About 16 people turned out for a meeting of the newly forming central Georgia group. The business part of the meeting was relatively short, as the main business of the group at the moment is to find and secure its resources.

John Michael gave a short talk which included a memorable statement. He said that there is nothing he has which he is not willing to sacrifice to the movement. And, he said, the enemy cannot kill him
because he is already dead. He died years ago.

It so happens that John Michael is very talented with the use of written English, and so he can
illuminate his own meaning of that at whatever time he chooses. However that statement inspires this tired, old activist to offer up a few words about the living dead.

In the first place, when you have anything at all in this life which you care about very deeply, you
eventually discover that it owns you. It is the things you love which determine who and what you are. It is the things you love, and not your personal welfare or fortune, which guide your decisions and initiate your battles. As an individual you soon realize how small you are.

Secondly, your confidence in the decency and humanity of your fellow humans dies a slow, hard
death. Promote any view that is not absolutely mainstream and you will have to endure the slings and arrows of the mob. People will not be content just to criticize and mock you. They will actively seek to do you damage. They will try to stir up trouble on your job and get you fired. They will try to stir up trouble in your neighborhood and get you run out of your home. They will try to stir up trouble with the police and get you investigated and harassed and, if at all possible, arrested. You will be accused of everything from child abuse to insanity.

Thirdly, we are all social animals, we humans. We like to be loved and respected and all that. But if
your views do not set well with the mobs then you may have to live without those things. In the racialist movement, the veterans all know they will be hated by most and loved by few. The people of the mob not only fail to respect you, they get together in gangs to throw things at you and try to humiliate you. They sometimes resemble a pack of dogs enjoying the pursuit of a rabbit, setting up a big howl and drooling for a taste of the prey. As you, the rabbit, continually dodge the fury of the pack, your individual self gets even smaller.

Fourthly, we need not only people who love us but also people that we can love. This is the part that
can bring us to our knees in tears. Our family and former friends may not be able to withstand the fury of the pack and may turn from us. New friends may turn out to be informants or spies. Time after time we face abandonment and betrayal. This is the part that delivers the finishing blow to your egotistical, proud, individual self.

And yet that thing that we love and that owns our lives does not allow us to choose any other path. By the time we become hardcore radicals we are indeed dead.

Does anyone remember how the press ranted over the stony faced way in which Timoth McVeigh received the poison of Iron Heel? But we all know he had already died years before that. All that was left to him at that point was his physical body, and that had become a source of misery, imprisoned as it was in the ugly steel box of the oppressors.

But at the point where one is dead, one becomes Superman. From that day forward there is no limit to the things one can accomplish. From that day forward you will amaze even yourself. In a sense there is no life until after death. That was the lesson of Odin as he hung on the tree.

It was also the lesson of Jesus as he hung on the cross. And he was human enough to feel all of the pain. Most Christians value their religion because of the promise of life after death. But Jesus followed his path even though he knew how it would end. And look at the life he had BEFORE he died. When you have found something for which you are willing to give up your life, that is when you can truly live.