"I understood in a flash of comprehension who had placed the object there, and in one mind-expanding moment I understood what it all meant. There before me under my poised shoe was twenty-five years of my life. From 1971 until 1996 I served The Movement with my entire being, and there waiting for me to step forward was the cosmic commentary on my whole adult life. What I had been risking my life, my freedom and my future for was indeed the Movement—the Bowel Movement. I threw the filthy thing away, went and got my Sunday paper, washed and scrubbed my hands and arms to the elbows until they were almost scalded, sat down with a cup of coffee and marveled at my life. I knew then—and I know now—that if I stay with this, it will always be the Bowel Movement. There will be no change. It is NOT going to get better. Twenty-five years later, in the year 2021, when I am 68 years old, I will one day step out of my door and find turds placed on my doorstep by deranged, dysfunctional morons who claim to speak for the Aryan race. Probably from that same walking cockroach over there in Raleigh, if he's still alive in 2021. It is written in the stars. I am quite mad, of course. Only a madman would stay with it. But I can’t leave. Because the IDEA—the SPIRIT—the SOUL of National Socialism is a thing of such beauty, such intense power, such glory, that it is to me the very essence of life. That's how crazy I am, people. I am willing to accept the turds on the doorstep in order to continue even the most tenuous, faintest contact with that wonderful, unspeakably beautiful and life-giving ideal of Adolf Hitler."