October 9, 2019
Netflix continues to display great ingenuity in its endless propaganda war against white people. Its recent movie release “In the Shadow of the Moon” updates the familiar Terminator concept of time travel to ward off a future catastrophe. But while Terminator had humans traveling back through time to prevent a take-over by the machines, Netflix has brown people travelling back through time to prevent a take-over by white people conscious of their own interests.
The true ideological import of what we’ve been watching dawns only at the end, though. Till then, the story seems the much more conventional one of a cop chasing a criminal with some baked in sci-fi elements.
At the start we see people dramatically dying; their brains dissolve, blood spatters out from their bodies. Who are they? We don’t know. The only hints are that they have literature referring to American presidents such as George Washington and Andrew Jackson.
The victims all have some puncture marks on their bodies. They’ve been injected with something lethal but die only after a delay. Eye-witnesses describe a young black female as the perp.
The hero cop is a blond white guy (Boyd Holbrook from Narcos). He encounters the black bitch early on. She kills his partner and overpowers him but seems to have some spooky connection to him and spares his life.
Black bitch gets away. The mystery is unsolved. When it becomes apparent that these spates of killing occur only every 9 years, hero cop gives up the day job and devotes himself to tracking her down. A major clue on his quest is the discovery that the names of many of the victims appear on a mailing list for some kind of fringe patriot group: the Real America Movement. Not random killings, then, but targeted assassinations. The ideology of this group isn’t explained in great detail but glimpses of its literature show references to “globalists” and the “loyalists to the white race.”
Every 9 years the cop and the negroid woman have some kind of encounter, but she always gets away. In the course of his search, the cop meets a Paki scientist who explains some nonsense about how there is some a bridge to the moon every 9 years. Somehow this makes time travel possible, and it becomes clear that the groidess is travelling back through time. This part isn’t explained very well and was probably only thrown in so we could see the dynamics of the cop’s daughter growing up from a baby to a girl (with an unseen “football player” boyfriend) to, just before the end, a married woman about to give birth to the “football player’s” child.
This paves the way for the dénouement, in which the cop eventually tracks down the black bitch only to find she is actually his grand-daughter. It seems the football player who married his daughter was a negro. The black bitch is a half-breed. It turns out that, at some point in future, the Alt-Right begins a mass terrorism campaign, precipitating a new American Civil War in which millions of people die. The black bitch and the Paki are working together to prevent this future from coming into being. How? Targeted assassination of white rights activists. It’s not just the racists who need to die, though. It’s their family members too; mothers, fathers and so on. Why? They supposedly helped form the psychology and value system of the racists. (Presumably, if this was translated to the real world, the Stormer staff and their families would all have to be bumped off.)
In the end, the hero cop, having obsessively tracked down the murdering black bitch for decades, comes to realize she was right all along. The racists need to die. Their families too. It’s how it’s gotta be.
When I was nine, an ordinary man parked an ordinary truck full of home-made explosives downtown and watched it explode. His attack was just the first. 11,000 people died the first morning. Millions more in the civil war that followed. It fed on anger. It spread through fear. It made monsters out of men until even the ordinary were broken, one by one. The voice that gave birth to a movement turned a small crack into a great divide. It drowned out the best of us and it amplified the worst. So we found a way to silence it. We found a way to undo the damage, to disconnect the dots. I volunteered to untell the story. I came back to erase an idea. Because some thoughts are meant to be buried. Some before they even begin.
As the black bitch gives the final voice-over (quoted above), we see hero cop arrive at the hospital where his blonde, blue-eyed daughter is giving birth to a negroid child as her negro paramour looks joyously on.
This is the race-mixed future Netflix demands for us. And anyone who protests obviously needs to die.