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That "feel" of the rise of Man as you put it, while it may seem to be extinguished is in fact still ever present within you. It is subdued and understandably so, the situation seeming ever dire as the parasite continues it's unending gorging of money and blood. However, despite the grasp of the semetic manipulators being vast, it is also quite tenuous. It seeks control, more so than it currently has and grows more rabid with each passing day. One must remember however a man tortured and brutalised day after day will only endure so much. They wish us fattened and weak, the carrot of unending consumption and demoralising media combined with the stick of tearing out the tongues of Men who speak against them, these tools are slowly being eroded as the civilisation they infested begins to buckle, the fetid corruption making it brittle and unwieldy. There always comes a point where a Man will rise, take the stick from the parasites hand, break it over his knee and beat his opponent with the remains. People are noticing the cracks slowly, at least in my view, causing one of two reactions; a pursuit for truth or a pursuit for comfort, said comfort being self destructive and a mere illusion. We few here, we understand our history, our people and our nature. We steel ourselves because we have to lest the shadow consume us, the yearning for a rise from the ashes dim but ever present. However a true rise cannot occur until the stick is taken from the parasite, it will try and distract with changing the carrot from time to time but they will not change from their goal thus nor shall we.
I would also point you to our people as a sign that a rise is not merely needed but inevitable by both our words and actions. Look upon what they have become, satiating themselves, numbing themselves to escape the horrifying miasma that has been created. The young crying out for a future, for a dream that was promised them by their grand parents only to be betrayed and lost to nihilism and darkness. Every blade ran across a vein in a moment of misery, every soul ending their own suffering in drugs and degeneracy, every vice that they use to numb the pain, it is a cry for help, a cry for a future they have been denied, the despair and sorrow unending. It falls to *us* to give them back that future. It is a burden to bear, a weight that tests the Will of every Man that carries it but it is a burden we carry none the less for no one else can. We must be the ones to clear the path for the Rise of our people, to give what has been denied by leading by example and inspiring them to something greater. When it all collapses, and rest assured it will for no amount of propping up can maintain it, it must be us who raises our banners among the ruins, who lights the path beyond leading our people from the death and degeneration surrounding us in the gloaming twilight of this era. Each step, each word spoken in resistance to this grim world, is a step towards us rising. *We* are the speartip of that rising, take heart in your brothers and find faith in your blood.