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It's the day after Christmas and I'm feeling relaxed. My children and wife are all happy and everyone seems pleased with how the day went down. I'm feeling full of a Christmas dinner prepped and cooked by my Mother-in-law, exquisite cooking from an exquisite lady. Even myself, who's confined myself to living vicariously through the joy of others on this fine celebration of the birth of our Lord received a surprise pair of spring-loaded Klein pliers under the tree. Life is good.

Although, one cannot rest. Not today, not ever. While my kids enjoy the time off off with their sleds and puzzles, my wife has taken to cleaning the house... I dwell. This year has been the most concerning year of my life... Have I grown wiser, or, has the enemy grown more brazen? Maybe we've always resided under the boot of tyrants but only now can I feel the weight of the foot against my back. With great haste, I worry. Have I made the proper preparations? To defend my family in this time of great dilemma? Defend them from the faggots, kikes, niggers, street-shitters, camel-jockeys and empowered women that have taken residence as a cancer on our once great society? Does my memory deceive me? Has our society always been a duplicitous wretch but only now, after years of mold growing beneath the floorboards and in the walls is the house falling apart? Is the very structure that I was raised within making me ill with her rotten air?

Christmas tradition is that of a celebration of Christ. To hear people speak of a "new Christmas tradition" is surely a glorification of kikes exploiting Christians for monetary gain. That's why you have the classic old movies and then a bunch of kike-infected noise. That's it. Noise. Noise. Noise.

Observations this year? The kike holiday was more prevalent then ever. Normalized. I saw more octokike-candelabras this year then my whole life combined. Although, I also felt more connected to people this year then ever before. Racial awareness is making a comeback in a big way. Women are regretting ever leaving the homelife. I see my empowered female friends of old, depressed without children and watching their attractive youth from the rearview of their lives: Regret. I hear people openly talk about niggers and jews regularly now, a sign of a shifting time. My skies are full of chemicals. My food is fresh.

I don't know what the future holds Goats, I wish I did but I do know one thing is almost guaranteed: This is likely the last year we can openly convene in a space like this and although it brings me great sadness to imagine a world without you faggots... It brings me hope to see our influence spreading into the open air. This year, I expect each and every one of you to work even more diligently against the tyrannical machine that's steamrolling our culture and trying to abscond our community. If we can reconnect next Christmas, if our space isn't completely crippled, I expect the callouses on your hands to be thicker, your families to be bigger and your shoulders to broader.

Merry Christmas Faggots. Happy New Year. Those of you that actually work for a better future and don't just sit behind a keyboard crying about a broken present... We'll walk together.