Mere fanaticism alone is not the ultimate indicator of a revolutionary movement whose time, it can be justifiably said, has come. All this must be in… - James Mason

It behooves us to smile at those who today disparage our message if by our so doing we are striking out on the course that they themselves must one day follow. We would be fools and cowards to shirk the task and take for granted that someone else might take it up in our stead. We have so little to lose at this point and so much to gain; our prime enemies being stagnation, dogma, and muddle. It requires some daring and imagination to become the vanguard of a movement, and to remain so takes constant reappraisal and re-evaluation.

But, just from a practical point of view, you tell a young White kid he must get his hair cut and give up grass, etc., and you are going to lose him to the other side who will be thinking to themselves - rightfully - just what a jerk you are. We will interior decorate only AFTER we have extinguished the house fire. (Same goes for sex practices as long as it is kept WHITE, just as Manson insisted.)

The great advantage that the Third World elements have in the world and in our midst is that they still struggle. It is NOT the aid and comfort lavished upon them by the Jews and bleeding-heart liberals, though this is most assuredly considerable. Their greatest impetus today comes from those among their leaders who are claiming that they, as a group, have made no significant progress since the 1960's. This spurs them onto continued struggle. Idiotic Rightists and conservatives take hollow consolation at the same words addressed to Blacks and fall back to sleep. Struggle is the force of life itself. Where there is ample struggle, there is not only life but also strength and all that attends.
Struggle brings with it awareness and touch with reality.
Whites perceive - even if unconsciously - that their struggle has been over for longer than they or any of their predecessors really can tell. When, during the mid-Sixties, as a youth in junior high school, a classroom of mixed Blacks and Whites was collectively chanting "Black Power, Black Power", the explanation one White offered me later was that there was already "White Power" and that "Black Power" was only the fair thing. By instinct alone, that didn't wash at all with me even though, at twelve or thirteen, I was unable to articulate in my mind exactly why. In fact there was no "power" at all. Only a pie of which everyone wanted a piece. And, just as nature decrees everywhere, the most and biggest pieces go to the most aggressive. Struggle.