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"As vile as voting is, I still think representative government is a reasonable way to make decisions on street names and dog catchers, as long as you limit residency and citizenship to one race only -- yours -- and 1) limit the franchise to those of good quality and character, and 2) limit the power of the legislature to needful areas only. There should be over-arching principles, though, not subject to revision except by some kind of High Council. The purpose of the society needs to be set out in biological terms: preservation and improvement of the race; a kind of conscious evolution, carried out with caution and deep respect for natural evolution and the character it has given us." - Kevin Alfred Strom

How They Steal Our Wealth, part 1

Our enemies have created a fraudulent system that pays them — without working — an ever-increasing cut of the wealth produced by honest men. One of our goals is to expose and then put a stop to this crime.

American Dissident Voices broadcast of June 16, 2018

by Kevin Alfred Strom

HONEST MEN do useful work, and increase the well-being of themselves, their families, and the entire race when they do so. Dishonest men game the system so they can take the wealth which others have created without working. A dishonest White man might sell short-weighted goods to a few dozen or even hundreds of men. A dishonest gypsy gang in a big city might pick a hundred pockets every day. But only the Jewish power structure has had the cunning and audacity — and the downright heartless evil — to create an entire financial system that cheats every single person — in nations all across the Earth — every day for centuries on end. For that is what we are facing; that is what steals our time and keeps us slaving for our faceless masters; that is what prevents us from building up the wealth and value we have created; that is what funds our genocide and dispossession — and that is also, once it is exposed, what can awaken our sleeping kinsmen to their peril and inspire them to fight for their families and their future. For the awakened White giant will not tolerate such shackles forever.

One of the best explanations of this, the greatest swindle of all time — an explanation that can open the eyes of all who hear it — is a fascinating little parable titled The Money Myth Exploded, published in 1967 by The Institute of Political Action in Rougemont, Quebec and translated into English by Earl Massecar. It was, until it was republished by Racial Idealism earlier this year, rather hard to find. I have slightly edited and adapted it for radio and for modern audiences and am proud to present it this week as “How They Steal Our Wealth, part 1,” right here on American Dissident Voices. Listen:

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1. Shipwreck Survivors

AN EXPLOSION had blown their ship apart. Each one grasped the first bit of wreckage that came to hand. And when it was over, there were five left, five huddled on a raft which the waves carried along at their will. As for the other victims of the disaster, there was no sign of them.

Hour after long hour their eyes searched the horizon. Would some passing ship sight them? Would their make-shift raft find its way to some friendly shore?

Suddenly a cry rang out: “Land! Look! Over there, in the direction the waves are carrying us!”

And as the vague silhouette proved itself to be, in fact, the outline of a shore, the figures on the raft danced with joy.

There were five of them. There was Frank, the carpenter, big and energetic. It was he who had first cried, “Land!”

Then Paul, a farmer. You can see him, front and left in the picture, on his knees, one hand against the floor, the other gripping the mast of the raft.

Next is Jim, an animal breeder; he’s the one in the striped pants, kneeling and gazing in the direction of land.

Then there is Harry, an agriculturist, a little on the stout side, seated on a trunk salvaged from the wreck.

And finally Tom, a prospector and a mineralogist; he is the merry fellow standing in the rear of the picture with his hand on the carpenter’s shoulder.

2. A Providential Island

To our five men, setting foot on land was like returning to life from the grave.

When they had dried and warmed themselves, their first impulse was to explore this little island on to which they had been cast, far from civilization.

A quick survey was sufficient to raise their spirit. The island was not a barren rock. True enough, they were the only men on it at the moment.

The island had all that was needful for life.

But judging from the herds of semi-domesticated animals they encountered, there must have been men here at some time before them. Jim, the animal breeder, was sure he could completely domesticate them and put them to good service.

Paul found the island’s soil, for the most part, to be quite suitable for cultivation.

Harry discovered some fruit trees which, if properly tended, would give good harvests.

Most important were the large stands of timber embracing many types of wood. Frank, without too much difficulty, would be able to build houses for the little community.

As for Tom, the prospector, well, the rock formations of the island showed signs of rich mineral deposits. Lacking the tools, Tom still felt his ingenuity and initiative could produce metals from the ores.

So each could serve the common good with his special talent. All agreed to call the place Salvation Island. All gave thanks to Providence for the reasonably happy ending to what could have been stark tragedy.

3. True Wealth

Here are the men at work.

The carpenter builds houses and makes furniture. At first they find their food where they can. But soon the fields are tilled and seeded, and the farmer has his crops.

As season followed season, this island, this heritage of the five men, Salvation Island, became richer and richer.

Its wealth was not that of gold or of paper banknotes, but one of true value; a wealth of food and clothing and shelter, of all the things to meet human needs.

Each man worked at his own trade. Whatever surpluses he might have of his own produce, he exchanged for the surplus products of the others.

Life wasn’t always as smooth and complete as they could have wished it to be. They lacked many of the things to which they had been accustomed in civilization. But their lot could have been a great deal worse.

Besides, back home, all had lived through a terrible economic depression. They still remembered the empty bellies side by side with stores crammed with food.

At least, on Salvation Island, they weren’t forced to see the things they needed rot before their eyes. And taxes were unknown here. Nor did they live in constant fear of repossession or foreclosure on what they had worked their entire lives for. Here on Salvation Island, good years or bad, what they had was secure. They worked hard but at least they could enjoy the fruits of their toil.

So they developed the island, thanking God and hoping for the day of reunion with their families, and still in possession of life and health, those two greatest of blessings.

4. A Serious Inconvenience

Our men often got together to talk over their affairs. Under the simple economic system which had developed, one thing was beginning to bother them more and more; they had no form of money. Barter, the direct exchange of goods for goods, had its drawbacks. The products to be exchanged were not always at hand when a trade was discussed. For example, wood delivered to the farmer in winter could not be paid for in potatoes until six months later.

Sometimes one man might have an article of considerable size which he wished to exchange for a number of smaller articles produced by different men at different times.

All this complicated business and trade laid a heavy burden on the memory. With a monetary system, however, each one could sell his products to the others for money. With this money he could buy from the others the things he wanted, when he wished and when they were available.

It was agreed that a system of money would indeed be very convenient. But none of them knew how to set up such a system. They knew how to produce true wealth — goods. But how to produce money, the symbol of this wealth, was something quite beyond them. They were ignorant of the origin of money, and, needing it, they didn’t know how to produce it. Certainly, many men of education would have been in the same boat; and the government leaders back home know little or nothing of the origin of money either — that’s what makes them eternal victims of scheming scoundrels.

5. Arrival of a Refugee

One evening when our boys were sitting on the beach going over their problem for the hundredth time, they suddenly saw approaching a small boat with a solitary man at the oars.

They learned that he was a refugee from from a country torn by war and “hate.” Along with other emigrants, he had boarded a ship bound for America, but a storm had driven their ship onto a reef. He was the only survivor of the wreck, he said. His name was Abraham Glucksterlingmann. They could remember only his first name.

Delighted to have a new companion, they provided him with the best they had and took him on an inspection tour of the colony.

“Even though we’re lost and cut off from the rest of the world,” they told him, “we haven’t too much to complain about. The Earth and the forest are good to us. We lack only one thing — money. That would make it easier for us to exchange our products.”

“Well, you can thank Providence,” replied Abraham, “because I am a banker and in no time at all I’ll set up a system of money guaranteed to satisfy you. Then you’ll have everything that people in civilization have.”

A banker! . . . A BANKER! . . . An angel coming down out of the clouds couldn’t have inspired more reverence and respect in our men. For, after all, are we not accustomed, we people in civilization, to genuflect before bankers, those men who control the life-blood of finance?

6. Civilization’s God

“Mr. Abraham, as our banker, your only occupation on this island will be to look after our money; no manual labor.”

“I shall, like every other banker, carry out to complete satisfaction my task of forging the community’s prosperity.”

“Mr. Abraham, we’re going to build you a house that will be in keeping with your dignity as a banker. But in the meantime, do you mind if we lodge you in the building we use for our get-togethers?”

“That will suit me, my friends. But first of all, unload the boat. There’s paper and a printing press, complete with ink and type; and there’s a little barrel which I exhort you to treat with the greatest care.”

They unloaded everything. The small barrel aroused intense curiosity in our good fellows.

“This barrel,” Abraham announced, “contains treasure beyond dreams. It is full of . . . gold!”

Full of gold! The five all but swooned. The god of civilization here on Salvation Island? The yellow god, always hidden, yet terrible in its power; whose presence or absence or slightest caprice could decide the very fate of all the civilized nations!

“Gold! Mr. Abraham, you are indeed a great banker!”

“Oh august majesty! oh honorable Abraham! great high priest of the god, gold! accept our humble homage and receive our oaths of fealty.”

“Yes, my friends, gold enough for a continent. But gold is not for circulation. Gold must be hidden. Gold is the soul of healthy money, and the soul is always invisible. But I’ll explain all that when you receive your first supply of money.”

Abe said his barrel was full of it.

* * *

How will Abraham make good on his promises to bring the wonders of money to the people on Salvation Island? What does the gold in the barrel have to do with making the island more prosperous? How can one man with a printing press — and the high esteem and confidence of his fellows — make wealth appear without any labor? Why was Abraham a refugee in the first place?

Be sure to be with us next week to find out, when we’ll continue our story with part 2 of “How They Steal Our Wealth” right here on American Dissident Voices.

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You’ve been listening to American Dissident Voices, the radio program of the National Alliance. The National Alliance is working to educate White men and women around the world as to the nature of the reality we must face — and organizing our people to ensure our survival and advancement. We need your help to continue. Please send the largest contribution you can afford to National Alliance, Box 172, Laurel Bloomery, TN 37680 USA. You can also help us by visiting natall.com/donate. Make your life count.  Once again, our postal address is Box 172, Laurel Bloomery, TN 37680 USA. Until next week, this is Kevin Alfred Strom reminding you to keep on thinking free.