They Died for Nothing

By Padraig Martin for Identity Dixie

This Memorial Day, families throughout the United States will celebrate the unofficial opening of summer.  Televisions and radio advertisements will gleefully promote a variety of Memorial Day related sales.  Pools will reopen in formerly colder climates.  Americans will gorge on hot dogs, hamburgers, and ice cream.  Memorial Day is generally one of those happy-go-lucky holidays, whereby individuals drink beer, play cornhole, and simply forget the original purpose of the holiday: to remember the brave men and women who paid the ultimate sacrifice ostensibly for our freedom.  Whereas Americans can be somewhat forgiven for their consumer driven collective amnesia regarding the holiday, that which is inexcusable is far more profound than a careless attitude toward a somber date.  Americans have surrendered everything for which those brave men laid down their lives.  Every American serviceman for whom Memorial Day is designed literally died for nothing.

This has nothing to do with fat people stuffing their faces.  This has everything to do with American White people surrendering their civilization.  As a group, we have been conquered without a fight.

Whether I believe that the Union was wrong in 1861 and 1941 is irrelevant.  The fact is, those who served truly believed that they were dying for a cause bigger than themselves – the preservation of Constitutional values and freedoms.  Do I believe the Confederacy was the true defender of the original Constitutional Republic?  Absolutely.  Do I believe the United States fought the wrong enemy from 1942-1945 in Europe?  Unequivocally.  But each man that donned a uniform, whether they were drafted or duped, still sought to protect a country they sincerely believed was the best on earth.  They honestly felt that the United States was the pinnacle of Western Civilization and they sought to preserve her in perpetuity.  Men who offer their lives for ideals are noble.  That should not be taken away from them.  What has been taken from them is the ideal itself.

Those who died in battle passed onto their citizen descendants an obligation to preserve the country.  Those citizen descendants failed.  With each generation, the collective suicide of White Americans has been facilitated by their own empathy and narcissistic need for adulation – even if those cheering on their suicide are doing so for obvious, self-serving reasons.  Facebook “likes” and Twitter “retweets” are more important to White Americans than conserving the cultural integrity that laid the foundation for their comfort.  They celebrate the birth of a black Marxist rapist in January.  They apply “coexist” stickers to their rear windshields, utilizing symbolism that directly contradicts the very values of their ancestors.  They facilitate the mass invasion of brown-skinned migrants by frequenting establishments that rely on cheap labor.  White Americans walk into Walmart wearing football jerseys with mandingo names across their backs, so they can purchase cheap Chinese manufactured goods and meat processed by illegal aliens in order to celebrate primarily White Americans who died in foreign wars.  The absurd contradictions are mind blowing.

Yet here we are in 21st Century America.  The White men who died in preceding generations could never envision a point of time in which transvestites chose their pronouns.  They would not sit at the same lunch counter as a black man, let alone wear his name emblazoned across their bodies.  They could not conceive of a country that would willingly outsource its manufacturing to Chinamen.  The men who died would have refused to allow their children to race mix.  Modern American Whites, addicted to social acceptance, shudder at such fundamental beliefs held by the “patriotic dead” whom they pretend to remember on Memorial Day.  Those beliefs, however, were common throughout the United States as recently as thirty years ago.

The tragedy of Memorial Day is that we collectively threw it all away.  We allowed homosexual freaks to fully dismantle our sense of decorum, dignity, and our relationship with God.  Next month, while they march around in leather outfits and Monkey Pox, celebrating the “pride” that goeth before the fall, White Americans to whom the country was gifted by blood sacrifices on foreign soil will simply shrug.  If they call out the ostentatious displays of immorality, they risk losing their jobs – so they remain silent cowards.

While blacks and Marxists burned entire cities down in 2020, very few Whites did anything to stop them.  Many joined the ranks and pledged solidarity with BLM hashtags, Marxist fists, and other ridiculous iconography on their social media profiles.  Imagine a White American in 1944, who stormed an obscure beach in France through a hail of bullets, allowing barbaric hordes to run violently rampant throughout his own country.  It would not have happened.  He certainly would not have taken a knee, like the police officers around the country who dutifully showed their subordination to their new masters.

Meanwhile, as the border is literally invaded by thousands of locusts daily, White Americans lament the lack of control, but never bother to simply ask the waiter at Applebee’s, “Who works in your kitchen?”  Tacit acceptance of mass illegal immigration is still acceptance.  This holds true, even if the reason to accept the cultural corrosion of mass migration is to buy a cheaper cheeseburger.

In totality, White Americans do not deserve Memorial Day.  They have squandered the legacy of better men.  Their replacement rapidly becomes inevitable and yet they comply.  Once upon a time, the United States was a backwater.  It was an untamed forest, filled with savages and dangerous creatures.  It was conquered by the sheer grit of a brave few.  It was maintained by subsequent generations who knew what had been sacrificed to make the country what they deeply believed it was destined to be.  It was a White country, founded on European ideals, and built by White ingenuity.  In two generations, it was thrown away with spineless abandon.  Someday, in the not-too-distant future, Memorial Day will be a celebration of blacks and browns dancing on the graves of the White race.  But until then, enjoy your hotdogs.

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