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A White Hot Fire Rises

There are signs of volcanic life surfacing in long dormant White America. A White hot fire rises. Recently, I saw one such sign, a very small sign, but magnificently portentous because it was an act of pro-White rebellion committed deep in the heart of a decadent anti-White shitlibopolis; the nature of the act was one that I had not encountered before in the wilds of any SWPLville.

A handful of posters promoting an anti-Trump protest march were taped to traffic light poles and other utility boxes near an outdoor cafe. As I watched with growing interest, five corn-fed and bearded White men wearing working class clothes and ear-to-ear shitlib-eating grins strode purposefully from one poster to the next, tearing them down and (respectfully) walking to a nearby garbage can to throw them out. As they performed their valuable public service, an effete, stoop-shouldered white manlet snarled at them from across the street. Even at twenty paces I could see the manlet’s curled lip quivering with menopausal rage.

The Fantastic Five noticed him too and, gathering together in a V-formation of happy force, triumphantly strutted across the street toward the iconic white liberal, whereupon they rudely impaled his personal space to remove the last anti-Trump poster that happened to be on the traffic pole situated at that corner right where he was standing and fuming. One of the Five swung in front of the manlet and made a dramatic show of crumpling the poster and tossing it into the garbage for a sweet three-point conversion.

The funniest outtake from this scene was the manlet’s utter enfeeblement in the face of an impudent provocation from his mortal enemies. Snarling from a distance, he was left speechless and catatonic when the Five entered his comfort zone; his inability to act on his suppressed rage a reminder of his low-T futility. I loved witnessing his libsnarl give way in slo-mo glory to a chin-tucked, downcast-eyed, beta male turtling once he realized the Five were heading his way to commit what he must have fantasized was unimaginable horrors against his nonblack body.

Nothing physical happened, this time, but something much worse occurred: the ouster of the shitlib from his position of power in the public space he considered his own, and his abject humiliation in the face of real resistance.

There’s fight left in White men. The time is coming, very soon now, when the paper tigress of shitliberalism is exposed on the vivisecting table, and unapologetic shitlords stream out of their bunkers armed to the teeth with the liberating knowledge that the passive-aggressive snarl is all their enemies bring to battle, and behind that snarl there’s nothing but cowardly submission.

Speaking of a White fire rising:

heatstreep

A rare breed, two Pedowood shitlords, react to post-Wall harridan Meryl Streep’s anti-Trump self-aggrandizing harangue on stage. Look at the fire in Vince Vaughn’s and Mel Gibson’s eyes. These are men asking themselves, and the world, “Who bitch this is?”. They forge in the furnace of their unalloyed disgust a quiet and seething intolerance for the enemies of White men; a vengeance devised to settle the ultimate score — recapture of their homeland from degenerates within — percolates in their blood and radiates from their irises.

Look at those eyes brimming with righteous hatred closely, and multiply that look by millions, because that’s how many White men of the West feel the same way. And their numbers grow daily. White men are awakening to their planned and active dispossession by malevolent forces corrupting the creation of their ancestors. They see Meryl StreepThroat as another in a long line of preachy hypocritical reprobates shitting on their race and culture and values for fun and profit and the adulation of the elite bubble crowd. This rapidly coalescing army of normal White men and the White women who have not yet abandoned them for the wigger low life knows that attacks on Trump are proxy attacks on Whites. They know, too, that Meryl Creep gave a standing ovation for child-rapist Roman Polanski, and wonder who is she to lecture White Trump-supporters about decency?

Meryl HeatStreep, in the act of mendaciously regurgitating a media-generated fake news story about Trump mocking a disabled reporter, says “Disrespect invites disrespect”. White men of the West say to her, “Your cretinous ilk have been disrespecting core White America for generations. You just don’t like that now there’s return fire.”

And this time, anti-White shitlibs, the war won’t be fought with rhetorical BB shooters. The cucks are chastened, the silos opened, and the shiv-tipped nukes ready for launch.