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Old July 12th, 2007 #1
6KILLER
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Default "L'AFFAIRE GLENN MILLER" by HAC

[It has come to my attention that recently my policy on the use of alcohol within the Movement has been subject to certain---mmm, how can I put this politely? Well, let's go with "distortions." In view of this, I would like to remind any who are interested of exactly why I feel the way I do about Movement boozing. - HAC]
C-GRAM: March 2nd, 2007

L'AFFAIRE GLENN MILLER

Hi, guys:

If there is one thing I detest, it is dragging out the Movement's ancient history, since so much of our Movement's ancient history sucks, major league.

However, in response to a number of inquiries I have received resulting from another e-mail I sent out yesterday, it appears that I am compelled to do so. Specifically, I must describe in detail the revolting Glenn Miller episode. You guys might want to go ahead and hit the head before you start reading this one. I am afraid it's going to be another one of my epics, for which I apologize, but this has to be done.

I will be sending this to the full list, by way of explanation regarding my attitude towards alcohol in the Movement, and why I will never again under any circumstances become involved in any way with Movement drunks.

Through a process which in itself would require a book to describe, in 1978 I became the leader of the National Socialist Party of America's North Carolina unit, in 1979 Deputy Leader of the Party, and in 1980 Party Leader of the whole shebang, such as that shebang was. This was back in my Hollywood Nazi days, when I wore the costume, and I will not deny that it had some damned fine moments, not the least in May of 1980 when I got 43,000 votes in the Republican primary for State Attorney General and carried 46 of North Carolina's 100 counties. At one stage we had almost two dozen active and reasonably high quality people in North Carolina who wore the costume, plus over a hundred supporters of various kinds, which for a Hollywood Nazi group was pretty good for one state.

My main aide and lieutenant at the time was a man named Frazier Glenn Miller, who approached me in 1977 after hearing my recorded White Power Hotline phone messages in Raleigh, N.C. I made a lot of mistakes during this period, and if I had to pick one, the main mistake I made was in allowing myself and our group to become virtually dependent on a single individual, Glenn Miller.

I will not detail all of his character defects, which are known to anyone who has followed the VNN board for the past few years. I do feel that I should mention that one of the skeletons in Miller's closet was his prior marriage to a Polynesian woman while he was in the army and the fact that he had several non-White children, a fact that he concealed from me and which I only learned about by accident at a late stage in the game. Then there was the "Peaches" episode. Not to mention his later testimony in the 1988 Sedition Trial and the Shelby murder trial, his time in the Witness Protection Program, etc. etc. etc.

But I will keep this germane to the topic. Miller's main fault, the one under discussion here, was his absolutely uncontrollable alcoholism. Miller was one of those alcoholics who gets up in the morning and immediately pours himself a drink. He drank all day, steadily, from morning until night. He appeared completely unable, not just unwilling, to stop. He had to have it. When he was finally arrested in 1987, after his ridiculous "Declaration of War," all the FBI had to do to break him was withhold his liquor for a few hours and he broke down and confessed, telling them everything they wanted to know. Jack Jackson once told me that their brief career as revolutionary guerrillas consisted of Miller dragging Jack and the late Doug Sheets to a bunch of bars, getting drunk, and the jumping up on a table and yelling "My name is Glenn Miller, and God, guns, and guts made this country!" Miller also accused Jackson and Sheets of plotting to betray and murder him, but stayed with them because Jack made sure to hang on to the booze money. But all that came later.

I knew about Miller's dipsomania from the very beginning, and yet I was so desperate for help, as I am today, that I made the classic Movement mistake of trying to get mileage from a creep. I paid, the Cause paid, and everyone else paid a terrible price for my carelessness and incompetence in the Miller matter. Some, like Steve Miller (no relation) eventually paid in lengthy prison sentences. Some, like Tony Wydra, J.W. Waters, and another man whose name I did not know because this occurred after I had left the country, paid with their lives. The number of broken marriages, broken families, and ruined lives is beyond calculation.

True, most of this were the results of Miller's own term as Fearless Leader of the White Patriot Party and had nothing directly to do with me. But Glenn Miller was a monster, and I was the Dr. Frankenstein who created him and unleashed him on the Movement. My determination to avoid ever repeating this tragic error will probably explain a lot about my present attitude and way of doing things.

At first, it seemed that the benefits of Miller's activity counterbalanced the problems caused by his constant drinking. He owned a large farm in Johnston County which made an ideal rally field, and which we used for all kinds of functions and meetings, notably the Hitlerfest of 1980 and also various functions related to the Greensboro case. It was also our firing range and training ground. He donated money and paid for a lot of printing and other expenses out of his own pocket. Love him or hate him, in his day Miller was dynamic. He installed his own recorded message in his home and he was constantly out distributing literature and recruiting. He organized the massive literature distributions we did of tens of thousands of Thunderbolt and New Order newspapers and leaflets, with military precision. On the surface, he was ideal.
I closed my eyes to the fact that he was literally never seen without a beer in his hand, and later a mixed drink, and later a pop bottle full of straight whiskey. I close my eyes to the fact that much of his recruiting was done in bars, and the men and some of the women he brought into the group were barflies and drinking buddies of his own stripe. I closed my eyes to the fact that his increasingly bizarre White Power Messages were nothing more than drunken ravings, a fact which if anything increased their listenership but brought the NSPA into great disrepute because he came across as what he was, a drunken redneck yelling "Nigger! Nigger! Nigger!", sometimes literally.

I closed my eyes to the fact that he drove all over eastern North Carolina in his truck or his car on Party business, drunk as an owl behind the wheel. Inevitably, he got pulled over and arrested and charged with DUI. More often than not, I was the one who had to drive many miles through the dark to the jail in Smithfield or Rocky Mount or wherever and bail him out. When Miller's license was revoked, he drove anyway and got arrested, again and again and again, for driving drunk while his license was suspended. I have no idea to this day how he escaped a prison sentence himself.

I closed my eyes to the fact that his constant drunkenness, foul mouth, and the personality problems which emerged when he was wasted were driving away the very type of solid, intelligent, and able people the Party needed. (How often did I hear "I agree with the Party, Harold, but I'm not going to try and work with a bunch of drunks, people I wouldn't associate with in my regular life"?)

I closed my eyes to the fact that Miller's behavior with firearms while drunk, and the behavior with firearms of his growing clique of soaks while drunk, was becoming increasingly erratic and dangerous, including at least three accidental discharges in the North Street headquarters building which fortunately didn't hit anyone, although one shotgun blast blew out a street front window, fortunately not when there were any cars or pedestrians going by. (I let Miller stay in the HQ during one of my out of town trips, and when I noticed the bullet hole in a table leg when I got back it turned out he'd had some kind of DTs and fired at a hallucination.)

I closed my eyes to the fact that his behavior was becoming a serious danger to others, including his own family, as when he would dress up in full Nazi "uniform," strap on a .357 Magnum, and go out driving to bars and elsewhere around Johnston County with his young children in the car, asleep in their pajamas because he had no baby-sitter. (His wife would leave him for long periods, sometimes to stay with her family in Chicago and sometimes for a stay in a local mental institution.)
On one occasion we were going in convoy to an NSRP meeting in Rocky Mount, a dozen or so of us in "uniform." I had told Glenn and the others flat out that there was to be no drinking around the NSRP people, many of whom were religious and funny about alcohol. It was about a 100-mile trip. Needless to say, Miller took his most sodden clique with him in one car and smuggled a cooler of beer into the vehicle. About twenty miles short of Rocky Mount they ran out of beer, and against orders they pulled over into a rural convenience store to piss out the beer they had already consumed and to buy more. In the lead vehicle I saw Miller's car pull over, and I went back. I was just in time to see the drunken Miller pulling his gun out of his holster, about to shoot some hapless old black in the parking lot. I had to disarm him and force him back into the car, with the aid of his own club, who were fortunately not so drunk that they didn't realize he'd gone too far. Again, I have no idea why no one called the cops and we all weren't pulled over and busted on that one.

The ultimate disgrace came in November of 1980, at the time of the Greensboro acquittals. We were expecting some problems from Reds and general scum at the HQ in consequence of the Not Guilty verdicts, so I had some men in for all night duty. The next morning I was expecting a reporter from the Raleigh Times, the old afternoon newspaper in Raleigh. This was Robin Clark, an old Chapel Hill High School friend (fortunately) who was passably sympathetic, since we both went to the same integrated hellhole. Clark showed up at the North Street HQ, another comrade came down, and led him into the literature room. (This was about 9 AM.) There behind the duty desk, in a litter of Old Milwaukee cans, lay "Stormtrooper" Glenn Miller, passed out on the floor drunk in full Nazi "uniform" and regalia, jackboots and all, .357 Magnum on his hip, his trousers soaked and a pool of urine soaking into the carpet. He had pissed himself.

I walked in then, and I will not attempt to describe my feelings. I took Robin upstairs and I said, "Look, Robin, I know you're a reporter and you have a job to do. That disgraceful thing on the floor down there is a fact, and I know I can't reasonably ask you not to print it. All I can do is tell you that if you decline to mention what you saw down there in your story, I will owe you a favor as big as the Empire State building, which you may call in at will." (He didn't print anything. He called in his favor in March of 1981 when he walked off with the only photo I had in my possession of John Hinckley in NS attire, taken at the 1978 St. Louis meeting, what would have been a historic photo since it was the only other proof besides his card (signed by me) that Hinckley was an NSPA member for a few months. The photo disappeared, confiscated by the Feds.)

That was finally it. I sat Glenn down and I told him that was it. The camel's back was broken. "Either the drinking stops or you're out," I told him. After a series of hysterical scenes and "open letters," Glenn left the NSPA. Thus was born the White Patriot Party, lifted on a tide of beer and Bourbon. And Hell followed with it, for a lot of people.

So, you may well ask, why didn't I do something before all this? Why did I close my eyes?

I could give you all the rationalizations I used, rationalizations that you will hear even today from all kinds of people to excuse corruption and misbehavior and perversion in the Movement from both leaders and rank and file. "Look at all Glenn does for the Party--we have to have Glenn's farm for rallies--okay, Glenn's got a bit of a problem, but we're all human and surely the good he does compensates for it---." Yadda, yadda, yadda. No, it doesn't. It never has. The bad always overcomes and drives out the good, eventually.

The truth is simple. I did nothing because at that time, I was one of the boozers too.

Our two headquarters were both within walking distance of our veritable temple of Bacchus, the Peace Street Market, which being near the NC State campus always had incredible sale bargains on cheap domestic beer, and I put away a respectable number of cases of it down through the years. Long story short, I became not a political leader or revolutionary writer or anything of the kind, I was a drinking buddy, and it simply became impossible for me to establish any order or discipline, because I wasn't The Boss, I was good ole Harold the drinking buddy.
I was always a bit more in control than Miller--at least I hope I was. I never got on the White Power Message drunk, in any event, and I never blew any bullet holes in the walls while I was smashed. But I was part of the problem--and I knew it, even then. I won't get into all the tortured rationalizations I used to convince myself that I needed to set an example by total abstinence and by drying up the headquarters. Anyone who has ever had a drinking problem themselves will know them off by heart. I won't go quite so far as to say I was an alcoholic myself. I probably wasn't, because eventually I stopped on my own, without any Twelve Steps nonsense. Not just for reasons of health and high blood pressure, but because I realized I simply wasn't getting anything out of it any more, and an alcoholic never does that. But that was years later, and it doesn't excuse my failure with Miller.

Enough. I'll wind it up now.

I am now 53 years old. I cannot swear to you that I will not make any mistakes with the Northwest Migration. I probably will. But I can assure you that I will not make the same mistakes I made in the past. I don't dare. Because it's too important. This time it's the real thing. No more practice swings, no more do-overs. If we fuck it up this time, we lose everything, our race, our civilization, our identity, our children, our very existence in the scheme of things. No can of beer or glass of single malt is worth that.

This time we are going to do this right, and we are going to do it right from the beginning. There will be no more Glenn Miller-style slippery slopes, at least on my end, because I simply will not set foot on the slippery slope, right from the start.

I do not demand that everyone reading this immediately stop drinking. I'm not that dumb. Absolute Prohibition is impossible. We learned that from 1919 to 1933 with the Volstead Act. I am not trying to interfere in anyone's personal life, but where the racial struggle is concerned, we have no personal lives.

What I will do is set an example, and now I have explained to you why. I will not attend any political function or racial event where alcohol is served or available or allowed, because if it is in the vicinity, someone is going to drink it. (Banning it does no good if you don't control the venue. Anyone who has ever attended a Klan rally can describe to you the constant shuffling and sneaking back and forth from the rally field to the cars and trucks wherein the beer cooler and the brown-bagged whiskey bottle is concealed.) That means tight control on the venue for any meetings.

In Northwest Observer #57 you will read about Phases Three and Four. I am not so dumb as to believe that I can lead some kind of temperance movement within the Movement or stop people from drinking. And eventually, I know our people will operate in bars and alcoholic settings. I know the real world is not the world of my novels. Although in those books I try to describe to our people how they should act and be, I know that my characters are idealized and probably will have little counterpart in the real world. That does not mean that the attempt should not be made to set a standard, and set it high as possible.

In these early phases, what very little capital and authority I possess is moral, and I don't want to squander it on a hopeless cause like preventing people from drinking. But I can and I will practice what I preach.

In any revolutionary movement, drunks are dangerous, lethally so. They are unreliable. They are weak of will and character. Their lives revolve around something other than the revolution. Their minds are fuddled even when they are sober and their judgment is always impaired, either by alcohol itself or by their body's craving for alcohol and their mind's inability to live any other way except between drinks. The task we face is damned near impossible as it is. Throw alcohol into the mix and we're dead, our children are dead, our race is dead, and everything we have ever accomplished will be pissed up against the wall just like that last six-pack.

88!
HAROLD A. COVINGTON




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Old July 12th, 2007 #2
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Default My responses are underneath each of his paragraphs

[quote=6KILLER;577329] [It has come to my attention that recently my policy on the use of alcohol within the Movement has been subject to certain---mmm, how can I put this politely? Well, let's go with "distortions." In view of this, I would like to remind any who are interested of exactly why I feel the way I do about Movement boozing. - HAC]
C-GRAM: March 2nd, 2007

L'AFFAIRE GLENN MILLER

Hi, guys:

If there is one thing I detest, it is dragging out the Movement's ancient history, since so much of our Movement's ancient history sucks, major league.

ROUNDER: What "guys" are you talking about, Fat Man, your coupla dozen, anonymous, cyber space followers ??

However, in response to a number of inquiries I have received resulting from another e-mail I sent out yesterday, it appears that I am compelled to do so. Specifically, I must describe in detail the revolting Glenn Miller episode. You guys might want to go ahead and hit the head before you start reading this one. I am afraid it's going to be another one of my epics, for which I apologize, but this has to be done.

ROUNDER: "Epics" it seems, is all you do. Cyber space "epics", at that, since you don't dare attend a WN meeting where actual WNs are. I suppose I oughta be flattered by your long, long Glenn Miller epic, but considering the source, feeling flattered is just too much of a stretch.

I will be sending this to the full list, by way of explanation regarding my attitude towards alcohol in the Movement, and why I will never again under any circumstances become involved in any way with Movement drunks.

ROUNDER: Wow !! Your "full list", huh ?? LOL !!!

Through a process which in itself would require a book to describe, in 1978 I became the leader of the National Socialist Party of America's North Carolina unit, in 1979 Deputy Leader of the Party, and in 1980 Party Leader of the whole shebang, such as that shebang was.

ROUNDER: You forgot to mention your hero leader, Frank Collins. Ya know, that dark, skinned kike midget you lovingly called a "black Irish" when we asked you why he looked so much like a jew.

This was back in my Hollywood Nazi days, when I wore the costume, and I will not deny that it had some damned fine moments, not the least in May of 1980 when I got 43,000 votes in the Republican primary for State Attorney General and carried 46 of North Carolina's 100 counties. At one stage we had almost two dozen active and reasonably high quality people in North Carolina who wore the costume, plus over a hundred supporters of various kinds, which for a Hollywood Nazi group was pretty good for one state.

ROUNDER: Ha. Still stretching truths to record lengths, ain cha Fat Man ?? During that election you did absolutely no public campaigning. And other than 2 or 3 newspaper articles in the entire state, there was absolutely no public mention of your candidacy. 99 percent of voters did not know a nazi was on the ballot in that 2 man race. They voted for "the republican" which was you. You even carried one predominantly black republican precinct. Still harboring allusions of grandeur, ain cha ?? And of course, lying your ass off.

My main aide and lieutenant at the time was a man named Frazier Glenn Miller, who approached me in 1977 after hearing my recorded White Power Hotline phone messages in Raleigh, N.C. I made a lot of mistakes during this period, and if I had to pick one, the main mistake I made was in allowing myself and our group to become virtually dependent on a single individual, Glenn Miller.

ROUNDER: Wow !! Your main lieutenant and the man upon whom you and your entire organization virtually depended upon. Gee, thanks for that huge compliment. But you're right. I did carry your sorry blubber ass for 4 years. Now tell them why you never once in those 4 years, staged one single public demonstration ??

I will not detail all of his character defects, which are known to anyone who has followed the VNN board for the past few years. I do feel that I should mention that one of the skeletons in Miller's closet was his prior marriage to a Polynesian woman while he was in the army and the fact that he had several non-White children, a fact that he concealed from me and which I only learned about by accident at a late stage in the game.

ROUNDER: Provide evidence that I had "several non-white children", and I'll quit the WN movement forever. Deal ??


Then there was the "Peaches" episode. Not to mention his later testimony in the 1988 Sedition Trial and the Shelby murder trial, his time in the Witness Protection Program, etc. etc. etc.

ROUNDER: "My Side of The Story" is at www.whitepatriot.com. Also www.whty.org.

But I will keep this germane to the topic. Miller's main fault, the one under discussion here, was his absolutely uncontrollable alcoholism. Miller was one of those alcoholics who gets up in the morning and immediately pours himself a drink. He drank all day, steadily, from morning until night. He appeared completely unable, not just unwilling, to stop. He had to have it.

ROUNDER: Let's see now. I didn't retire from the US Army until 1 June 1979, and I retired as a Master Sergeant, E-8. I was in the NSPA with you from early 1976 to well past my Army retirement, 3 years later. But yet you expect people to believe I served on active duty in the US Army for 3 years as a Master Sergeant "drunk all day, steadily drinking from morning til nite, an uncontrollable alcoholic ???!!! Caught you in another lie, didn't I Fat Man ??


When he was finally arrested in 1987, after his ridiculous "Declaration of War," all the FBI had to do to break him was withhold his liquor for a few hours and he broke down and confessed, telling them everything they wanted to know. Jack Jackson once told me that their brief career as revolutionary guerrillas consisted of Miller dragging Jack and the late Doug Sheets to a bunch of bars, getting drunk, and the jumping up on a table and yelling "My name is Glenn Miller, and God, guns, and guts made this country!" Miller also accused Jackson and Sheets of plotting to betray and murder him, but stayed with them because Jack made sure to hang on to the booze money. But all that came later.

ROUNDER: You made most of that up, but you're right that Sheets plotted with Jackson to murder me while we were on the run, so they could take what remained of the $35,000 in cash I had on me.

I knew about Miller's dipsomania from the very beginning, and yet I was so desperate for help, as I am today, that I made the classic Movement mistake of trying to get mileage from a creep. I paid, the Cause paid, and everyone else paid a terrible price for my carelessness and incompetence in the Miller matter. Some, like Steve Miller (no relation) eventually paid in lengthy prison sentences.

ROUNDER: Here you imply I had something to do with Steve Miller going to prison. Provide evidence and I'll quit the WN movement forever. Caught you in another lie, Fat Man.


Some, like Tony Wydra, J.W. Waters, and another man whose name I did not know because this occurred after I had left the country, paid with their lives. The number of broken marriages, broken families, and ruined lives is beyond calculation.

ROUNDER: I've never even heard of "J.W. Waters", but Tony Wydra was killed by a bullet in the back in 1988. I was in prison from 1987-90. Another Fat Man lie.

True, most of this were the results of Miller's own term as Fearless Leader of the White Patriot Party and had nothing directly to do with me. But Glenn Miller was a monster, and I was the Dr. Frankenstein who created him and unleashed him on the Movement.

ROUNDER: You must be freakin crazy. When I met you in 76, I'd been an active member of Dr Ed Fields NSRP for over 2 years and I was jew-wise from the mountain of books, newspaper, and pamphlets I'd devoured, and by the many dozens of WN leaders and members I'd met by then. You really do believe your prior association with me makes you a big man, don't you ?? Marty (Lindstedt) the Molestor, did too.


My determination to avoid ever repeating this tragic error will probably explain a lot about my present attitude and way of doing things.

At first, it seemed that the benefits of Miller's activity counterbalanced the problems caused by his constant drinking. He owned a large farm in Johnston County which made an ideal rally field, and which we used for all kinds of functions and meetings, notably the Hitlerfest of 1980 and also various functions related to the Greensboro case. It was also our firing range and training ground. He donated money and paid for a lot of printing and other expenses out of his own pocket. Love him or hate him, in his day Miller was dynamic.

ROUNDER: Well now, that's more like it. A bit of truth. You forgot to mention those 2 acres of watermellons, 2 acres of cucumbers, and hundreds of pounds of pecans from my own trees, I sold and donated the proceeds to the NSPA; doing all the work myself. In addition to my own money and labors during those 4 years (76-80).

He installed his own recorded message in his home and he was constantly out distributing literature and recruiting. He organized the massive literature distributions we did of tens of thousands of Thunderbolt and New Order newspapers and leaflets, with military precision. On the surface, he was ideal.

ROUNDER: Yep, and I still am "ideal".

I closed my eyes to the fact that he was literally never seen without a beer in his hand, and later a mixed drink, and later a pop bottle full of straight whiskey. I close my eyes to the fact that much of his recruiting was done in bars, and the men and some of the women he brought into the group were barflies and drinking buddies of his own stripe. I closed my eyes to the fact that his increasingly bizarre White Power Messages were nothing more than drunken ravings, a fact which if anything increased their listenership but brought the NSPA into great disrepute because he came across as what he was, a drunken redneck yelling "Nigger! Nigger! Nigger!", sometimes literally.

ROUNDER: I already proved you lied about my drinking, Fat Man. But get this !!! If, as you say, I was an "uncontrollable alcolic who drank morning, noon, and nite, and since I built the largest active WN organization on the North American continent in the past 30 years, just imagine what I've have built cold sober. Gotcha ya again, you lying dub o' lard.

I closed my eyes to the fact that he drove all over eastern North Carolina in his truck or his car on Party business, drunk as an owl behind the wheel. Inevitably, he got pulled over and arrested and charged with DUI. More often than not, I was the one who had to drive many miles through the dark to the jail in Smithfield or Rocky Mount or wherever and bail him out. When Miller's license was revoked, he drove anyway and got arrested, again and again and again, for driving drunk while his license was suspended. I have no idea to this day how he escaped a prison sentence himself.

ROUNDER: A bit of truth there, Fat Man. I had coupla DUI's, and lost my license. But you won't find one single WPP member who'll say he or she ever once saw me drunk. Go find one. But yeah, I drank lots of beer and an occasional bourbon and coke. Never denied it. It's even mentioned in my book. You got me out of the slammer ONCE, period. Smithfield - 1978. I was arrested for driving without a license, not for DUI.

I closed my eyes to the fact that his constant drunkenness, foul mouth, and the personality problems which emerged when he was wasted were driving away the very type of solid, intelligent, and able people the Party needed. (How often did I hear "I agree with the Party, Harold, but I'm not going to try and work with a bunch of drunks, people I wouldn't associate with in my regular life"?)

ROUNDER: LOL !!! Everybody who knows you is laughing their asses off after reading that allusion of grandeur BS. One would have to believe that your well known failures are the fault of anybody but yourself.

I closed my eyes to the fact that Miller's behavior with firearms while drunk, and the behavior with firearms of his growing clique of soaks while drunk, was becoming increasingly erratic and dangerous, including at least three accidental discharges in the North Street headquarters building which fortunately didn't hit anyone, although one shotgun blast blew out a street front window, fortunately not when there were any cars or pedestrians going by. (I let Miller stay in the HQ during one of my out of town trips, and when I noticed the bullet hole in a table leg when I got back it turned out he'd had some kind of DTs and fired at a hallucination.)

ROUNDER: Oh, you oughta check my police records in Raleigh and Fayetteville, NC and in Dillon and Lake View, SC as well as my military records covering those years. I not only shot up nigger town in Dillon with my .30 caliber rifle, I pulled guns on at least a dozen niggers and wiggers; assaulted literally dozens of niggers, wetbacks, and wiggers with clubs, fists, and crow bars; and engaged in all sorts of other highly honorable WN actions. Tell um about the time, I got charged in Raleigh with starting a riot with 8-9 kikes in that bar on Hillsboro street, and got convicted. And about that time I got arrested on a 757 jet for carrying a loaded pistol, and got convicted. How about the time I punched out that wetback at "Shoney"s night club for dancing with a white woman ?? Hell, tell it all, Fat Man.

I closed my eyes to the fact that his behavior was becoming a serious danger to others, including his own family, as when he would dress up in full Nazi "uniform," strap on a .357 Magnum, and go out driving to bars and elsewhere around Johnston County with his young children in the car, asleep in their pajamas because he had no baby-sitter. (His wife would leave him for long periods, sometimes to stay with her family in Chicago and sometimes for a stay in a local mental institution.)
On one occasion we were going in convoy to an NSRP meeting in Rocky Mount, a dozen or so of us in "uniform." I had told Glenn and the others flat out that there was to be no drinking around the NSRP people, many of whom were religious and funny about alcohol. It was about a 100-mile trip. Needless to say, Miller took his most sodden clique with him in one car and smuggled a cooler of beer into the vehicle. About twenty miles short of Rocky Mount they ran out of beer, and against orders they pulled over into a rural convenience store to piss out the beer they had already consumed and to buy more. In the lead vehicle I saw Miller's car pull over, and I went back. I was just in time to see the drunken Miller pulling his gun out of his holster, about to shoot some hapless old black in the parking lot. I had to disarm him and force him back into the car, with the aid of his own club, who were fortunately not so drunk that they didn't realize he'd gone too far. Again, I have no idea why no one called the cops and we all weren't pulled over and busted on that one.

ROUNDER: And all while you were too freakin yellow to stage one single public demonstration in 4 long years. Now, tell them why you didn't show up in Greensboro on 3 Nov 1979, but your best men, including me, did.

The ultimate disgrace came in November of 1980, at the time of the Greensboro acquittals. We were expecting some problems from Reds and general scum at the HQ in consequence of the Not Guilty verdicts, so I had some men in for all night duty. The next morning I was expecting a reporter from the Raleigh Times, the old afternoon newspaper in Raleigh. This was Robin Clark, an old Chapel Hill High School friend (fortunately) who was passably sympathetic, since we both went to the same integrated hellhole. Clark showed up at the North Street HQ, another comrade came down, and led him into the literature room. (This was about 9 AM.) There behind the duty desk, in a litter of Old Milwaukee cans, lay "Stormtrooper" Glenn Miller, passed out on the floor drunk in full Nazi "uniform" and regalia, jackboots and all, .357 Magnum on his hip, his trousers soaked and a pool of urine soaking into the carpet. He had pissed himself.

ROUNDER: Another of your typical fabricated lies - a little truth, a little exaggeration, with lies for flavoring, eh Fat Man ?? The only truth in your above rambling was that there was a reporter named Robin Clark. All the rest, you made up.

I walked in then, and I will not attempt to describe my feelings. I took Robin upstairs and I said, "Look, Robin, I know you're a reporter and you have a job to do. That disgraceful thing on the floor down there is a fact, and I know I can't reasonably ask you not to print it. All I can do is tell you that if you decline to mention what you saw down there in your story, I will owe you a favor as big as the Empire State building, which you may call in at will." (He didn't print anything. He called in his favor in March of 1981 when he walked off with the only photo I had in my possession of John Hinckley in NS attire, taken at the 1978 St. Louis meeting, what would have been a historic photo since it was the only other proof besides his card (signed by me) that Hinckley was an NSPA member for a few months. The photo disappeared, confiscated by the Feds.)

ROUNDER: Above, Fat Man engages in more allusions of grandeur with another of his feeble attempts at self praise that fools no one who has ever known him - only young, impressionable WNs who've never met him.

That was finally it. I sat Glenn down and I told him that was it. The camel's back was broken. "Either the drinking stops or you're out," I told him. After a series of hysterical scenes and "open letters," Glenn left the NSPA. Thus was born the White Patriot Party, lifted on a tide of beer and Bourbon. And Hell followed with it, for a lot of people.

ROUNDER: I humiliated you with the 5,000 strong, active-in-the-streets White Patriot Party organization, that compared with your organization of a few dozen. Live with it Fat Man. It's recorded history.

So, you may well ask, why didn't I do something before all this? Why did I close my eyes?

I could give you all the rationalizations I used, rationalizations that you will hear even today from all kinds of people to excuse corruption and misbehavior and perversion in the Movement from both leaders and rank and file. "Look at all Glenn does for the Party--we have to have Glenn's farm for rallies--okay, Glenn's got a bit of a problem, but we're all human and surely the good he does compensates for it---." Yadda, yadda, yadda. No, it doesn't. It never has. The bad always overcomes and drives out the good, eventually.

The truth is simple. I did nothing because at that time, I was one of the boozers too.

Our two headquarters were both within walking distance of our veritable temple of Bacchus, the Peace Street Market, which being near the NC State campus always had incredible sale bargains on cheap domestic beer, and I put away a respectable number of cases of it down through the years. Long story short, I became not a political leader or revolutionary writer or anything of the kind, I was a drinking buddy, and it simply became impossible for me to establish any order or discipline, because I wasn't The Boss, I was good ole Harold the drinking buddy.
I was always a bit more in control than Miller--at least I hope I was. I never got on the White Power Message drunk, in any event, and I never blew any bullet holes in the walls while I was smashed. But I was part of the problem--and I knew it, even then. I won't get into all the tortured rationalizations I used to convince myself that I needed to set an example by total abstinence and by drying up the headquarters. Anyone who has ever had a drinking problem themselves will know them off by heart. I won't go quite so far as to say I was an alcoholic myself. I probably wasn't, because eventually I stopped on my own, without any Twelve Steps nonsense. Not just for reasons of health and high blood pressure, but because I realized I simply wasn't getting anything out of it any more, and an alcoholic never does that. But that was years later, and it doesn't excuse my failure with Miller.

ROUNDER: There you go again, taking credit for Glenn Miller. It really does make you feel important, doesn't it Fat Man ??

Enough. I'll wind it up now.

I am now 53 years old. I cannot swear to you that I will not make any mistakes with the Northwest Migration. I probably will. But I can assure you that I will not make the same mistakes I made in the past. I don't dare. Because it's too important. This time it's the real thing. No more practice swings, no more do-overs. If we fuck it up this time, we lose everything, our race, our civilization, our identity, our children, our very existence in the scheme of things. No can of beer or glass of single malt is worth that.

This time we are going to do this right, and we are going to do it right from the beginning. There will be no more Glenn Miller-style slippery slopes, at least on my end, because I simply will not set foot on the slippery slope, right from the start.

I do not demand that everyone reading this immediately stop drinking. I'm not that dumb. Absolute Prohibition is impossible. We learned that from 1919 to 1933 with the Volstead Act. I am not trying to interfere in anyone's personal life, but where the racial struggle is concerned, we have no personal lives.

What I will do is set an example, and now I have explained to you why. I will not attend any political function or racial event where alcohol is served or available or allowed, because if it is in the vicinity, someone is going to drink it. (Banning it does no good if you don't control the venue. Anyone who has ever attended a Klan rally can describe to you the constant shuffling and sneaking back and forth from the rally field to the cars and trucks wherein the beer cooler and the brown-bagged whiskey bottle is concealed.) That means tight control on the venue for any meetings.

In Northwest Observer #57 you will read about Phases Three and Four. I am not so dumb as to believe that I can lead some kind of temperance movement within the Movement or stop people from drinking. And eventually, I know our people will operate in bars and alcoholic settings. I know the real world is not the world of my novels. Although in those books I try to describe to our people how they should act and be, I know that my characters are idealized and probably will have little counterpart in the real world. That does not mean that the attempt should not be made to set a standard, and set it high as possible.

In these early phases, what very little capital and authority I possess is moral, and I don't want to squander it on a hopeless cause like preventing people from drinking. But I can and I will practice what I preach.

In any revolutionary movement, drunks are dangerous, lethally so. They are unreliable. They are weak of will and character. Their lives revolve around something other than the revolution. Their minds are fuddled even when they are sober and their judgment is always impaired, either by alcohol itself or by their body's craving for alcohol and their mind's inability to live any other way except between drinks. The task we face is damned near impossible as it is. Throw alcohol into the mix and we're dead, our children are dead, our race is dead, and everything we have ever accomplished will be pissed up against the wall just like that last six-pack.

88!
HAROLD A. COVINGTON

ROUNDER: To those who've never met Fat Man, his above several paragraphs sound almost believable. Not to anyone who knows him, though. It's the same old "valuable intellectual properties" bullshit he's been singing ever since he got involved with WN - pablum for young, impressionable WNs who don't know the Fat Man. Reminds me of what he told a young female member of the NSPA back in 77 or 78: "When the race war comes, I want to be off in a cave somewhere, writing about it."

Hey Fat Man, go read my book and learn how to lead. You can read it online at www.whitepatriotparty.com. Btw, where you at ?? Will Williams, who won a $200,000 lawsuit against you in Raleigh for your character assassination lyings about him, wants to know. LOL !!!



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Old July 12th, 2007 #4
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:krofl

Quote:
There behind the duty desk, in a litter of Old Milwaukee cans, lay "Stormtrooper" Glenn Miller, passed out on the floor drunk in full Nazi "uniform" and regalia, jackboots and all, .357 Magnum on his hip, his trousers soaked and a pool of urine soaking into the carpet. He had pissed himself.
I don't care about the rest... that visual is fucking priceless!!!
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Old July 12th, 2007 #5
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"You must spread some Reputation around before giving it to Rounder again."
Thanks RWC, for taking the time to read all that.

Several years ago, HAC engaged in an internet campaign of character assassination lies against Will Williams, one of the most respected and trusted WNs in the country. Will sued his lying ass in a Raleigh, NC court and won a $200,000 judgment. Now, the Fat Man is too scared to return to his home state.
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Old July 12th, 2007 #6
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:krofl



I don't care about the rest... that visual is fucking priceless!!!
Your "priceless" visualization was keyboard created by one of the internet's most proven liars and fakes who is known personally by many VNN'ers. But hey, whatever "visuals" turn you on. . .
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Old July 12th, 2007 #7
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I remember several years ago, I was browsing around the Yahoo white power groups looking for folks to chat with, and I ended up on some Harold Covington mailing list....and it was some of the most over-the-top pathetic crap I have ever seen. I had no idea he was anything other than some crazed 14-year old. (This is no bs, too. I ended up blocking his mailing lists/etc because I thought the guy had to be a fed.)
 
Old July 12th, 2007 #8
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Your "priceless" visualization was keyboard created by one of the internet's most proven liars and fakes who is known personally by many VNN'ers. But hey, whatever "visuals" turn you on. . .
I wonder if Von Bluvens would do a picture of it?
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Old July 12th, 2007 #9
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I wonder if Von Bluvens would do a picture of it?
You really do "wonder" and "visualize" alot, don cha ?? Go ask him, silly.
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Old July 12th, 2007 #10
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You really do "wonder" and "visualize" alot, don cha ?? Go ask him, silly.
Hmmm...OK.
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Old July 12th, 2007 #11
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[It has come to my attention that recently my policy on the use of alcohol within the Movement has been subject to certain---mmm, how can I put this politely? Well, let's go with "distortions." In view of this, I would like to remind any who are interested of exactly why I feel the way I do about Movement boozing. - HAC]
I don't know the history of this but who really gives a rat's ass about this moron's notions of "Movement boozing?" The article was clearly written to defame Rounder about things that MIGHT have occurred in the 1970s!! Even if it were all true, big fucking deal! Who among us hasn't been drunk, or otherwise incapacitated, and acted inappropriately? Some people are really quite childish and need to grow up.

-Wagner
 
Old July 12th, 2007 #12
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Wagner View Post
Quote:
Originally Posted by 6KILLER View Post
[It has come to my attention that recently my policy on the use of alcohol within the Movement has been subject to certain---mmm, how can I put this politely? Well, let's go with "distortions." In view of this, I would like to remind any who are interested of exactly why I feel the way I do about Movement boozing. - HAC]
I don't know the history of this but who really gives a rat's ass about this moron's notions of "Movement boozing?" The article was clearly written to defame Rounder about things that MIGHT have occurred in the 1970s!! Even if it were all true, big fucking deal! Who among us hasn't been drunk, or otherwise incapacitated, and acted inappropriately? Some people are really quite childish and need to grow up.

-Wagner
It was written by HAC same person that penned the article, moron. The quote showed up because TTGM isn't quite computer literate. I could care less about your little net' Nutzi opinion.
 
Old July 12th, 2007 #13
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It was written by HAC same person that penned the article, moron. The quote showed up because TTGM isn't quite computer literate. I could care less about your little net' Nutzi opinion.
First, I wasn't directing the comment towards you. I was commenting on the article. Second, you obviously do care about my opinion or you wouldn't have commented on it; now would you?
 
Old July 13th, 2007 #14
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I remember several years ago, I was browsing around the Yahoo white power groups looking for folks to chat with, and I ended up on some Harold Covington mailing list....and it was some of the most over-the-top pathetic crap I have ever seen. I had no idea he was anything other than some crazed 14-year old. (This is no bs, too. I ended up blocking his mailing lists/etc because I thought the guy had to be a fed.)
Yeah, lots of people have posted similar stories on here, about being placed on HAC's email list.

I think he has problems separating the fictions in his head from actual facts, even about his own movement history. And he's so much in love with his own writings, he doesn't even care. To HAC, it's not what he says, but rather how he says it, that's important.

As you can see, I easily exposed several of his quite obvious lies. But like all habitual liars, neither he nor his followers, will respond to the lies I caught him in. Instead, they'll just make up more, and even bigger, lies. Lies to which, they'll add a little bit of truth, some exaggerations, and quips to fool young, gullible, impressionables into believing huge whoopers.

I call them "kike-alikes" for that reason.
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Old July 13th, 2007 #15
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My immediate impression I had of him was the fat kid 'Harold' in Stephen King's 'The Stand.'

I have heard the 'when the race war starts, I want to be in a cave writing about it' before, also....I remember that line from one of his ramblings on his Yahoo group several years ago.

Wrote him off as a 'nutjob' then, and I don't put a lot of stock in what he says now.
 
Old July 13th, 2007 #16
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6KILLER posted HAC's lies. I exposed the lies. But yet 6KILLER ignores my exposures of HAC's lies. How come ??

I mean, when you post shit, then the shit is proven to be shit, you gotta say something. Right ??

LOL !!!

(For those of you who don't know 6KILLER, he's a long time admirer of the Christian Identity nut and indicted child molestor, Martin Lindstedt, who's been confined to a Missouri nut house for over a year now for, among other sick crimes, molesting his 5-year old grandson.)
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Old July 13th, 2007 #17
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Originally Posted by RebelWithACause View Post
My immediate impression I had of him was the fat kid 'Harold' in Stephen King's 'The Stand.'
Harold was the skinny, nerdy guy, who was in love with Ringwald's character.


Whether I like Miller or not is irrelevant; HAC is a joke.
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Old July 13th, 2007 #18
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Harold was the skinny, nerdy guy, who was in love with Ringwald's character.


Whether I like Miller or not is irrelevant; HAC is a joke.
Read the book. He started out chubby but lost weight. The book is better than the miniseries, but either way, HAC is/was a laughable tard.
 
Old July 13th, 2007 #19
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Read the book. He started out chubby but lost weight. The book is better than the miniseries, but either way, HAC is/was a laughable tard.
You know, it has been years since I read the book, the movie I saw a few weeks ago. That's a good idea, I was wondering what to read.
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Old July 13th, 2007 #20
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I don’t understand it, Miller was a drunk but stayed a sergeant in the army, managed to hold on to a farm, which he farmed, all the while building a 5,000-man organization. HAC admits to all this, it sounds like he is in love with Miller instead of hating him.

I have known drunks and 1 or 2 that couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom and not a single one of them had as much as a house much less a large farm and an active position in the US military.

If Miller could do all of that drunk enough to not be able to go to the bathroom he must be some space creature because no human being could accomplish that. Although seeing the go to he has now I could imagine what he could do in his younger days.

One thing strange about HAC was he keeps pointing things out like, we needed Millers farm, we needed Millers money, we needed Millers truck, we needed Millers printing contacts ect. What was everyone else doing while Miller was supposedly drunk on the floor?





RE Amiee and ohgolly

It kills me to the very ends of my soul to see 2 people arguing while flying the confederate flag. Whatever the problem is it is not worth southern people arguing. Save it for the hippies.
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Last edited by Sean Martin; July 13th, 2007 at 09:27 PM.
 
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