Monday, March 11, 2024

THE SHADOW SAILOR GOES FULL ... RETREAT

  by Ray Jason




 This is fiction … or is it?

 

                                     *******


This time the Shadow Sailor found me.


Usually, I spot him hidden away in some rarely visited cove here in The Archipelago of Bliss. Although his modest 42-foot sailboat is over 30 years old, he keeps her in very good shape. Her only unusual features are a large array of solar panels and a satellite communications dome.


When I first met him, I asked him about these incongruities. Since he barely knew me, he told me that he was an avid “gamer” and was constantly competing via the Internet with opponents scattered all around the world.


Later, when I had earned his trust, he revealed the true reason for his over-sized communication package. He was dedicating himself to trying to unravel “How the world REALLY works.” The SatCom system allowed him to do his research via the World Wide Web from very remote anchorages and even from the middle of the ocean.


He is a man of no country, but he has visited many … more than many. He enters and departs quietly … and unofficially. He is a master at finding hidden spots where the authorities seldom visit. However, although he lives in the Shadows, his life is not gray and dreary and unhappy. He has managed to battle The System without letting the frustration of that combat poison him.


 

                                                   *******


I was alone in a quiet bay when he arrived. As he was setting his anchor, I went topside and waved to him. He motioned for me to come over and visit. My dinghy was already in the water and after I saw him dig in his hook and properly back down on it, I rowed over.


Having just finished wrapping up a couple of bacon, egg and cheese breakfast burritos for myself, I decided to share one of them with him. Climbing aboard, I immediately noticed something different about him, but could not immediately decipher what it was.


As we ate, I realized that he seemed more energized and resolute than he normally is. This was noteworthy, since anyone who had sculpted such a contrary-to-ordinary and semi-dangerous life, was already very focused and determined.


He has an old-fashioned mechanical juicer and he prepared us some orange juice with a squeeze of lime and suggested we go topside. Sitting in the shade of his cockpit awning, he surprised me by pulling a small bottle of rum from his pocket.


He laughed as he noted that it was a little early in the day, but he had something that he wanted to celebrate and commemorate. Any mid-morning reluctance that I may have had, vanished when he told me that he had spent three days searching for me in the archipelago, so that he could share this announcement with me.


We clinked our glasses together and he said, “To new and long-lasting beginnings.” This was clearly an unusual and thought-provoking toast, and I was looking forward to his explanation.


"I am about to begin a bold, new phase of my Life’s Voyage,” he began. This was quite a statement coming from someone who had already arrived and departed from hundreds of ports all around the world.


You know that I believe that the ideal finale to my Life would be a posthumous book in which I share the results of my Quest to understand how the world really works?”


"Of course. It’s hard to forget a goal like that.”


"Well, that damned Gemini AI controversy a few weeks ago shook me to my core. I have long recognized that one of the major goals of the Elites is White Replacement, but I suddenly realized that their plan is even more repellent than that. The don’t just want to replace us, they want to erase us.


These Malignant Overlords, as you so charmingly describe them, have such a grip on narrative control and thus on human perception, that they truly think they can vaporize history. Their Hubris persuades them that they can con future generations into believing that Wakanda is reality and not a movie.


Plus, if they succeed in imposing an Internet 2.0, which would require a digital I.D. to participate, they will be able to remove any dissenters from the World Wide Web. Then Orwell’s dark vision of the Ministry of Truth becomes an everyday reality. They will obliterate the Past, distort the Present and control the Future.”


"Damn,” I replied, “That is a very black-pilled perspective. Does this mean that you will change your plans about only publishing your insights after your death? And more importantly, might you now be willing to join me on the Cyber Watchtowers, trying to alert people to the grim future that is being planned for Humanity?”

 

"Initially, that was my plan. We have both witnessed the relentless demonization of the White Race for a decade now. They blame us for Slavery even though we did not begin it … and were the first group that voluntarily ended it.


They destroy statues of white heroes who created systems of government and law that benefit billions of people everywhere. They scream that we are Racist even as they replace Meritocracy with anti-White racial quotas in every part of Society.”


The Shadow Sailor paused at this point and took a slow sip from his drink. He pointed to the South and said that he was headed there. I assumed that he meant the South Pacific, but I was wrong. When he began to explain his amazing plan, I remembered how energized and determined he seemed when I saw him an hour earlier. Then he outlined his new Quest.

 

"I am weary of Words and will embrace Action. My mission … my warrant … if you will … is to insure that I will stand as one against the erasure of thousands of years of White Achievement.


I have long admired your Sea Gypsy Tribe concept, but as you clearly know, I am not a “joiner.” Instead, I will start my own one family Tribe. I will sail to one of the most remote, empty, harsh but exquisitely beautiful spots on Planet Earth. I will sail to Patagonia.


I will seek and find a wife. We will have strong and smart children and learn to survive and flourish in that difficult and dangerous environment. After all, many people believe that the catalyst for the success of our white ancestors was their ability to adapt to the brutal challenges of the high latitudes.


But beyond surviving, my family will dedicate themselves to conserving. While the Malignant Overlords do their best to control information and erase our RACE, I will be using my satellite communication system to silently outsmart them. We will create both a digital and paper archive. This will become a historical cornucopia … a Rosetta Stone that can be passed along far into the future.”


I was so startled by these revelations that I did not realize that he had stopped talking. I have successfully sailed across the Northwest Passage, and so I am intimately familiar with the difficulties and dangers of mixing ice and water.


When I asked him if he wasn’t worried about getting iced-in during the winter, he said that unlike the Arctic there is plenty of navigable water all year round in Chile. Indeed, it is even sunnier at that time with many more blue sky days.


I didn’t spend much time trying to discourage him from his bold endeavor. Instead, we dedicated that gorgeous day to getting mildly drunk and laughing about our strange and eccentric Life Paths.


                                                  *******


That was a week ago. I wonder if he made it through the Canal yet. But I wonder even more about one sentence that had deeply pierced me. He had said that he was “weary of words and wanted to embrace action.”


Was it also time for me to shift away from “just words?” 

 

And, far more importantly, when would my Brethren realize that when your Enemy wants to erase your racial memory, that Enemy cannot be vanquished with just words!