The year 1991 was the best the Alliance has ever had. The accumulating consequences of Jewish rule made themselves felt more than ever before: the quality of life in multicultural America reached a new low, and many people who had managed to ignore our message before could ignore it no longer. The coming year promises to be even more Jewish, and many more people will find it impossible to continue pretending that things are all right.
I don't know what goes on in the heads of all the people now experiencing the benefits of democracy and equality in places like Los Angeles, Detroit, Chicago, Washington, Philadelphia, and New York, but for a growing number it must be something like this: "God damn! This is just too much. I know life in America hasn't always been this sick. What's happened? How do I get out of this insane asylum? The future no longer has any meaning. What's the point in having children? What's the point in doing anything until this godawful mess is flushed down the drain and something decent and healthy is begun in its place."
Of course, many people have been thinking like that for years, but they've just been keeping it to themselves. Now more and more of them are reaching the limit of their patience. Desperation is overcoming the pressure to conform. If we do our job of spreading our message around widely enough, such people will absorb it when they're ready for it.
Unfortunately, most of the people who respond to our message by joining the Alliance seem to justify their impatience through the mere act of joining. It's as if they're thinking: "There! Now I've done something. I'm no longer taking what the Jews dish out. Now I'm reading my membership materials, and I'm thinking rebellious thoughts."
For many of our people, to be sure, the response to our message goes beyond thinking rebellious thoughts; it also includes talking. I never did understand these orally fixated people, but I've seen them often enough. For them the value of the Alliance is that it provides an audience. They love to find other people that they can talk to all night long; that they can emote to; that they can express their frustrations to; that they can proclaim their fanaticism, their radicalism, their undying devotion to our cause to.
"God damn! This is just too much. I know life in America hasn't always been this sick. What's happened? How do I get out of this insane asylum?"
Some of these folks are trinket collectors. The proof of their seriousness lies in the fact that they can not only talk a good line about what they imagine it was like on the Eastern Front in '44, but they even have a few SS souvenirs they have bought at some flea market or stolen from some other trinket collector. Believe it or not, they will not hesitate to steal these souvenirs, these proofs of their seriousness, from each other.
One thing they will not do, however, is act -- at least not in a way calculated to advance our cause. Personal sacrifice, personal risk-taking, personal action for anything other than a personal end: these are alien concepts to them.
This is only theorizing on my part, but I'm inclined to believe that these thinkers and talkers, these non-doers for whom thinking and talking are satisfying substitutes for action, have had their grip on reality damaged by too much exposure to television. Even when they are playing make-believe revolution they have not ceased being the kind of good American consumers television teaches us to be. And whenever the revolution pushes them a little too hard or makes too big a demand on them -- whenever it begins to seem a little too real -- they will back off in a hurry, eager to return to the familiar safety of the television world they really have never left.
I suspect that when things have reached the point that the reality of what we are doing can no longer be ignored -- when it is no longer so easy to back away from the responsibilities they say they are committed to -- these folks will experience a severe trauma.
I have exaggerated a little in the preceding paragraphs. Most of our thinkers and talkers are not quite so extreme. Most of them are somewhere between what I have described and what they should be. Most would like to be more effective members. The fact remains, however, that about 98% of the Alliance's work is done by three or four percent of our members. How do we persuade the other 96 or 97 percent to accept a little more responsibility?
In the National Office our answer to this question is to force the issue of reality. It is to emphasize professionalism at the expense of just about everything else. It is to spare no effort to package our message as professionally as we can, whether the medium is an adventure novel, a magazine, an audio cassette, or a radio broadcast. It is to never tolerate sloppiness or amateurishness in our work. It is to be certain that the image that we present to the public -- and to our own members -- is always one of competence and seriousness.
I believe that ths accounts for our relatively greater growth during the past two years than that of any other organization with a roughly similar ideology: our seriousness is more apparent than is the case for the others. And where we have had shortcomings in competence, our seriousness has persuaded people that our competence would improve.
[T]he image that we present to the public -- and to our own members -- is always one of competence and seriousness.
Being perceived as more and more serious and competent -- as more and more real -- in the future may frighten away our more irrevocably fixated members, but I believe it will motivate more and more of the more mature ones to accept a share of the responsibility for our task, just as it will attract to us more and more of the kind of serious, competent people we must have if our revolution is to grow.
I also believe that the same answer applies outside of the National Office. Those of our members who have been most successful in building the Alliance are those whose utter seriousness regarding our task is most evident.