Nothing More Dangerous Than Personal Initiative If It Has Genius Behind It
Moving beyond the world of words and countless fleeting rallies
Two years ago, I started writing Odysseus Unsheathed. I started writing it because I had become clear-pilled.
Here's what I mean by “clear-pilled:”
In The Red Terror in Russia 1918-1923, Serge Melgunov describes a warm summer evening in a Moscow prison. He was a “privileged prisoner” (i.e., had important and powerful connections) and was sitting alone in the prison courtyard. From one wing of the prison came the sound of singing—boisterous Russian folk songs—and laughter. The prison administration, for some special occasion, had hired a comedian to come in and entertain the prisoners. That wing, Melgunov notes, was where they held the prisoners who were communists.
At that time in Russia, the label “communist” had the same meaning the label “neocon” has for us today in the US. It was a euphemism for “Jew.”
The singing and laughter wafted across the prison yard and through the open windows of the rest of the prison, which was full, but silent. Melgunov happened to glance up at the dark window of the “room of souls”—the room where those who were about to be executed were stripped naked, lashed together back-to-back with wire by the wrists, and held as they waited to be loaded onto trucks and taken to the killing ground. A small group would be taken away. Then the truck would return empty for the next small group. Twenty-eight human beings were scheduled for execution by firing squad that night.
Melgunov writes: if only you could know the horror of it.
So, on that warm summer evening, as the singing and laughter flowed across the prison yard and through the open window into the room where the condemned waited—pouring like acid into already tortured souls, Melgunov glanced up and there, at the window, he saw “writhed lips through the bars gulping the night air.”
That is a searing image.
Being clear-pilled is looking directly at that searing image and making the conscious decision to know the horror of it. It is a religious act.
The clear-pilled look at the whole picture, no matter how searing, without flinching. We learn the whole truth: who those murderers were, their murderous role throughout history, their murderous control of the West today, and their murderous intent towards us and the whole world. The clear-pilled are able to act; we can’t do otherwise.
So, I was clear-pilled, finally, after too many years trying to look away, and I began publishing Odysseus Unsheathed.1 As my goal was to clear-pill others, I promised from the start that the content I published would always be free.
How has it worked out?
From my point of view, given my goal of clear-pilling others, my effort is worthwhile.
Regular readers know that I often draw parallels between the position the Russians found themselves in between the February and October revolutions of 1917 and the position we in the US find ourselves in today.
From an article in the June 17, 1917 issue—roughly midpoint between the two revolutions—of Russian Freedom:
Right in front of our eyes, antisemitism, in its most primitive form … re-arises and spreads…. Just listen to the conversations in the streetcars or checkout lines, or at the countless fleeting rallies at every corner and crossroad … they accuse the Jews of political stranglehold, of seizing parties and soviets, and even of ruining the army … of looting and hoarding goods.2
Note that, in the article just quoted, the accusations against the Jews were made by the common people, who, clearly, with their “countless fleeting rallies at every corner and crossroad,” were attempting in great confusion and urgency to organize some sort of resistance to the Jewish takeover. But those in positions of influence—e.g., newspaper editors—who should have served—who could have served—in organizing roles, instead attacked their own people for their “antisemitism.” And this, despite the fact that the accusations being made were true.
How familiar that sounds…
Within the year after the publication of that article in Russian Freedom, the machinery of death, as described above by Melgunov, was in full swing. The mass extermination of Russian gentiles by then underway fell heavily on the common people, whether they had spoken the truth in the breadlines or not. But it fell much more heavily on the gentile ruling class who had disgracefully called them “antisemites.”3
And so, Russia, with its people, tumbled into the abyss—the abyss toward which we ourselves now race.
It is clear in The Protocols, which surfaced some 20 years before Russia succumbed, that the Elders of Zion—i.e., the managers of Russia’s destruction—felt nearly invincible in their power. However, in The Protocols, they do recognize two vulnerabilities—one on a global level, one on the level of individuals. They express them both, along with the correctives applied, in Protocol #5.4
On the global level:
For a time perhaps we might be successfully dealt with by a coalition of the goyim of all the world: but from this danger we are secured by the discord existing among them whose roots are so deeply seated that they can never now be plucked up. We have set one against another the personal and national reckonings of the goyim, religious and race hatreds, which we have fostered into a huge growth in the course of the past twenty centuries This is the reason why there is not one State which would anywhere receive support if it were to raise its arm, for every one of them must bear in mind that any agreement against us would be unprofitable to itself. We are too strong—there is no evading our power. The nations can not come to even an inconsiderable private agreement without our secretly having a hand in it.
And, on the individual level:
There is nothing more dangerous than personal initiative; if it has genius behind it, such initiative can do more than can be done by millions of people among whom we have sown discord. We must so direct the education of the goyim communities that whenever they come upon a matter requiring initiative they may drop their hands in despairing impotence.
I must have missed that day in school, because I’ve never been one to drop my hands in despairing impotence. Back in the 1990s, when I recognized the disastrous consequences of US immigration policy, I took the initiative and, at my own expense, put up billboards in New York City advertising basic facts about immigration. I formed a 501(c)(3) non-profit, began fund-raising, and spent the next decade trying to help derail the demographic destruction being inflicted on us.
My group was by no means the typical non-profit (and no USAID funds were showered on my non-profit, I assure you). I’ll give an example of my unusual methods and let you decide whether there was any “genius” behind my personal initiative. But, first, let me say this about personal genius: it has to be clear-pilled for it to matter.
The primary means employed by our enemies to prevent our people from maintaining a homeland for ourselves is to scream “racist” at any of our people who try to restrict immigration in the same way Israel, for example, does. So a major focus of my organization was to discredit that epithet. And the best way to discredit an opponent’s position is ridicule.
So we did stuff like this:
In September, 2000, we contracted for two billboards in the Detroit area. They both carried the same message, “Immigration is doubling US population in my lifetime.” On one, there was a photo of a white boy. On the other was a photo of a black girl.
The billboard with the white kid was one of those massive boards you see looming over interstate highways hundreds of feet off the ground. The billboard with the black girl was much smaller and was down on the surface streets. I chose the locations carefully.
The board with the white kid provided no spot in which a television crew would be able to stop and set up a camera with the billboard in the shot. The board with the black girl, on the other hand, was adjacent to a large parking lot in which a TV crew would be able to set up easily and get a great shot of a local reporter (always the “minority affairs” reporter) doing a story on the board with the billboard clearly in the background.
Once a billboard goes up, the billboard company typically sends the client a picture of the board. As soon as I received the photos of the two boards in Detroit, I posted the one with the white kid on our website, and provided the addresses for both locations. Then I spent the day contacting people in Detroit.
If you were an Ethnic Studies professor at a local college, you got a burner account email from me: You were right, Professor Gomez.5 White supremacy is alive and well in Amerikkka. I just saw a blatantly racist billboard on I-75 on my way back from Cleveland. Truly disgusting.
If you worked in a newsroom at WXYZ-TV you’d get a call from me: In class this morning, Professor Gomez mentioned a demonstration they were having at that racist billboard that ProjectUSA.org put up, but I forgot to find out where the demonstration was going to be. Do you guys happen to know the location?
And so on.
Sure enough, that evening, instead of the thousands of motorists who would see the message on the billboards, it was broadcast to the millions of TV viewers in the Detroit metro area. And in the most poignant way possible: here was the minority affairs reporter at WXYZ-TV interviewing Professor Gomez, who was condemning our racist billboard in the most violent terms, and, over his shoulder, on our billboard with its perfectly factual and important information, was this cute little black girl looking back at the camera.
Genius? I’ll let the reader decide. But it is definitely taking the personal initiative. And it is most definitely not dropping my hands in despairing impotence—as tempting and as intellectually defensible as that may be.6
Today, we, too, have our “countless fleeting rallies,” but they occur in chat rooms and comments sections. And while they are a useful and necessary part of the clear-pilling process, they ultimately signify nothing without something to congeal the sound and fury into a discrete entity with direction. The congealing agent is—or, at least, can be—the religious revolution for which the world hungers. Personal initiative with clear-pilled genius behind it can help bring about the shift in perspective necessary to launch the revolution.
I am now in Texas, where, it’s claimed, there are more Christian Zionists than there are Jewish Zionists in the world. I am slowly making my way to San Antonio, where, by launching a campaign of ridicule against John Hagee, I will honor the memory of Aaron Bushnell and his monumental sacrifice for his people.
I will continue to post content as I have been for the past two years—digging always deeper into the deadly scourge of Judaism and sharing what I learn free of charge. But I will also be out in the physical world, beyond the world of words, working to shift perspectives. And, from here on, paid subscribers will have access to The GARU7 Journal—a running account of those efforts.
I will provide the personal initiative. Paid subscribers will provide the funding. Together, through a restricted discussion for paid subscribers only, the community, perhaps, can provide the genius.
Many of our most brilliant are black-pilled and languishing in despair and poverty. If you can’t afford the price of a subscription (believe me—I understand) but would like to have access to the GARU Journal and feel you can add value to the discussions there, contact me directly. Our “founding” subscribers have purchased gift subscriptions on your behalf.
At first, this Substack was called simply “Unsheathed.” Then I wrote what I still consider my mission statement, which was titled “Odysseus Unsheathed,” and I changed the name of this blog to reflect that.
Russkaya Volya, June 17, 1917, evening issue, p. 4.
The genocide of the Russians fell most heavily on Russians who had anything worth stealing. It was also intentionally dysgenic. So, yeah, the ruling class was utterly destroyed.
I don’t remember the actual names of those I contacted. It was 25 years ago.
The clear pill—the spiritual, moral, religious decision to know the full horror of it—is the cure for the black pill.
"...but from this danger we are secured by the discord existing among them whose roots are so deeply seated that they can never now be plucked up."
Arguably the Shabbos Goy are worse than the Talmudists themselves.
Thank you so much