The Accidental Further Adventures of the Hundred-Year-Old Man

Denmark, Sweden

Povl Riis-Knudsen was the chairman of the National Socialist Movement of Denmark, until he happened to get it on with an Arab and was forced to leave the party. Caught red-handed, he tried to argue that the Arab had awfully white skin. That wouldn’t do. An Arab was an Arab.

Yet, as the leader of the movement, he’d managed to leave his mark. He appeared on Danish TV to argue that all foreigners should be forced to leave the country, and advocated the death penalty for anyone who spread AIDS. He wanted to place political opponents in labour camps and sterilize everyone with the wrong skin colour. In accordance with some extra-complicated logic, he also had a passion for fundamentalist Islam, even though he wouldn’t touch Muslims with a ten-foot pole (unless they were white Arabs). More recently he had published books in which he attempted to prove that the concentration camps of the Second World War had never existed.

This Danish man was a main source of inspiration for the Swedish neo-Nazis in the Nordic Resistance Party. It wasn’t Denmark or Sweden under threat: it was the Aryan race and, in the long term, all of humanity – that was, biology and ecology over geography.

Within the movement were those who masqueraded as quiet Sweden Democrats and those who wanted to take quick and drastic action. Kenneth Engvall was of the latter category, to such an extent that one day he took his brother and created the Aryan Alliance instead. The last straw, for Kenneth, was when the Nordic Resistance Movement applied for a demonstration permit. What kind of resistance was that? And whom did they have to apply to? The same corrupt Jewish power elite they claimed to be resisting!

For Kenneth, it was simple. Real democracy meant, among other things, the right to hound out everyone who didn’t belong in the Nordic countries. If they didn’t leave voluntarily, there were other options. Popular government, in the true sense of the phrase, meant that the people the National Socialists put in government actually governed. The right people.

And yet Kenneth’s lack of respect for the Nordic Resistance Movement didn’t give him any immediate reason to wage war on two fronts. The Resistance could remain. Anyway, they weren’t all bad. During the most recent demonstration in Gothenburg, several had raised their right arms in the air, towards the spectators, palms flat. That was the way to do it! It was just annoying that they later called the whole thing a ‘friendly greeting to allies’ and said that only the power elite would read anything else into it.

Many people saw the humour in denying the obvious. Kenneth saw nothing but cowardice. The only thing worth denying was the Holocaust. After all, that was how the Jewish Mafia got their fuel. It wasn’t the neo-Nazis’ problem to account for where six million Jews had gone during those years. Why would it be? Weren’t people allowed to do whatever they wanted with their lives?

To argue with power was to legitimize it. And Kenneth refused. The people’s courts that would soon replace the faux-justice system the power elite had wrapped around their little finger had no task more urgent than purging all the race traitors of Scandinavia. And the Arabs, Jews and Gypsies, of course. And owning it! At long last, those who remained would be pure and white, the people the current elite worked around the clock to destroy. That was genocide. It could not stand. And yet it did.

So what did the Nordic Resistance Movement do? Demonstrated! And denied themselves.

An objective onlooker would have placed Kenneth Engvall high on the list of Sweden’s most dangerous people. He had once been schooled in the Los Angeles branch of the Aryan Brotherhood, where he had made a career out of being a Nazi and Fascist, without quite knowing the difference between the two. He climbed rapidly through the ranks by using a chainsaw to cut in two a man with the wrong attitude and the wrong race. For this he was locked up for four years, and no more, since the group’s extraordinary attorney managed to get the brutal murder defined as gross negligence.

After just a week in prison, Kenneth killed a fellow prisoner, a Mexican who happened to have an opinion about his heavily tattooed back: across the top it said, ‘In memory of Adolf Hitler’, with a swastika underneath. This was followed by the cross of the Ku Klux Klan with the words ‘white supremacy’.

The Mexican thought that only someone brain-dead would identify with Hitler and the KKK. For this he received a ballpoint pen shoved into his skull via one eye, at which he too became a member of the group ‘brain-dead’.

All seven people in the room with the perpetrator and the victim had managed to look the other way when it happened. No witnesses, no one to punish. But in the three years and fifty-one weeks that remained of Kenneth Engvall’s sentence, no one complained about his tattoos or any other of his undertakings.

For a long time now, Kenneth had been free and back in the country of his birth. With his little brother Johnny he had joined up with and made something of a career out of the Nordic Resistance Movement. But he’d never managed to get to the top, where he belonged. He was thought too outspoken. What the fuck kind of word was that? Surely if this country needed anything, it was outspokenness.

And that was how the Aryan Alliance came to be, in cooperation with the Aryan Brotherhood in Los Angeles. The operation had only just begun; there was no structure to speak of yet. Kenneth and his little brother were putting the finishing touches to a plan of action to overtake power and devoted their free time to homicide and gross assault of the foreign element. Mostly assault. A string of murders at this stage would risk waking the current powers and their yes-men on the police force. Spending twenty or thirty years inside was hardly the quickest path to a new order.

Money was an issue as well. The Americans contributed a certain amount each month, but they had already sent word that in time the cash-flow must start to come from the other direction. They recommended that Kenneth take over Stockholm’s cocaine trade from the Turkish-Italian coalition that currently had the market cornered. Of course he would. But there were more than eight well-guarded targets and only two people to do it. They needed a plan. ‘Take your time,’ was the Americans’ response. They trusted Kenneth.