To put whiteness at the core of one’s identity is to imagine oneself as possessing some kind of deep kinship with Slavic miners, Sardinian olive farmers, New York real estate agents, Swedish academics, Texan ranchers, Belgian chocolatiers and Westminster politicians. It is, ironically, delusional internationalism. Britons find it difficult to think of themselves as a people. Whites, as much as it is to be welcomed that we do not kill each other en masse anymore, are never going to.
Identity is local and particular. To build it on such an enormously vague and broad concept is symptomatic of the decline of families, communities and nations. It is for the victims of atomisation.
Wandering Near Sawtry 