820 words

In November of last year, I commented on a fundraising article by David Zsutty titled “Counter-Currents at the Crossroads.” I mentioned that I had just donated for the first time and that my wife was pregnant. I received several congratulatory messages from writers and commenters. I was elated by their response. This support reassured me that not only was I right to donate, but it also showed me that people in pro-white spaces aren’t just jaded and hopeless curmudgeons who scream into the void. These people are working toward a better future for all of us and I can trust them to have my back. The reactions to my comment also revealed a sense of community at Counter-Currents that does not exist at similar pro-white publications. It inspired me to write the following piece. I hope it can rekindle the fire in those of us who feel lost, exhausted, or depressed by the current state of the West or of the movement.

Here goes:

Four months ago, on Valentine’s Day, the lives of my wife and I were changed forever with the arrival of my son Joey. The moment I first saw him, with his lumpy potato face and purplish skin as he wailed at the top of his little baby lungs, I fell in love. My wife was barely awake, however. My son’s birth had been a difficult ordeal for her. After a healthy, normal pregnancy, her blood pressure suddenly dropped and she needed a last-minute C-section. Thus, we were all quite worried for a few hours. To her credit, she handled the whole situation with the Zen-like calm of a Buddhist monk, especially considering the gravity of the procedure.

My wife eventually made a full recovery. She gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby, and we couldn’t be happier about it. Sure, on some nights sleep is non-existent for us, and Joey’s crying fits caused by teething, hunger, or Daddy being too tired to dance with him can be difficult to bear, but the challenges of being new parents are no match for the joy that his big, goofy grin and constant babbling bring us every day.

“Goober,” “Poober,” “Big Toe Joe,” “Drooly Joe,” and “My Little Guy” are just a handful of the various cutesy monikers that I, his sappy father, bestow upon him every day. He deserves them. To paraphrase professional wrestling legend Bret “The Hitman” Hart, he’s the cutest there is, the cutest there was, and the cutest there ever will be . . . until he gets siblings.

The life of a parent is rich and rewarding, but also very trying at times. Paying bills is more difficult than when I was childless, outings with friends or family are short and infrequent, and I have less time to be alone with my wife. Proper time management is a dad’s best friend. Ditto for a mom. Perhaps it’s even more important for a mom, especially if she is to keep a tidy and welcoming home while taking care of a little one.

Furthermore, I no longer have much downtime — but that’s okay. I don’t need to spend time playing video games on my phone or going out drinking with my friends. I now have a son to hold, make silly faces at, and sing to sleep as I stumble over the lyrics of “Train in Vain” by The Clash. Now, when my son goes for a nap, I use this time to cook dinner so my wife can rest after a long day of watching Joey while I was at work. Or, I use it to earn some much-needed cash with my side job as a delivery driver. I still have time to rest, just not time to waste.

For those of you who are on the fence about whether you want kids, I can tell you with absolute certainty that they are worth the hassle. No, parenthood is not a walk in the park, and yes, it involves making all sorts of sacrifices. Having children isn’t cheap.

That said, having kids is quite comparable to becoming an openly pro-white person. Both processes add meaning to one’s life. Both require commitment, time, money, labor, and more importantly, are essential to saving our race and restoring our homelands. White people won’t exist if we don’t have kids. We also won’t exist if we don’t explicitly advocate for our own interests. This is not to say that whites need to get into a breeding war with other races to survive, but it certainly improves our chances of survival if in the future we have a large group of young supporters who aren’t just White Nationalists, but are born-and-bred advocates for our race.

So, go out there, find someone you want to spend your life with, and have babies. They will change your life and help secure the existence of our people for generations to come.

They’re also pretty damn cute.