
placard, but the women easily outnumber them seven or eight to
one. On the other hand, about ninety per cent of the corpses with
the I-betrayed-my-race placards are men, and overall the sexes
seem to be roughly balanced.
Those wearing the latter placards are the politicians, the lawyers,
the businessmen, the TV newscasters, the newspaper reporters and
editors, the judges, the teachers, the school officials, the "civic
leaders," the bureaucrats, the preachers, and all the others who, for
reasons of career or status or votes or whatever, helped promote or
implement the System's racial program. The System had already
paid them their 30 pieces of silver. Today we paid them.
It started at three o'clock this morning.

Yesterday was an especially bad day of rioting, with the Jews using transistorized
megaphones to whip up the crowds and egg them into throwing
stones and bottles at our troops. They were chanting "racism must
go" and "equality forever" and other slogans the Jews had taught
them. It reminded me of the mass demonstrations of the Vietnam era.
The Jews have a knack for things like that.
But by three o'clock this morning the crowds had long since
finished their orgy of violence and chanting and were in bed-all
except a few groups of diehards who had rigged up loudspeakers
and were blaring System radio broadcasts out over the surrounding
neighborhoods, broadcasts which alternated between screaming
rock "music" and appeals for "brotherhood."
Squads of our troops with synchronized watches suddenly
appeared in a thousand blocks at once, in fifty different residential
neighborhoods, and every squad leader had a long list of names
and addresses. The blaring music suddenly stopped and was
replaced by the sound of thousands of doors splintering, as booted
feet kicked them open.
It was like the Gun Raids of four years ago, only in reverse- and
the outcome was both more drastic and more permanent for those
raided. One of two things happened to those the troops dragged out
onto the streets. If they were non-Whites-and that included all the
Jews and everyone who even looked like he had a bit of non-White
ancestry - they were shoved into hastily formed columns and
started on their no-return march to the canyon in the foothills north
of the city. The slightest resistance, any attempt at back talk, or any
lagging brought a swift bullet.
The Whites, on the other hand, were, in nearly all cases, hanged
on the spot. One of the two types of pre-printed placards was hung
on the victim's chest, his hands were quickly taped behind his
back, a rope was thrown over a convenient limb or signpost with
the other end knotted around his neck, and he was then hauled
clear of the ground with no further ado and left dancing on air
while the soldiers went to the next name on their list.

The hangings and the formation of the death columns went on for
about 10 hours without interruption. When the troops finished their
grim work early this afternoon and began returning to their
barracks, the Los Angeles area was utterly and completely
pacified. The residents of neighborhoods in which we could
venture safely only in a tank yesterday were trembling behind
closed doors today, afraid even to be seen peering through the
crack in drawn drapes. Throughout the morning there was no
organized or large-scale opposition to our troops, and by this
afternoon even the desire for opposition had evaporated.
I and my men were in the thick of things all day, mostly handling
logistics. When the execution squads began running out of rope,
we stripped several miles of wire from power poles to use in its
place. We also rounded up hundreds of ladders.
And we were the ones who pasted up the proclamations from
Revolutionary Command in each block, warning all citizens that
henceforth any act of looting, rioting, or sabotage, or any failure to
obey the command of a soldier, will result in the summary
execution of the offender. The proclamations also carry a similar
warning for anyone who knowingly harbors a Jew or other non-
White or who willfully provides false information to or withholds
information from our police units. Finally, they list the reporting
point in each neighborhood to which every person, at a time and
date depending upon the position of his name in the alphabet, is to
report for registration and assignment to a work unit.
I nearly got into a shooting fight with a company commander
near City Hall this morning about nine o'clock. That's where we
were taking all the big shots to be hanged: the well-known
politicians, a number of prominent Hollywood actors and actresses,
and several TV personalities. If we had strung them up in front of
their homes like everyone else, only a few people would have seen
them, and we wanted their example to be instructive to a much
wider audience.

For the same reason many of the priests on our
lists were taken to one of three large churches where we had TV
crews set up to broadcast their executions.
The trouble was that many of the big shots were arriving at City
Hall already more dead than alive. The troops on the transport
trucks were really giving them a working over.
One famous actress, a notorious race-mixer who had starred in
several large-budget, interracial "love" epics, had lost most of her
hair, an eye, and several teeth-not to mention all her clothes-before
the rope was put around her neck. She was a bruised and bloody
mess. I wouldn't have known who she was if I hadn't asked. What,
I wondered, was the point in publicly hanging her if the public
couldn't recognize her and draw the a proper inferences between
her former behavior and her punishment?
I was drawn to a commotion near one of the trucks which had just
arrived. A grossly fat old man, whom I immediately recognized as
the Federal judge who had handed down some of the System's
most outrageous rulings in recent years-including the one
confirming the power of arrest granted by the Human Relations
Councils to their Black deputies-was resisting the efforts of the
troops to pull off his pajamas and dress him in his judicial robe.
One of the soldiers knocked him down, and then four others
began kicking him and repeatedly slamming him in the face,
stomach, and groin with their rifle butts. He was unconscious, and
perhaps already dead, when the rope was knotted around his neck
and his limp figure was hauled about halfway up a lamppost. A TV
cameraman was recording the whole scene and broadcasting it live.
I was thoroughly disgusted by this latter incident and by several
others of a similar nature, and I sought out the officer in charge of
the troops there to lodge my complaint. I asked him why he wasn't
maintaining proper discipline among his men, and I told him in
strong terms that the beatings of the prisoners were
counterproductive.

We must maintain a public image of strength and
uncompromising ruthlessness in dealing with the enemies of our
race, but to behave like a gang of Ugandans or Puerto Ricans
hardly accomplishes that. (Note to the reader: Uganda was a
political subdivision of the continent of Africa during the Old Era,
when that continent was inhabited by the Negro race. Puerto Rico
was the Old Era name of the island of New Carolina. It is occupied
now by the descendants of White refugees from radioactive areas
of the southeastern United States, but before the race purges in the
final days of the Great Revolution it was inhabited by a mongrel
race of especially unsavory character.) Above all else we must show
ourselves as disciplined, since we will be demanding strict
discipline on the part of the civilian population. We must never
give vent to our feelings of frustration or our personal hatreds but
must show by our behavior at all times that what we are doing is
serving a higher purpose.
The captain exploded. He shouted at me to mind my own
business. When I insisted that I was minding my business, he
became red with anger and said that he, not 1, was the one who had
the responsibility and that he was doing the best he could under
very difficult circumstances.
He pointed out correctly that the Organization had replaced
nearly half the men in his company with untrained newcomers in
the last month, and so it shouldn't be surprising to me that
discipline wasn't all it might be. He also told me that he knew
enough about the psychology of his men to understand the value of
letting them beat the prisoners as a way of justifying to themselves
that the prisoners were their enemies and deserved to be hanged.
I really couldn't counter either of the captain's arguments, but I
did note with some satisfaction that when he turned away from me
he strode angrily over to a group of soldiers who were brutally
pistol-whipping a long-haired, effeminate-looking youth in an
outlandishly "mod" getup-a popular "rock" performer- and ordered
them to stop.

Upon thinking about it, I have come to see things more from the
captain's viewpoint. Of course, we must tighten up discipline a
great deal as soon as we can, but for the moment it is better for us
to have more political reliability and less discipline among the
troops. We delayed our crackdown on the civilian population as
long as we did just so we could weed out and disarm the
questionable GI's and replace them with the new people who've
been coming through the enemy lines to us.
Also, we wanted time to accustom the troops to the new order of things
here and to give them at least a little ideological preparation
for today's work. And we purposely let the civilians get more out
of control than we might have, just so we would have a manifest
excuse for taking thoroughly radical measures instead of half-
measures, which could not have solved the civilian problem in the
long run.
One other reason for the delay I learned today was that we needed
time to finish compiling our arrest lists. For several years
Organization members here, just as in other parts of the country,
have been building their dossiers of System toadies, Jew-fawners,
equalitarian theorists, and other White racecriminals, along with
their street directories of all non-Whites residing in predominantly
White areas.
We were able to use the latter, which were kept quite up to date
even during the last month, without modification. But the dossiers
required a huge amount of evaluation and weeding. In the first
place there were far too many of them.
For example, a White family might have a dossier as
racecriminals because a neighbor had once observed a Black
attending a cocktail party at their home or because they displayed
one of the "Equality Now" bumper stickers, which have been
distributed so widely by the Human Relations Councils. In general,
unless there was also other evidence in a particular dossier, these
people were not put on the arrest list. Otherwise, we'd have had to
hang better than 10 per cent of the White population-an entirely
impractical task.

And even if we could hang that many people, there would be no
good reason for it; most of that 10 per cent are really no worse than
most of the other 90 per cent. They have been brainwashed; they
are weak and selfish; they have no sense of racial loyalty-but the
same things are true of most people these days. People are what
they have become, and we have to accept that-as a starting point.
Actually, it has been true all through history that only small
portions of a population are either good or evil. The great bulk are
morally neutral-incapable of distinguishing absolute right from
absolute wrong-and they take their cue from whoever is on top at
the moment.
When good men are the rulers and the program-makers for a
society, the population as a whole will reflect this, and people with
no originality or moral sense of direction of their own will
nevertheless fervently support the highest aims of their society.
But when evil men rule, as has been the case in America for many
years now, most of the population will wallow happily in
degeneracy of the worst kind and will self-righteously parrot every
filthy and destructive idea that they have been taught.
Most judges today, most teachers, actors, civic figures, etc., are
not being consciously and deliberately evil, or even cynical, in
following the lead of the Jews. They think of themselves as being
"good citizens," just as they would think of themselves if they were
acting in a diametrically opposite way under the influence of good
leaders.
Thus, there is no point in killing them all. This moral weakness
will have to be bred out of the race over hundreds of generations.
For now it is sufficient for us to eliminate the consciously evil
portion of the population-plus a few hundred thousand of our
morally crippled "good citizens" across the country, as an example
to the rest.

The hanging of a few of the worst race-criminals in every
neighborhood in America will help enormously in straightening
out the majority of the population and reorienting their thinking. In
fact, it will not only help, but it is absolutely necessary. The people
require a strong psychological shock to break old habits of thought.
I understand all this, yet I must admit that I was troubled by some
of the things I witnessed today.
When the arrests first started the public didn't realize what was coming,
and many citizens were cocky and abusive. I was present
shortly before dawn when the soldiers dragged about a dozen
young people out of a large house near one of the university
campuses, and they, as well as their housemates who were not
arrested, were screaming obscenities at our men and spitting on
them. All but one of those arrested here were either Jews, Blacks,
or mongrels of various sorts, and two of the loudest of them were
immediately shot, while the others were herded into a marching
column.
The last was a White girl, about 19, a bit flabby but still pretty.
The shootings had calmed her down enough so that she was no
longer screaming, "Racist pigs!" at the soldiers, but when the
preparations for her hanging shortly thereafter awakened her to her
own fate, she became hysterical. Informed that she was about to
pay the price for defiling her race by living with a Black lover, the
girl wailed, "But why me?"
As the rope was knotted around her neck, she blubbered out, "I
was only doing what everyone else was. Why are you picking on
me? It's not fair! What about Helen? She was sleeping with him
too." At this last outcry before the girl's breath was cut off forever,
one of the other girls (presumably Helen) in the group of now-
silent spectators on the lawn shrank back in terror.
Of course, no one answered the girl's question, "Why me?" The
answer is simply that her name happened to be on our list and
Helen's didn't. There's nothing "fair" about that-or unfair either.

The girl who was hanged deserved what she got. Helen probably
deserves the same fate-and she is undoubtedly suffering the
torments of the damned now, in fear that she eventually will be
found out and forced to pay the price her friend did.
This little episode has taught me something about political terror.
Its very arbitrariness and unpredictability are important aspects of
its effectiveness. There are a great many people in Helen's
situation, whose fear that lightning may strike them at any moment
will keep them walking on eggs.
The melancholy aspect of the episode is epitomized in the girl's lament,
"I was only doing what everyone else was." That is a bit of
an exaggeration, but it is true enough that had others not set a bad
example for her the girl probably would not have become a race-
criminal. She paid as much for the sins of others as for her own.
Now I realize more than ever before how essential it is that we
instill in all our people a new moral basis, a new set of
fundamental values, so that they will no longer be morally adrift
like that unfortunate girl was-and like the great majority of
Americans today are.
This total lack of any healthy or natural morality was brought
home to me again just before noon. We were hanging a group of
about 40 land developers and real estate brokers outside the offices
of the Los Angeles County Fair Housing Association. They had all
participated in a special program which made lower mortgage rates
available for racially mixed families buying homes in
predominantly White neighborhoods. One of the realtors was a
sturdy, handsome fellow of about 35 with a blond crew cut. He
was vehemently defending himself: "Hell, I never agreed with any
of this race-mixing crap. It makes me sick to my stomach to see
these mixed families with their mongrel brats. But a man has to
earn a living. I was told by the head building inspector in the
county that it would be a lot easier to avoid building-code
violations for those realtors who went along with the special
mortgage program."

Without realizing it, he was telling us that a bigger income came
before racial loyalty in his set of values-something which is
unfortunately true also of a great many who were not hanged
today. Well, he made his choice freely, and he hardly deserves any
sympathy.
The soldiers didn't argue with him, of course. When his turn
came, he was jerked off his feet with the same impartiality they
had shown toward those who had accepted their fate in silence.
They were under orders not to argue with anyone or to explain
anything, except a brief statement of the offense for which a person
was being hanged. Not even the most convincing protestations of
innocence or that "there must be some mistake" caused them to
hesitate for an instant. Certainly, we must have made some
mistakes today - mistaken identities, wrong addresses, false
accusations-but once the executions began there was no admitting
to the possibility of mistakes. We deliberately created the image of
inexorability in the public mind.
And apparently we were quite convincing. Our execution squads
were hardly back in their barracks this afternoon when we began
receiving reports from all over the city of what appeared to be a
sudden wave of murders and beatings. Corpses, most of them
showing stab wounds, were being found on sidewalks, in alleys,
and in apartment-building hallways. A number of injured persons-
several hundred altogether-were also picked up on the streets by
our patrols.
Although there were a few Blacks among these beating and
stabbing victims, we quickly determined that the great majority of
them were Jews. All apparently were persons whom our execution
squads had missed, but the citizenry had not.
Questioning of several Jews who had been beaten soon revealed
that at least some of them had been hiding with Gentile families.

After our proclamations were posted, however, their protectors
turned on them and drove them into the streets. Local vigilante
groups armed with knives and clubs had ferreted out others who
had not even been on our lists.
I am sure that, without the forceful lesson of this Day of the
Rope, we would not have so quickly elicited this sort of citizen
cooperation. The hangings have helped everyone get off the fence
in a hurry.
Tomorrow afternoon some of my men will begin organizing
civilian labor battalions to cut down the corpses and haul them to
the disposal site I have already picked. It'll probably take three or
four days to remove all the bodies-there are between 55 and 60
thousand of them-and in this hot weather it'll be quite unpleasant toward the end.
But what a feeling of relief it is to finally have all the negative
part of our task here finished! From now on it's all uphill-in the
good sense: reorganizing, re-educating, and rebuilding this whole
society.