The following essay was taken (with permission) from ClubOrlov.blogspot.com.
Many thanks to Dashui, for bringing it to our attention, as it is very instructive in terms of the war in Europe. To learn more about our thoughts on the situation in Europe in general, check out Julian Langness’s book, Fistfights With Muslims In Europe: One Man’s Journey Through Modernity, or this podcast at Red Ice Radio: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i5hbTnoGqRQ
As I have mentioned before on this site, I believe it is worth trying to consciously co-opt the term “moderns” from ISIS, as I think it is a perfect designation for those who are overly enthralled to modern society, and the petty and shallow pleasures and weak philosophies it is based on. ISIS uses it to speak derisively about Westernized Muslims, whereas we can use it to speak of the un-awakened and weak within our own lands.
The following article very helpfully lays out what happens when “Law of the Jungle”-following Muslims come into contact with “Moderns (in this case the Russians from the author’s childhood).
The excerpt is from Sergei Maslenitsa, a Cossack Russian who grew up in Chechnya in the 1970’s and 80s. His parents were murdered by Chechens, along with most of his relatives, while he was away at the military academy. He returned however, fought in both Chechen Wars, and exacted vengeance upon their killers.
Here are his remembrances:
I was born and grew up in Chechnya, in Shelkovskaya Stanitsa, Shelkovsky Region, Chechen-Ingush Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic. I crossed paths with the Chechens from early childhood. And even then I was impressed by how much stronger they are in spirit. In the kindergarten, there were constant fights between Russian and Chechen children, after which their parents were summoned. On the Russian side, it was invariably the mommy who came, and nagged her son: “You shouldn’t fight! Fighting is bad!” On the Chechen side it was invariably the father who came. He slapped his son upside the head and told him: “How dare you lose a fight to a stinking Russian—the son of an alcoholic and a prostitute? Tomorrow you thrash him so hard that he pisses himself from fear any time he sees you!” In school, hardly a day went by without a fight. I usually had to fight against superior numbers, in spite of the fact that in my class there were just five Chechens and fifteen Russians. And while I alone was swinging back at the five, the other fourteen stood around gazing at their shoes.
We were constantly being pressured psychologically, tested for weakness. One sign of weakness, and it’s the end—they thrash you so hard that you never get up again. Once I was ambushed by a group of Chechen upperclassmen. In fighting them off, I cracked the skull of one of them using a steel pipe. They stopped fighting and dragged their casualty away. The next day in school I was approached by some Chechens I didn’t know, who challenged me to a knife fight—to the death. When I showed up, there were fifteen of them waiting for me, all grown men. I thought that they would simply kill me.
But they respected the fact that I came alone and didn’t show fear, and they put forward one fighter. They gave me a knife, while the Chechen approached me unarmed. Then I tossed the knife away and we fought with bare hands. As a result of that fight, I ended up in hospital with fractures. When I was released I was met by the father of the lad whose head I smashed in with a pipe. He said to me: “I see that you are a warrior and that you do not fear death. Be a guest in my house.” After that we had a long talk. He told me about adats (Chechen tribal customs) and about the upbringing which turns Chechen boys into warriors. He told me that we Russians are faggots who forgot their roots, stopped listening to their elders, turned into alcoholics, degenerated into a herd of cattle and stopped being a people. That was the moment when I started to change, or, if you will, to become myself.
And then the good times arrived. Russians were being slaughtered in the street, in broad daylight. I saw with my own eyes how a group of Chechens surrounded a Russian lad in a bread line. One of them spat on the ground and told him to lick it up. When he refused, they cut his belly open with a knife. Another time, in school, a group of Chechens stormed into a classroom in the middle of a class, selected the three most attractive girls, and dragged them away with them. Later we found out that the girls were presented as birthday presents to a local Chechen criminal authority.
And then the times got even better. Fighters came and started to cleanse the Russian population. At night we could hear the screams of people who were being raped and murdered in their own houses. Nobody came to their help. Each person was alone, quivering with fear. Some even proposed an ideology for their inaction: “my home is my fortress.” (The person who said this is no longer alive; the Chechens draped his guts over the fence in front of his house.) That was how they could eliminate us, cowardly idiots, one by one. Tens of thousands of Russians were killed, a few thousand ended up as slaves or in Chechen harems, hundreds of thousands fled Chechnya in their underwear. That was how the Chechens solved the “Russian problem” in their separatist republic.
And the only reason they succeeded in doing so is because we were total shit. We are still shit, but not quite so liquid, and in that shit there are some steel particles. And when these particles coalesce we have incidents such as what happened in Kondopoga [a famous incident in a town in Karelia, a region next to Finland, where, after Chechen migrants murdered several locals, the locals staged an old-fashioned pogrom and the government had to evacuate 100 Chechens]. There aren’t that many of them yet, but the Chechens are doing an excellent job of reforming us. Russians now are fundamentally different from the Russians of 1991. In 1991, in Shelkovskaya Stanitsa, a single armed Chechen killed more than a hundred Russians, walking from house to house, calmly shooting and reloading. Nobody dared oppose him. But just 15 years later, in Kondopoga, in Tver, in Stavropol the Chechens got thrashed. They are first-class predators, and as a result of their mission of cultural enlightenment Russian cattle is once again becoming a people.
Maslenitsa’s reference to the behavior of the Russians, who still thought of themselves as individuals (“my home is my fortress.”), perfectly parallels the average Westerner’s outlook today. In contrast to the Muslims- who think of themselves as a single united tribe- “individualism”, this crazy philosophical quirk of history, has rendered Europeans in the West increasingly at the mercy of those, like the Chechens in this story, who will rape their wives, enslave their daughters, and “drape their guts over the fence in front of their house”, to quote from the narrative above.
We who are already awakened, who are not “moderns”, thus have a responsibility to do everything we can to 1) wake up the slumbering masses around us, and 2) prepare for the battle that is unfolding.
I know those who follow these posts are working to do these things, and I appreciate your readership and support immensely. I could not be prouder to have you- those who are awake and ready to fight- as members of this community. May we do our part to not shame our ancestors, and bring victory and vengeance to bear as events like those described above, fall upon our lands.