We are getting near the end of the backlog. Months ago, eons ago, really, we spoke with Mr. American Dagda, who called in from somewhere in Appalachia. He had the bad manners to show up on the screen with better hair than me and a more robust beard than the Crackpot's but was otherwise delightful to speak with, telling us about his experiences on both sides of blade violence and his and his family's search for identity in the American empire's boiling pot of globohomo erasure.
The Crackpot Podcast features traveling writer James LaFond and homeschooling maven Lynn Lockhart.
Mr. Dagda has provided the following addendum for me to share with you:
I was progressively inebriated throughout this conversation so let this be a guide to my more than likely progressively incoherent thoughts.
I tried off and on to add some context to my experience with a little background but if my shoddy memory’s worth anything, it was more of a garbled mess. I am not what you’d probably consider a true ruralite. While most of my kin still live out in the sticks, my parents followed the urgings of their own to get a proper education and make a better life for themselves, and to that end became proper professionals and properly suburban. I, in turn, went through the city public school system with all of its diverse joys. So a city school-day, house in the burbs, and weekends in the hills. After a long sojourn of mayhem and misery amongst the “white trash” urban underclass I’ve spent the past 10 years running back towards those hills. I suppose I am at least an American Cultural Mongrel.
My point on the ridiculousness of white unity, without rehashing two thousand years of internal European predation which frankly should be enough, can be summed up as it’s just not realistic. I mentioned as an example that recent genetic testing in Britain revealed clusters that don’t reflect a big blended mass of people or even modern nation states but the boundaries of 7th century kingdoms. They live on an island the size of Kansas and the English, Scottish, and Welsh aren’t even just the English, Scottish, and Welsh but a dozen smaller ethnic groups. Ethnic groups that took a thousand years to forge into a nation and that should reasonably have their own interests at heart. And you want to talk about how the Irish, Spanish, Greeks, and Finns (or their diaspora) need to find common cause? I’ve got my hands full looking after my own thanks.
To elaborate a bit more on my first encounter with a blade, I was happy to oblige when the fella I’d squared off with wanted to just close and start trading blows, so I was neither in the position or frame of mind to see the knife when it came out. It was a short underhand thrust that through and throughed me in the meat over top of my ribs on my left hand side. I grabbed him on reflex, he lost his grip on the blade, we both lost our footing, and we went to the ground. Being larger for once, on top, and probably experiencing the panicked rage of the wounded animal, I took the ground exchange, found my feet, and whipped the piss out of him with a 2 ft section of towing chain I used to pack around. By the time I was done everybody else involved had either had or given whatever they were up for and both groups just sort of limped off to lick their wounds. I was lucky, I learned my lesson, and I never got caught out without an edge of my own again.
Now for letting that nerd flag fly. If you need a reason to engage in a bit of harmless fun in the real world with real people you might even know and like instead of tuning in and tuning out or having pissing matches on Twitter consider the following. Whatever system suits your fancy, wargaming is an opportunity to practice a little tactical and strategic level thinking. That can hardly hurt the ways things are going. And roleplaying is simply an exercise in communal storytelling. Ya know, one of those things people did before technicolor and a wifi connection to pass the time.
I know my less than stellar opinion on an armed rebellion happening anytime soon is gonna ruffle some feathers but I just ain’t seeing it folks. The long march is over and your enemies are in power. We know where this is headed so how much more they gotta do to you? The counter revolution ain’t coming. I say remove yourselves from the seats of power, learn a little self sufficiency, keep your head down, educate your children quietly, and wait for this trainwreck to tip off into the gorge under the weight of its own degeneracy.
Finally, discovering or reconnecting with a tradition. It occurs to me that at some point towards the end I hold up a series of books to the camera for the sole benefit of Lynn and James while the audience gets to sit around and wonder what in the hell I’m on about so let’s try to remedy that. Perhaps you could start with an archeological study of your peoples material culture in the New World such as Terry Bychov’s The Upland South. Or an ethnography compiled at the turn of the last century by an enamored missionary like John Campbell’s Southern Highlander. Maybe a collaborative effort to trace your musical roots such as Wayfaring Strangers by Ritchie & Orr.
If you want to trace a deeper history you could possibly try something like The Faded Map: Lost Kingdoms of Scotland by Alistair Moffat. Maybe you have an interest in the literary history of your progenitors like the Welsh Bardic tradition compiled in The Four Books of Wales by William Skene. Or just possibly you’ve wondered how your ancestors governed themselves as you’d find in The Brehon Laws by Laurence Ginnell. Your inheritance awaits you if you’re willing to find and gather up the broken pieces.
Audio:
BitChute:
YouTube:
Time stamps
0:03:45 How did Dagda find James?
0:06:50 The Logic of Steel (Violence Project), stabbing stories
0:20:15 White solidarity
0:33:25 Globo-homo in the AA population
0:42:55 Lesbian fireworks, more grocery
0:49:30 Become a manager??
1:03:15 War games, role playing games
1:17:40 Mom content
1:23:30 Demonstrations back in January, what a difference six months make!
1:47:30 Languages
Closing music by Aislinn, not exactly Welsh, but very nice
(c) Lynn Lockhart, the foresaken year of 2020
