Lee in the Mountains

Doing the Lord's Work by Saving the White Race

Monthly Archives: December 2008

What’s forever for?

White people! Get married, and stay married! And have many, many White youngins! My family is blessed, so far, 160 years of marriage, between my parents, my wife’s parents, and my wife and me. Sola Deo Gloria!

NB: Michael Martin Murphy wrote this song as a tribute to his parents.  Me too!

Wake UP, White people!!!

Creedence Clearwater Revival – Fortunate Son Live 1969

“National Service”?


The negro, the Kennedy (the whore murderer or caroline), the McCainiac et al, ARE NOT GETTING ANY OF MINE.

Molon Labe,

Sic Semper Tyrannis

**DEC. Alert** US to be CUT OFF from World – Baltic Dry Index Falls 93%

“IF” this is correct, there is a world of hurt coming in the next few/several months. This has been reported in the MSM several times in the last 30 days. I do not know this first hand, but I think it is close.

If not, the Truth is still, Community, Community, Community!

Ice Cube Lays It All Out


Thank you Southern National Congress, for selling us OUT!

Thank you Southern National Congress, for selling us OUT!

Boot On Your Neck


Crash Course DVDs now available

You can order 30 for less than a $ a piece. This one is a must send to anyone who will give it a few minutes. Go to site for full details.


Friday, December 5, 2008, 6:00 pm, by ErikTownsend

UPDATE 12-5-08: Discs are now ready to order!

Hi, Chris here (Erik is on a flight home).

I’ve done it, I placed the first order for 300 discs and it went through.

The DVD company is now accepting orders.

An order placed today will ship Monday.

Remember, you have to use a coupon code to get the $0.85 price per disc.

Shipping & Handling cost me $25.50 (ground) for 300 discs, and would have cost me ~$12 for 30, to give you some sense of what it will be (and I live pretty far from the shipping location).

Here are the details:

1. URL = http://www.crashcoursedvd.com/ OR http://www.cdfx-crashcourse.com/ (<– this link is the the actual order location, so don’t worry if/when you see this appear in your URL address bar if you use the first link)
2. Billing that will appear on your credit card = “New Media Gateway”. It will NOT be chrismartenson.com. Please be aware of this to avoid confusion…there is no profit on this venture for anybody and credit card disputes will upset this delicate balance.
3. Coupon codes (don’t include the “” marks, just the text between them):

For 30 discs, or any number divisible by 30: “30count” (<–that is a coupon code)

For 50 discs, or any number divisible by 50: “50count” (<–so is that)
For 100 discs, or any number divisible by 100: “100count” (<–so is that)

Orders are being accepted now.



Chris Martenson and the Team.

Remembering Lee

by Gail Jarvis

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This Sunday is the 196th anniversary of Robert E. Lee’s birthday, and we shouldn’t let the day pass without paying homage to this fine gentleman. In recent years, Lee has become one of the primary targets of the PC campaign to eradicate Southern heritage. But General Lee’s reputation has survived. New books about the “Gray Fox” are still being published even though hundreds of Lee books already exist. Robert E. Lee is the subject of television documentaries and major films portray him in a favorable light. And, of course, there is “the poem.”

Military figures do not ordinarily inspire poets to write about them. But Robert E. Lee was not an ordinary military man. So Donald Davidson, an admirer of General Lee, as well as a defender of Southern principles, was moved to write “Lee in the Mountains” and this poem has become a cult favorite.

Except for Libertarians and advocates of Southern conservative beliefs, Donald Davidson doesn’t have the following he deserves. Davidson was a member of the famous Southern Agrarians, a group of pro-South intellectuals from Vanderbilt University who extolled Southern virtues in the early part of the twentieth century. This group included Allen Tate, Robert Penn Warren, John Crowe Ransom and others. Davidson’s book: “The Attack on Leviathan: Regionalism and Nationalism in the United States” should be required reading for all political science students but you probably won’t find it in any syllabus or any college library.

In his poem “Lee in the Mountains” Davidson depicts Lee in his later years when he was president of Washington College in Lexington, Virginia. As shadows fall in the late afternoon, Lee is walking across the campus when he overhears a group of students whispering, “Hush, it is General Lee!” These words stir the old man’s thoughts.

The young have time to wait
But soldier’s faces under their tossing flags
Lift no more by any road or field,
And I am spent with old wars and new sorrow.
Walking the rocky path, where steps decay
And the paint cracks and grass eats on the stone.
It is not General Lee, young men…
It is Robert Lee in a dark civilian suit who walks,
An outlaw fumbling for the latch, a voice
Commanding in a dream where no flag flies.

Robert E. Lee’s thoughts turn to his father, Lighthorse Harry Lee, the hero of the Revolutionary War, member of congress, and Governor of Virginia. In his mid-50s, bad health forced Harry to seek the warm climate of the West Indies in order to recover his health. Robert was only six years old when his father left the Lee home in Alexandria and sailed for Barbados.

I can hardly remember my father’s look, I cannot
Answer his voice as he calls farewell in the misty
Mounting where riders gather at gates.
He was old then – I was a child – his hand
Held out for mine, some daybreak snatched away,
And he rode out, a broken man.

While in the West Indies, Harry’s health continued to deteriorate. Fearing that death was imminent, he decided to return to his family but during the voyage the suffering man’s condition worsened. When the ship reached the coast of Georgia, Lighthorse Harry asked to be put ashore on Cumberland Island. He died there a few weeks later and, on the grounds of the Dungeness estate, amidst the live oak and magnolia groves, he was given a full military funeral. Ships at anchor in the gulf fired their guns in salute while soldiers from nearby Fernandina solemnly marched to the graveside with crape on their sidearms.

Now let
His lone grave keep, surer than cypress roots,
The vow I made beside him. God too late
Unseals to certain eyes the drift
Of time and the hopes of men and a sacred cause.
The fortune of the Lees goes with the land
Whose sons will keep it still.

Earlier, before leaving for the West Indies, Harry’s soured real estate deals had eventually caused his financial ruin and landed him in debtor’s prison. In a 12 × 15-foot cell at the county jail at Montross, Lighthorse Harry Lee began writing his memoirs of the Revolutionary War. Upon his release, he completed and published them. Now his son, in his final years, feels compelled to edit and republish his dead father’s memoirs.

What did my father write? I know he saw
History clutched as a wraith out of blowing mist
Where tongues are loud, and a glut of little souls
Laps at the too much blood and the burning house.
He would have his say, but I shall not have mine.
What I do is only a son’s devoir
To a lost father. Let him only speak.

But memories of the long years of the War Between the States disrupt Lee’s thoughts. He is unable to forget the South’s bitter defeat nor can he calm his tormenting doubts about his decision to surrender. The memory of that Palm Sunday at Appomattox continues to haunt the Gray Fox.

The Shenandoah is golden with a new grain
The Blue Ridge, crowned with a haze of light,
Thunders no more. The horse is at plough. The rifle
Returns to the chimney crotch and the hunter’s hand.
And nothing else than this? Was it for this
That on an April day we stacked our arms
Obedient to a soldier’s trust? To lie
Ground by heels of little men,
Forever maimed, defeated, lost, impugned?
And was I then betrayed? Did I betray?

In the waning days of the War, faced with mounting injuries and dwindling supplies, Lee planned to conceal his remaining soldiers in the mountains of North Carolina and use guerilla-style raids on the enemy until a new army could be formed. General Washington had successfully employed this technique during the Revolutionary War when, like Robert E. Lee, his forces had also been outnumbered. But Confederate President Jefferson Davis had turned down Lee’s request. Now Lee wonders what might have happened if Davis had not rejected his plans.

Too late
We sought the mountains and those people came.
And Lee is in the mountains now, beyond Appomatox,
Listening long for voices that will never speak
Again; hearing the hoofbeats that come and go and fade
Without a stop, without a brown hand lifting
The tent-flap, or a bugle call at dawn,
Or ever on the long white road the flag
Of Jackson’s quick brigades. I am alone,
Trapped, consenting, taken at last in mountains.

The sound of a chapel bell interrupts Lee’s reverie, his mood suddenly changes, and he is overcome with a powerful religious conviction.

Young men, the God of your fathers is a just
And merciful God who in this blood once shed
On your green altars measures out all days,
And measures out the grace
Whereby alone we live.

The religious motif that brings Davidson’s poem to this passionate conclusion is foreshadowed throughout this remarkable composition. There is a feeling of reverence surrounding Lee’s attachment to the land, his pride in his famous family, his paternal feelings toward his students, and his unceasing devotion to the memory of his heroic father.

In the last year of his life, Robert E. Lee, accompanied by his grown daughter, Agnes, took a tour of the South. Their stopover in Savannah was particularly poignant because Lee made what he sensed would be his last visit to his father’s grave. On an April morning, Lee and Agnes took a steamer to Cumberland Island. Lee stood by in silence while Agnes placed beautiful fresh flowers on her grandfather’s grave.

Within a few months Lee himself passed on and was buried in the crypt beneath the chapel at Washington College. Years later, Harry Lee’s body was removed from Dungeness and placed in the crypt beside his son. Now all the Lees were home again in their beloved Virginia. As Davidson reminds us:

The fortune of the Lees goes with the land
Whose sons will keep it still.

January 18, 2003

Gail Jarvis [send him mail], a CPA living in Beaufort, SC, is an advocate of the voluntary union of states enumerated

Sticker Shock Moves from the Oil Tank to the Seed Catalog

Just read this from Fedco Seeds. Fedco is one of several good seed companies out there, however, it appears all of them are raising their seed prices. You must have a good supply of non-hybrid seeds, in large quantity, at least two years worth. The time to acquire them is now. Keep the extra seeds, dry, cool, and away from light. Learn to save seeds of what you like, and pass them down to your youngins. Do not take the availability of seeds or Clean Food in general for granted. TPTB are in the process of FrankinFooding us. Raise your own non-GMOed , non-Genetically altered food, or trade for it. Don’t eat their food, by God’s grace and mercy, eat Clean food instead!


Sticker Shock Moves from the Oil Tank to the Seed Catalog

Oct. 10, 2008: We are in the midst of the deluge now: a financial hurricane the
likes of which I never would have imagined. Commodity price fluctuations I
have not seen before in my lifetime. Oil, shooting up from $60 to $145 a
barrel, then back down in just a few months to $80. Gasoline prices up and
down like a yo-yo.

And now, seed prices. I’ve been 30 years in this business and these are the
highest increases to us I’ve ever seen. The ethanol boom diverting land to corn
production has had a tremendous impact on farm commodity prices including
vegetable seeds. Wholesale prices for pea and bean seed are up 30-50%, for
corn and squash 20% or more. Even so, wholesalers could not find growers for
all crops so several varieties are missing from our catalog. Horrible growing
weather this summer has exacerbated the shortage.

With the collateral damage only beginning to ripple out from the broken
financial centers to our communities, this is a hard time to have to raise our
prices. We are a lean operation and are doing our best to absorb what we can
and cushion the blow to you.

“The trouble with the profit system has always been that
it is highly unprofitable to most people.” E.B. White, 1944
I’m fascinated by numbers. Thus my passion for tracking Fedco’s sales,
analyzing its finances, and dissecting baseball statistics.

Last year instead of buying The Boston Globe and plunging into the sports, I
started heading first to the financial pages of The New York Times. The
ominous clouds gathering on our economic horizons provided compelling

For 30 years I had held a modest stake in a well-managed
infrastructure company that makes things like sealants,
coatings and pipeline tape that we all depend on but few
think much about. Over the years the shares had gained
modestly. Then in the past two they had split and lurched
precipitously upward in an unsustainable trajectory.
Meanwhile, attendance at Common Ground Fair, after
languishing for years, had unexpectedly set a new record in
2007. Over the winter, Fedco orders poured in and showed
unprecedented increases across the board, with no facile
explanation such as Y2K to account for them. Something
felt different, like the beginning of the sixties had, like the
onset of a sea change, like people were preparing for a

In January, as I studied my stock’s price graph and read of
plunging home values, rising foreclosure rates, overleveraged
financial institutions and skewed income
distribution, I decided to sell. Good move. Today, only 9
months later, it is worth less than 40¢ on the dollar. So far
I’ve been fortunate. Fedco is in the right business at the
right time, offering essential goods that foster self-reliance
at a time when outside systems are increasingly unreliable.
But the rest of the story is still to be told. One way or
another this crisis will hurt most of us. Yet it also presents
us with unprecedented opportunities to restructure our
household economies, restore our communities and rebuild
our broken social contract.

Some fundamentals as I see them:

• Pay attention. Storm clouds build long before the bad
storms arrive. The rainbow that forms in the east as the sun
sets is a sure sign of better weather to come.

• Details matter. Buried within them are the keys to what
to do next.

• Diversify. The folks who had all their assets in Bear
Stearns, Lehman Bros. or Fannie Mae aren’t feeling too
good right now. If you grow nothing but potatoes, don’t be
surprised when the Colorado Potato Beetle devastates you.
A bad year for tomatoes is usually a good year for broccoli.

• What goes up must come down, and vice versa. Buy
low, sell high, but don’t get greedy.

• Don’t panic. The time to sell was yesterday. The time to
buy is tomorrow. The time to borrow is almost never. The
time to think is now.

• Income distribution counts. An economy, whether a
household’s or a nation’s, that depends too much on the
wealthy few will collapse when the less fortunate vast
majority stop buying in.

• We can’t have both guns and butter. The bills from our
ill-advised war on Iraq are coming due. As on our farms, so
in our nation, we can invest our resources to build our social
and economic infrastructure or we can squander them on

• Strive for transparency and trust. Without them, confidence disappears.
Without confidence, the economy and the social contract collapse.

• Let supply and demand work for us. Look what’s happened to the price of
gasoline since we collectively decided to stop driving so much! Imagine what
could happen if we all decided to stop buying over-processed pseudo foods or
stopped going into debt for non-essentials!

Where to go from here? Funny how my conclusions are the very ones that we
learn on our gardens and our farms.
—CR Lawn