American normies hate terrorists

if the people who stir up the agitprop and make all of our other actions ineffective are gone, they can't agitprop themselves out of their own deaths.

what the normie brain hates, in the sense that it is what most prevents it from acting like a normie, is being shocked out of its circumstances. every American, i damn well hope, intuitively understands the current system is completely and irrevocably fucked, and it can be really argued, though i personally don't want to, that those who still don't get it never will and are forever a slave army even against peacable means.

people who these Americans dislike, overtly or covertly, suddenly disappearing by the tens or hundreds, while organizations like Patriot Front (note i said like Patriot Front, i don't know what to think of them specifically yet) advertise for a new America, without having to publicly affiliate themselves with these disappearances at all, would force anyone with more braincells than the dumbest TDS sufferer to reconsider the situation.

nowhere am i saying to make it public, to make it ultraviolent, to not care about collateral, to make it terrorism. i'm saying that if the enemy's methods of disappearing us work, then perhaps we should learn a little.

or at the very least, learn of Christ and martyrdom, so that our pacifist deaths have a little more purpose than just another useless loss of dissident life. but Christ wouldn't want us to die for no reason anyway.

And how we burned in the camps later, thinking: What would things have been like if every Security operative, when he went out at night to make an arrest, had been uncertain whether he would return alive and had to say good-bye to his family? Or if, during periods of mass arrests, as for example in Leningrad, when they arrested a quarter of the entire city, people had not simply sat there in their lairs, paling with terror at every bang of the downstairs door and at every step on the staircase, but had understood that they had nothing left to lose and had boldly set up in the downstairs hall an ambush of half a dozen people with axes, hammers, pokers, or whatever else was at hand? After all, you knew ahead of time that those bluecaps were out at night for no good purpose. And you could be sure ahead of time that you’d be cracking the skull of a cutthroat. Or what about the Black Maria sitting out there on the street with one lonely chauffeur — what if it had been driven off or its tires spiked? The Organs would very quickly have suffered a shortage of officers and transport and, notwithstanding all of Stalin’s thirst, the cursed machine would have ground to a halt! If… If… We didn’t love freedom enough.