What are These Lesbians Doing in My Examination of My Adolescence?

Andrew Anglin
Daily Stormer
June 30, 2018

I’m gonna Millennial Post.

We do things like this on the weekend at the Daily Stormer.

Things like Millennial Posting.

This will be interesting to the younger readers, perhaps. Hopefully your experiences are better. I am imagine they are better in some ways and worse in others.

I think my own personal experiences are very similar to those of a lot of our millennial readers. I grew up in an all white area. There was wealth around. No one was wanting for anything. In adolescence, there were also a lot of drugs around. No one was wanting for those either. What there wasn’t much of was parental guidance or adult oversight.

This was before the internet was really a thing. I turned 15 in the year 1999. People were still getting AOL “100 free hours” discs in the mail.

Back in 1999, kids were partying like it was 1999.

There wasn’t any internet porn. Or text messages.

So the experiences of teenage sexual development, the loss of sexual innocence as it were, were presumably significantly different than those these days. I stopped going to high school in 1999 (I did graduate eventually, on time, getting all my credits from a community college). A lot of people stopped going, or would just go sometimes, or would stay up all night drinking and doing drugs and go to school the next morning and sleep after school. Or during.

This was before Tinder, you understand. So everyone was getting laid, unless they were a nerd. And the experiences of sex and drugs, in that hyper-hormonal period, were very intense. Things were in some ways realer before hyperreality. Or maybe I just remember it that way.

It is incredible, looking back, that all of this was allowed to happen like it did in what was ultimately one of the most affluent living situations that anyone had ever lived in in all of human history: 90s suburbia.

Part of developing as a human being – possibly the most important part – is to go back through your life and examine the experiences of your life, without emotion, to understand where you were and why you did the things you did. Most people, of course, close off entire parts of their life.

But I go back. I look at these things. I want to understand them.

The music was a big part of all of it. Despite the claims of my Wikipedia page, I do not remember listening to the Dead Kennedys, but rather a lot of weird indie rock – 90s Modest Mouse and Mountain Goats were favorites.

Bright Eyes, Elliot Smith and other more depressive indie stuff was very popular with certain kids hanging around.

Those certainly embodied the meaninglessness and desperation. The nihilism that we were all swimming in, that was intensified and somehow given deeper meaning – which it didn’t deserve – by the hormones of those years.

There was the stuff that was a little bit older getting played too. Gen X stuff. Nirvana in particular. The MTV unplugged album must have been played a billion times in cars I rode in filled up with marijuana smoke, driving around suburban streets in mid-afternoon.

The same with Radiohead’s “The Bends.”

The Violent Femmes greatest hits albums also got played so many times it made me sick. Not really my thing, even at the time. Although I did like “American Music.” I can admit that now.

But I don’t like it anymore.

One thing I really ended up caring about – almost as much as Modest Mouse’s “Lonesome Crowded West” – was even older stuff I found on hidden basement vinyl, and eventually on cassette tape in campus record stores. The 70s and 80s New Wave stuff I liked a lot. I liked Echo and the Bunnymen and Psychedelic Furs. I still do.

The John Hughs movies that had these songs were influential on me as well. As they represented this lighter, safer, purer version of my own thing. The fact that John Hughs once said “when you’re 16, you’re more serious than you’ll ever be” is relevant here.

I turned 16 in the year 2000.

My boomer parents’ record collection had some 80s stuff, which I believe must have gotten in there by accident. Mostly it was boomer rock – “classic rock” – which I couldn’t and still cannot tolerate. But it had 70s country music, which I could get into. Emmylou Harris was one I loved and still do.

And Gram Parsons (don’t listen him anymore – too depressing).

And then I found some more obscure 70s and 80s country-folk music on used cassette tapes in record stores that really had an effect.

I liked Steve Earle.

And I very much identified with Townes Van Zandt, who was his mentor. Some of the darkest music ever made.

He wrote “Pancho and Lefty,” made famous – in an absurdly lighter form – by Willie and Merle.

He wrote much about running away from things you love.

I became somewhat fixated on him. I read a biography, back in the days before you could just skim a Wikipedia page. From a wealthy oil family, he was diagnosed with schizophrenia as a teenager and subjected to electroconvulsive therapy, which erased all of his childhood memories. When he was in college, he purposefully fell from a third floor building onto the street, right on his back. Surviving for some reason.

He ended up being a junkie folk singer, dropping out of the Nashville scene because he thought it was soulless. He ended up living in a shack for a decade, despite the fact that he was better than any songwriter of the time, objectively. He became a Christian in the 90s and getting clean only to die a few years later from health problems related to the decades of hard living.

He wrote some redemption songs before he died.

Steve Earle wrote a song about him after he died. It was about him running away from Fort Worth, his hometown.

And that brings us to the thing.

Steve Earle had a son, who is two years older than me. A millennial. He is named Justin Townes Earle.

He started recording in 2007, when I was already in my 20s and not hanging around my hometown or the United States, and tending not to listen to any of this music. Because I don’t think it is healthy or good. Everything I’ve listed here is depressing, and shouldn’t be listened to as anything other than an academic exercise, I should say.

But I did listen to him. Because he sort of embodied all of these experiences, growing up with absent boomer parents, and money at the same time, and listening to all this music. And I think that it is helpful for examining my own experiences.

He’s a heroin junkie. Sort of a vision of something I could have become, something a lot of the kids I grew up with did become (though without the artistic success, for the most part). And why he became that and I became… the leader of the neon-nazis… is a very important question to me.

What happened to each of us? Did living in the heart of the evil empire crush his soul? Did leaving it save mine?

These are the things we should consider about ourselves, and who we are – how we became what we are, each of us.

He’s very fixated on his failed parents.

So the thing.

His latest album has a song called “Maybe a Moment.”

It is really an embodiment of these sorts of experiences that I had as a kid. The stuff with girls and alcohol, drugs. Driving around in cars, not really going anywhere. The intensity of all that, when you’re 16.

Here are the lyrics for you.

Get in the car come with me
Know there’s nothing to do around here during the week
So we’re going to Memphis to get out of town
Going to Memphis to mess around

I got a bottle of Thunderbird in the trunk
I know a place if there’s anything you want
This old man runs the store
He’ll sell anything to anyone
But I don’t know what times it closes up

So think about it
But baby, don’t take too much time

Maybe only a moment
May be the time of your life

The boys might look rough
But they’re not tough, between me and you
Though they can be cruel
Like the girl Les is going on about
He just said she’s got a pretty mouth

So you see
What I’m dealing with
How’s the old saying go
With friends like this

Don’t worry we
All gotta be back by morning time

Maybe only a moment
May be the time of your life

Come on
Baby, come on
Ain’t you ever stayed out all night long

I know your brother
He don’t scare me
Why do he need to tell your mama anything
If I’m bothering you, let me know
Ain’t we damn near grown?

Maybe it’s Tuesday
Maybe it’s damn near midnight
Maybe only a moment
May be the time of your life
Maybe only a moment
May be the time of your life

But then.

They made it into a single.

And made a video.

Directed by a woman.

And it retells the story of a teenage boy inviting a teenage girl to go get fucked up with him and forget about all of this stuff that reality gave us into…

A story of a predatory man attempting to take advantage of girls, who are actually lesbians.

What a horrible, evil thing to do.

The bitch dedicated it to the LGBTQP community.

There is something symbolic about this – taking something that represented horrible personal experiences that nonetheless are extremely meaningful to me personally, given that they made me who I am, and turning it into a story about homosexuals.

It’s like being told: “You can’t even keep the bad parts. Those are ours too now.”

Anyway

Don’t listen to any of the music I included here, other than to just get an idea what it is. It probably lowers testosterone.

I write this for people who had similar experiences. My millennial comrades. And maybe some of the younger kids too have had stuff like this. Though as I understand it, the situation is quite a bit different now. And I hope it is better.

But mostly, I write it for myself. I will not live forever, but these writings will, and I want there to be a record of who I am, what made me who I am.

I will never lie to you: the biggest drive for what I do – the biggest motivation behind everything that I am – is a desire for revenge. Things that I deserved, that my family and my friends deserved, these things were taken from us. And I want the people who did this to suffer and I want them to die. I want to see their bodies stacked up and lit on fire. I want to stack their skulls up, Pol Pot style. I want their names to be erased from history.

But the second biggest motivation is to help younger people have a better situation than I had. I want young men to have futures. I want them to have the tools they need to make better decisions than I made growing up.

I want to keep kids off drugs, I want to keep them from getting involved in destructive situations with soul-draining women, I want to get them into situations where they can live healthy, productive lives. I was able to slip out of a situation that would have destroyed me. I know myself well enough to understand that now. And I want others to be able to do that.

This world we were born into… it is designed to suck all of the lifeforce out of you. I guess there’s one more 90s classic for that.

I want you to share my drive for revenge. This gives men purpose. Stronger than any other force. Stronger than even the desire to defend something you love is the desire to punish those who took away that which you loved. It gives men the strength to make the right decisions, to stay away from drugs, to make something of their lives and to become powerful.

Because we have to have the power before we will get our revenge.

In 1999, when I was 15, I saw a movie called “Fight Club.”

And that really did change everything, looking back.

There was something there, something that awoke something in me, which stayed with me.

There was a suggestion there of a third option between soulless boomer consumerism and purposeful self-destruction.

Maybe Justin Townes Earle didn’t watch it.

Last Thing

Listen to these instead.