#neoNazis #skinheads

"One batch of skins called themselves American Front. They were, IIRC, either the third or fourth gang of neo-Nazi thugs to plague Haight Street, depending on whether the Bash Boys/SF Skins split counts as one gang or two. The SF Skins tagged some wet cement outside Bound Together shortly after the store moved to Haight Street, so they probably think they were first. Opinions vary. We didn’t care. A fascist is a fascist is a fascist. Besides, before they grew their hair out and started dressing preppy, they really did look an awful lot alike. They presented as virtual clones. They were easy to spot, but it was hard to distinguish one from the other. They acted alike, too. And they milled around. That made it even harder. It did sharpen our facial recognition skills, though. This has later proven valuable. There's always a silver lining.

The American Front was led (in a manner of speaking) by the infamous 'Nazi Bob' Heick. He later went on to 'lead the youth wing of the White Aryan Resistance, when (so the story goes) Metzger’s 'differently special' son proved incapable of the job. But first, Heick left the Haight with his tail between his legs, after a couple dozen people watched a skinny, middle aged, hippie with granny glasses and a pony tail down to his waist, humiliate him in front of multiple witnesses.

'Nazi Bob' and his wingman had been staggering down Haight Street drunk. They did this often. As they passed Bound Together, they impulsively decided to break our window with their fists. This is a really stupid move on anybody's part. Fists!?! Oh, please. Can't anybody tell life from the movies anymore? They’d been using bricks for a while, and had broken our window many times. It had been an expensive, ongoing nuisance, but never shut us down. Bricks work on windows. Fists don’t. If you want to break a window, you’re much better off using a brick than your fist. It’ll save you a trip to the ER and you won't need any stitches. Life is always better when you don't need stitches. Just a suggestion.

I'm not saying you should break windows. I'm not saying you should not break windows. That's between you and the window. Before you make that decision, though, it's good to know what actually happens to someone whose fist (or whatever) goes through a window. It isn’t pretty at all. Don’t do it. You’ll be sorry later. That's a promise. It won't be like the movies. There is always blood and sometimes it spurts. That's never good. At all times, avoid having your blood spurt. In the age of AIDS, anybody's blood spurting in any direction had become problematic.

Then there's the matter of the glass itself. In the movies, that’s no more real glass than it is real blood. It's an illusion that doesn't work at all in real life. In all cases, not just ones like this, it is vitally imperative that each and every one of us is totally clear on the difference between life and the movies. Or the news. Or the rumor mill. Many such illusions festoon the Spectacle. None should be taken at face value, especially this one. This one can get you seriously hurt. Or worse. Do not put your hand through real glass, ever. Ever. No matter what. I cannot stress it too strongly. This applies also to heads. It's extremely dangerous even when done right, and it can easily go wrong. Above all, do not allow your own personal head to be put through a window by somebody else. It’s very bad luck and makes a dreadful mess. Just don't do it.

The other guy’s head is a different matter. But that’s your call and not mine, or for that matter, his either. Just be careful of your hands should you decide to do it. I am not recommending that you do it. Really, I’m not. That would be incitement, which is a crime. Besides, it's barely worth the risks involved. There are much safer, easier and far less complicated ways to get your point across than a mess of bloody glass. Common sense tells us that putting somebody's head through a glass window is a fairly simple thing. It is not. Serious complications may well arise. Common sense also tells us the earth is flat. So fuck common sense. Better we use reason, science and the accumulated wisdom of the Ancestors. When all three agree, then make decisions. In the meantime, wait, watch and listen, and the truth will seek you out. Sometimes it will even sneak up behind you and smack you in the head. This is always a sub-optimal outcome. Choosing a tactic that may generate a sub-optimal outcome if executed incorrectly, is not to be undertaken impulsively.

Unlike some of our enemies, anti-fascists do not act impulsively. Actions have consequences, so we think things all the way through before we act. Well, most of the time, anyway. There are reasons forthis. For example, if in the course of a broken glass event you wound up needing stitches, and went to a local ER, questions would certainly be asked, especially if a head needing stitches happened to have showed up a bit earlier. And if some guy had shown up at the morgue with his throat cut (which is always a risk when a head goes through glass), the questions would be even more pointed. I'm not making a moral judgement here. I'm just making an objective observation. Head through glass? It sounds easy-peasy, but in real life it's quite problematic, and not just for the head in question.

Nazi Bob didn’t even get that far. It would have been poetic justice if just once it had been his own head, and not one of his bricks, that went through Bound Together’s window. But windows cost money, there were witnesses, and the rap for thump therapy is pretty light weight compared to accidentally cutting a throat. That could easily be construed as manslaughter, if not worse.

So Nazi Bob didn’t get his head put through a window that night. Sorry, but that's the truth of the matter. I doubt he was sober enough to appreciate how lucky he’d been. In his drunken haze, he had even failed to notice that there was a meeting going on inside. It hadn’t occurred to him that there might be a reason the lights were on after business hours. They're not called boneheads for nothing. Some things they just have to learn the hard way.

At the first sound of Nazi Bob pounding on glass, everyone at the meeting piled out onto the sidewalk and pursued him up Haight Street with great vigor and alacrity. He got as far as the corner. He was alone. His erstwhile kammerad had run off in the other direction, abandoning Bob to his fate. That’s the kind of men these fascists are. They're cowards. That’s why they run in packs. 'Meine Ehre heißt Treue' myass. These are no master race. These are losers, looking for something else to lose at. They just lack the suss to figure it out on their own. They need to be shown.

Fortunately, it’s not all that difficult, especially when they're alone and surrounded. Bullies hate it when it's them that's surrounded. But there he was. It would have been neither necessary, sporting, nor honorable to rat pack a drunk, even a Nazi, especially in public. It would have shown very poor form. Rat packing is the Nazi way. Anarchists are not Nazis. Anarchists are civilized, honorable people. On occasion, we are even chivalrous, especially when there are witnesses. At least we were back then. Practical circumstance had yet to fully enlighten us to the realpolitik at work in the anti-fascist project. Chivalry has no place in reaplolitik. Besides, there were those pesky witnesses. So a single volunteer stepped up and took care of business. Let’s call him 'Donny'.

Donny had gone to Canada to avoid serving in the Viet Nam war. He was far from alone. Hundreds of thousands of men evaded the draft by fleeing the country or by failing to register. Years later, President Jimmy Carter granted them unconditional pardons. So Donny came home, went back to school and became a librarian. He’s a soft-spoken, mild-mannered guy. To this day, I’ve never heard him raise his voice.

(cont.)