Furthest Right

The False Genocide Of Amerinds: Based On Pleasant Illusions


Part of the stress associated with The Awakening — the process by which a person learns that their entire worldview is constructed of lies designed to justify Leftism and its origin, the malignant individualism of the quaking cuck — is seeing how deep the rot goes.

Our only guide here is cause-effect reasoning. If you were taught it in school, there is a reason. The teaching is the effect; what is the cause? Normally, it is to hide one of several things: (1) the disparity between races, castes, and genders; (2) the decline of our civilization; (3) the bungling leadership of democracy.

Today’s topic is the Amerind, or “Native American.” The latter term is nonsense invented by liberals to counter the term “American Nativist,” which applies to those who understood the Western European root of American culture and the need for its genetic preservation. The original term, “natives,” was used alternatingly with “savages” to describe the people who were born here, but not necessarily indigenous or endogenous.

Our history tells us the following: the noble Indian lived in peace and harmony in the New World until Europeans arrived. The Europeans were puny, weak and stupid. The Indian saved them and brought them turkey. Then the Europeans turned on the Indian, and immediately embarked on a plan of genocide motivated by nothing other than racism, cruelty and a desire to dominate.

As with all things taught after 1968, but even more taught after The Enlightenment™, and even more, taught to us by someone other than a wise natural elite… well, you get the point. We live in a time of liberal domination which has been happening gradually for at least 500 years, and by 1968, almost everything was infected. So if you see elected officials, teachers, police, business leaders, clergy and celebrities endorsing something as “true,” you can be certain that it is a lie.

This means that all of your assumptions about life and history were based on illusions, and as you awaken, you will find more and more lies used as foundations for even more lies. These are complex lies: they tell part of the truth, give it a “spin” or “twist” to make your brain naturally leap to a certain conclusion, and that conclusion (coincidentally!) leads to the further assumption that Leftist ideas were right and are a solution.

Let us first look at the charges of genocide, explained here by Guenter Lewy, a professional historian, in his “Were American Indians the Victims of Genocide?”:

We may examine representative incidents by following the geographic route of European settlement, beginning in the New England colonies. There, at first, the Puritans did not regard the Indians they encountered as natural enemies, but rather as potential friends and converts. But their Christianizing efforts showed little success, and their experience with the natives gradually yielded a more hostile view. The Pequot tribe in particular, with its reputation for cruelty and ruthlessness, was feared not only by the colonists but by most other Indians in New England. In the warfare that eventually ensued, caused in part by intertribal rivalries, the Narragansett Indians became actively engaged on the Puritan side.

Hostilities opened in late 1636 after the murder of several colonists. When the Pequots refused to comply with the demands of the Massachusetts Bay Colony for the surrender of the guilty and other forms of indemnification, a punitive expedition was led against them by John Endecott, the first resident governor of the colony; although it ended inconclusively, the Pequots retaliated by attacking any settler they could find. Fort Saybrook on the Connecticut River was besieged, and members of the garrison who ventured outside were ambushed and killed. One captured trader, tied to a stake in sight of the fort, was tortured for three days, expiring after his captors flayed his skin with the help of hot timbers and cut off his fingers and toes. Another prisoner was roasted alive.

A few vital points here: the Indians did not fight as a unified group, but were more interested in fighting each other. The Europeans were friendly at first, but after atrocities, embarked on counter-attacks which resulted in open warfare that frequently threatened the survival of any European colonists. Rape, murder and theft were common Amerind activities.

Now let us put ourselves into the shoes of the European settler. They find a land that is 99.9% uninhabited, being vast and having under a million Amerinds wandering around. They set up camp much as they have done for centuries in unoccupied areas of Europe. Then they meet the savages. These new people seem odd and primitive, but the settlers hope for the best and befriend them, which works out reasonably well with some tribes some of the time.

But then, problems occur. Thefts and attacks on outlying settlers are common. Who did these? Indians. That’s not very helpful; which Indians? No one knows the tribe. Distrust of Indians “in general” spreads. Some tribes ally with the new settlers, but this just makes the conflict worse. Then out comes the torture, rape and murder from the Indian side.

Every settler at once says, “Oh. So they were savages, after all.”

Most people do not know the humanitarian origins of the term “savage.” It means primitive tribespeople that you cannot expect to abide by European ways and morals. This means that you do not allow them to have the upper hand over you, because they will act as is normal in their culture, which will shock the European mind and result in retaliation. The term “savage” was used to minimize the retaliation against these groups by avoiding social trust with them in the first place.

As it played out in the Americas, the term was well-used. Rape, murder, torture, cannibalism and sodomy were common among Amerind tribes, much as they are among every third-world population ever studied. These groups had made food animal species extinct, fought many internal wars in which kidnapping and rape were common, and never managed to adopt even the rudimentary hygenic standards of Europeans which held some of the disease at bay.

Don’t take it from me. Read one of Liberal America’s best-beloved authors, Mark Twain, on his view of the Noble Savage in “The Noble Red Man”:

In books he is tall and tawny, muscular, straight and of kingly presence; he has a beaked nose and an eagle eye.

His hair is glossy, and as black as the raven’s wing; out of its massed richness springs a sheaf of brilliant feathers; in his ears and nose are silver ornaments; on his arms and wrists and ankles are broad silver bands and bracelets; his buckskin hunting suit is gallantly fringed, and the belt and the moccasins wonderfully flowered with colored beads; and when, rainbowed with his war-paint, he stands at full height, with his crimson blanket wrapped about him, his quiver at his back, his bow and tomahawk projecting upward from his folded arms, and his eagle eye gazing at specks against the far horizon which even the paleface’s field-glass could scarcely reach, he is a being to fall down and worship.

His language is intensely figurative. He never speaks of the moon, but always of “the eye of the night;” nor of the wind as the wind, but as “the whisper of the Great Spirit;” and so forth and so on. His power of condensation is marvelous. In some publications he seldom says anything but “Waugh!” and this, with a page of explanation by the author, reveals a whole world of thought and wisdom that before lay concealed in that one little word.

He is noble. He is true and loyal; not even imminent death can shake his peerless faithfulness. His heart is a well-spring of truth, and of generous impulses, and of knightly magnanimity. With him, gratitude is religion; do him a kindness, and at the end of a lifetime he has not forgotten it. Eat of his bread, or offer him yours, and the bond of hospitality is sealed–a bond which is forever inviolable with him.

He loves the dark-eyed daughter of the forest, the dusky maiden of faultless form and rich attire, the pride of the tribe, the all-beautiful. He talks to her in a low voice, at twilight of his deeds on the war-path and in the chase, and of the grand achievements of his ancestors; and she listens with downcast eyes, “while a richer hue mantles her dusky cheek.”

The ruling trait of all savages is a greedy and consuming selfishness, and in our Noble Red Man it is found in its amplest development.

Such is the Noble Red Man in print. But out on the plains and in the mountains, not being on dress parade, not being gotten up to see company, he is under no obligation to be other than his natural self, and therefore:

He is little, and scrawny, and black, and dirty; and, judged by even the most charitable of our canons of human excellence, is thoroughly pitiful and contemptible. There is nothing in his eye or his nose that is attractive, and if there is anything in his hair that–however, that is a feature which will not bear too close examination . . . He wears no bracelets on his arms or ankles; his hunting suit is gallantly fringed, but not intentionally; when he does not wear his disgusting rabbit-skin robe, his hunting suit consists wholly of the half of a horse blanket brought over in the Pinta or the Mayflower, and frayed out and fringed by inveterate use. He is not rich enough to possess a belt; he never owned a moccasin or wore a shoe in his life; and truly he is nothing but a poor, filthy, naked scurvy vagabond, whom to exterminate were a charity to the Creator’s worthier insects and reptiles which he oppresses. Still, when contact with the white man has given to the Noble Son of the Forest certain cloudy impressions of civilization, and aspirations after a nobler life, he presently appears in public with one boot on and one shoe–shirtless, and wearing ripped and patched and buttonless pants which he holds up with his left hand–his execrable rabbit-skin robe flowing from his shoulder–an old hoop-skirt on, outside of it–a necklace of battered sardine-boxes and oyster-cans reposing on his bare breast–a venerable flint-lock musket in his right hand–a weather-beaten stove-pipe hat on, canted “gallusly” to starboard, and the lid off and hanging by a thread or two; and when he thus appears, and waits patiently around a saloon till he gets a chance to strike a “swell” attitude before a looking-glass, he is a good, fair, desirable subject for extermination if ever there was one.

There is nothing figurative, or moonshiny, or sentimental about his language. It is very simple and unostentatious, and consists of plain, straightforward lies. His “wisdom” conferred upon an idiot would leave that idiot helpless indeed.

He is ignoble–base and treacherous, and hateful in every way. Not even imminent death can startle him into a spasm of virtue. The ruling trait of all savages is a greedy and consuming selfishness, and in our Noble Red Man it is found in its amplest development. His heart is a cesspool of falsehood, of treachery, and of low and devilish instincts. With him, gratitude is an unknown emotion; and when one does him a kindness, it is safest to keep the face toward him, lest the reward be an arrow in the back. To accept of a favor from him is to assume a debt which you can never repay to his satisfaction, though you bankrupt yourself trying. To give him a dinner when he is starving, is to precipitate the whole hungry tribe upon your hospitality, for he will go straight and fetch them, men, women, children, and dogs, and these they will huddle patiently around your door, or flatten their noses against your window, day aft er day, gazing beseechingly upon every mouthful you take, and unconsciously swallowing when you swallow! The scum of the earth!

And the Noble Son of the Plains becomes a mighty hunter in the due and proper season. That season is the summer, and the prey that a number of the tribes hunt is crickets and grasshoppers! The warriors, old men, women, and children, spread themselves abroad in the plain and drive the hopping creatures before them into a ring of fire. I could describe the feast that then follows, without missing a detail, if I thought the reader would stand it.

All history and honest observation will show that the Red Man is a skulking coward and a windy braggart, who strikes without warning–usually from an ambush or under cover of night, and nearly always bringing a force of about five or six to one against his enemy; kills helpless women and little children, and massacres the men in their beds; and then brags about it as long as he lives, and his son and his grandson and great-grandson after him glorify it among the “heroic deeds of their ancestors.” A regiment of Fenians will fill the whole world with the noise of it when they are getting ready invade Canada; but when the Red Man declares war, the first intimation his friend the white man whom he supped with at twilight has of it, is when the war-whoop rings in his ears and tomahawk sinks into his brain. . ..

…he is a good, fair, desirable subject for extermination if ever there was one.

The Noble Red Man seldom goes prating loving foolishness to a splendidly caparisoned blushing maid at twilight. No; he trades a crippled horse, or a damaged musket, or a dog, or a gallon of grasshoppers, and an inefficient old mother for her, and makes her work like an abject slave all the rest of her life to compensate him for the outlay. He never works himself. She builds the habitation, when they use one (it consists in hanging half a dozen rags over the weather side of a sage-brush bush to roost under); gathers and brings home the fuel; takes care of the raw-boned pony when they possess such grandeur; she walks and carries her nursing cubs while he rides. She wears no clothing save the fragrant rabbit-skin robe which her great-grandmother before her wore, and all the “blushing” she does can be removed with soap and a towel, provided it is only four or five weeks old and not caked.

Such is the genuine Noble Aborigine. I did not get him from books, but from personal observation.

Savages come in many forms. Anyone who is not aware of the consequences of his actions on a minimal level is probably a savage. This includes almost all people under 120 IQ points and many above it who have not taken the steps to self-actualize. Most Europeans are savages, these days, since Leftism has reprogrammed their brains.

The Leftist promotes the Noble Savage myth as a way of promoting the Leftist agenda, which is to replace all truth and reality with Left-thoughts, starting with the idea that everyone is equal and we need a strong ideological leader like Joseph Stalin (Bernie Sanders is the dollar store substitute) to enforce that equality.

But in reality, savages are savages, and the nobility is a projection of the neurotic Leftist mind.

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