Charlottesville: The Alt-Rights #1 Vacation Destination

With the news breaking last night that Christopher Cantwell had turned himself in to face charges involved with him pepper-spraying a counter-protester, I figured that this might be a good time to tell my story of what happened at the torch rally in Charlottesville. The MSM narrative about this has, of course, been utter horseshit. Most of the lies that the MSM has been all too happy to lap up and disseminate seem to have been spread by tranny nutcase Emily Gorcenski (who is somewhat taller in person than I had expected). I intend to tell the entire story to the best of my recollection and with all of the relevant context and more than likely, a random tangent or three. So with that…

The evening began with myself and three other fellas having a beer in my hotel room discussing dinner options. One was a friend from Facebook groups we’ll call T, another from Twitter we’ll call N, and the 3rd was a friend of N’s we’ll call E. Many restaurants had closed even Friday night in anticipation of the coming shitstorm and likely out of a desire to not take any money from the evil invading Nazis. In the course of discussing options, I had a sudden realization that these restaurants were likely to have brown people working in the kitchens. Considering that N had the most obvious “fashy haircut” ever, this had me worried about what might end up in our food. We decided to go with an Asian Buffet since Chinks tend to be pretty based and it would be difficult to fuck with our food specifically.

Toward the end of the meal, as we were finishing drinks and waiting for the check, we were doing as people do and scrolling through our phones trying to reach out to other people we knew were attending the rally. It was at this moment that N allerted us that he had just received a DM from Hunter Wallace saything that a torchlit march was beginning in about half an hour at UVA. We finished our remaining beverages, hailed the chubby Chinese waitress, paid up and bolted. As we were heading over to the field which served as the muster point (I forget the name), there was an air of building exitement. I had been hoping to maybe meet up with some other folks for some drinks later, but had no idea we were going to be participating in any sort of action Friday night.

At this point, it’s worth noting that I have never been to any sort of political rally or action of any sort since abandoning the left, certainly not since becoming a thought criminal and going through the whole alienating process of becoming pro-white (one I’m sure many of you are familiar with). Seeing that mass of people congregated in that field was something I’ll not soon forget. As we got out of the car and moved closer, beginning to be able to hear the excited chatter and see the faces glowing (figuratively, torches weren’t lit yet) was electrifying. “Yo dude, look! There’s Cantwell. Oh, over there, that’s Eli.” We milled about aimlessly for a bit just taking it in.

This is the point of the story where Emily Gorcenski makes its first appearance. As I mentioned before, taller than I expected but that’ll tend to happen when you’re a dude larping as a girl. Much uglier in person too, those acne scars are really something else up close. I could say Emily was there filming but that wouldn’t quite do it justice. It would be more accurate to say that it was aggressively filming. It was getting right up in people’s faces, which I assume was for doxxing purposes. It also made sure to catch any logistical conversations between anyone important. I cannot stress that it was doing this almost entirely ignored and totally unmolested. Not once did I see anyone lay a finger on it. Some bantz may have occured but whatever. Despite what they try to claim, words are not violence.

Anyway, let’s move on to brighter matters. It was at about this point where I first had the pleasure of meeting Eli Mosley. He was searching for people who didn’t want to carry torches that could serve as security for torch-bearers. I can’t say enough good things about Eli. The man immediately struck me as intelligent and capable and the sort of dude I would be happy to trust my safety to. This was reconfirmed on Saturday in Lee and McIntire Parks but that is beyond the scope of the current discussion. Myself and the three guys I had come with immediately volunteered. Of the small group we had, he assigned two leaders based on their status as veterans (one for each side of the procession) and set us to work getting more recruits from the ranks of the torch-bearers.

At about this point, we had a minor snaffu. Someone, I can’t remember who, had the idea to have one security detail guy light a torch to serve as a muster point for the other people willing to act as security. VICE was there as well as other media. One of the flank leaders lit a torch for us to muster to and was immediately swarmed with media looking to get those first shots of the evil KKK Nazis with their torches lit. He was totally unprepared for this, perhaps had doxxing concerns and didn’t want to be famous. At this point I was heading toward his torch with a dozen or so people I had pulled of the line of torch-bearers. He was understandably shook up and asked if I would take over being the leader for his side. I said sure.

By now we had a solid amount of security volunteers but the issue was getting an accurate count so we could split up into two teams. I climbed the hill a bit to get a bird’s eye view and started counting. Time was growing short though and Eli came over yelling “Sacco! We gotta split these guys up. Use your voice!” This was when I met Sacco Vandal. What ended up happening (which was brilliant and much faster than what I was doing), was the security volunteers filed up to Sacco who shouted “Left” and “Right” alternatively until everyone had a side. Then it was just a matter of spreading everyone out evenly and we were off. By this point, the flank leader that had been mobbed by the cameras was feeling a bit better and I told him to man the front and I’d keep an eye on the back. I ended up being right near Sacco for the procession who served as general rear-guard. My opinion of him is akin to my opinion of Eli, great fucking people.

So now we’re marching. Spirits are high. Chanting about not being replaced and so forth. Bantz about Jews abound. White sharia posting abounds. Much laughter and comraderie. The only issue we had in the rear from a security standpoint was a scrawny little wigger who kept sexually harrassing one of the girls carrying a torch. You may have seen the stream where she shouted at him, “You sound like a nigger.” Media freaked out about this but she was totally accurate. A nigger is precisely what he sounded like and he had been harassing her for a good ten minutes before she said that.

Now I was totally unfamiliar with UVA before this night. Never stepped a foot there in my life. We round this corner and suddenly I’m staring at this imposing brick building with these masive white columns and this wide staircase and I’m thinking “Damn, these fucking optics are going to be amazing!” Suddenly, on my left are Brittany Venti, Baked Alaska, James Allsup, and Millenial Matt. Said hi to Matt briefly. Bullshitted with James for a few minutes (excellent dude, had the pleasure of doing this again on Saturday, which is also when I finally got to meet Bryden). Baked and Venti seemed busy. I think at one point Sacco might have broken off to go put the fear of God in that wigger kid and run him off once and for all, although it may have been someone else. Fuck that kid anyway!

So now we’re getting to the interesting part. After heading up the steps on our side of the building, the path narrowed significantly to get around it, and then the steps you come down on the opposite side of the building lead you directly to the Jefferson statue. I’m trying to keep my head on a swivel as I am acting as security, but I’m not going to lie in saying that I might have been momentarily distracted by the sheer visual grandeur of the scene. Regardless, nothing had happened yet so no harm no foul. As we were heading down the steps to the statue, you could see Gorcenski’s pathetic little band of junkies and various other freaks surround the statue. They were shouting stuff and you could see this burning hatred in their faces. Our guys were saying shit back of course, but were laughing and you could tell they just thought these people were a joke (typical relationship between us… virgin angry Antifa vs. good-humored Chad white nationalist).

A few important points to make here before I tell you about the actual scuffle:
1) There was a police presence here, albeit a tiny one. With a larger more proactive one, no scuffle needed to occur at all.
2) Gorcenski and its crew of freaks were MASSIVELY outnumbered. All they had to do was use common sense and walk away.
3) The fucking smell on these people. I know you’ve heard it on every podcast already but I’d be remiss not to mention it. I used to wrestle. Spent plenty of time in rank locker rooms. Nothing like spending any time near these filthy commies. It’s unreal.

I was standing a few steps up to keep a bird’s eye view. From the best I could discern, which was pretty well considering my vantage point and the torchlight, the scuffle began when the Antifa surrounding the base of the statue started spraying. The mist could be seen moving away from the statue at the center into the crowd, not vice versa. If anyone can show me video that suggests otherwise, I’d sure as heck watch it but I know what I saw. When they started spraying, our guys, who weren’t anticipating violence and didn’t have spray at the ready, started punching. I jumped down off the steps to enter the fray on our side but it was madness and I couldn’t even tell who to hit or not hit. The only Antifa I touched was a male (I think, who really knows with these people) who was being allowed to flee through our ranks and decided to take a pot-shot as he passed. His missed and hit the area where my neck meets my shoulder. I turned and tagged him on the chin at which point he reeled around into one of our dudes who blasted him in the face with spray sending him running off for good. It was hilarious.

As to the Cantwell situation, the amount of restraint I watched that man excercise is ridiculous. You literally HAD TO excercise crazy amounts of restraint to avoid hitting your own allies. It was a brawl. It happened really quickly and there were so many people involved. I saw neither him, nor anyone else on our side do anything that couldn’t be reasonably interpreted as self defense, especially in the midst of such chaos. I wonder how many weapons Antifa took from us as war trophies from that evening? Have they published any photos of any? Did we wield anything other than pepper spray? They sure did. One of the fellas with me, E, still has a collapsible metal baton that he literally wrenched out of a female Antifa’s hand as she was swinging it at Cantwell.

Shortly after the scuffle, the cops gassed the whole area and dispersed everybody. That Emily creature was crying. Cantwell, shirtless and covered in a rash from the mace he endured, was being treated by the cops as Azzmodor sat with him. Antifa bolted. We made it back to the car safe and sound and went back to the hotel to get drunk. It was a great night. I got to meet a lot of people I admire. Emily was in people’s faces filming throughout the entire march entirely unmolested. To assert that we got to the statue and just went crazy on these people unprovoked is utterly ridiculous. They stupidly stayed in the face of way bigger numbers. They stupidly started a fight. The results were utterly predictable and considerably less cruel than they could have been.

To be quite honest, although it sucks for him, Cantwell’s trial will facilitate the facts coming out that will vindicate our side of the story from that night. Of that much I am certain. Here’s to hoping some lawsuits do the same to expose the false narratives from Saturday and our movement gets a cash infusion from the taxpayers of both Charlottesville and the Commonwealth of Virginia. Hail Victory!

2 Comments

  1. WHEN AN ARTICLE HAS TWO EXAMPLES OF “ILLITERACY” IN ITS HEADLINE ALONE, THEN YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE DEALING WITH AN ILLITERATE WRITER. “LITERACY,” AFTER ALL, MEANS NOT MERELY THE ABILITY TO READ WELL…BUT ALSO THE CAPACITY TO WRITE WELL.

    FIRST, THIS ARTICLE’S HEADLINE MISSPELLS “CHARLOTTESVILLE” AS “CHARELOTTESVILLE.” SECOND, IT LEAVES OUT A NECESSARY APOSTROPHE, FALSELY RENDERING “THE ALT-RIGHT’S #1…” AS “THE ALT-RIGHTS #1…”

    GO BACK AND TAKE SOME REMEDIAL FRESHMAN COMPOSITION CLASSES! THEN…LEARN HOW TO EDIT IN ADDITION TO LEARNING HOW TO WRITE.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*