The odds that I will go out of this life with an explosive vest and a lengthy manifesto increase day after day. Not soon, but someday.

The main thing holding me back at this point is the fact my parents, Peggy, and the cats are still around. If that were ever to change, I just might have to, say, stroll into the Russian Embassy or a Identity Evropa meeting and discorporate very very quickly and forcibly one of these days.

Somebody's gotta do it. And I never thought it would be me, but the bulwark values that prevented me have been shat upon so often in the course of the last six years, the me that didn't have a Sixty Shallow Graves list seems unrecognizable.

I wish I could even say I was tired of feeling so fucking angry, but I'm really just getting started. If we had our own real Baader-Meinhoff or Weathermen instead of just Antifa, I'd be funding them hand over fist. But (now that I have a little cash) I'd be funding Antifa if I knew where to send the checks. :)

Shit, I wish we would embrace cyberterrorism. I could just fund that and nobody would have to get hurt directly. And I would fund the shit out of it. Surely with the diversity of skills in our various communities, we've got SOMEONE who can hit these people where it really hurts. Like their private texts. *coughgaetzcough*