Members of Toronto Fitness Club met up to train, socialize, and discuss plans for the future.
We remain steadfast in the face of adversity and intimidation because we understand that what we do now, in the service of our folk, echoes throughout time. Every meet, every bond made, every rally planned and performed makes a profound difference.
Do you have what it takes to make a difference with us?
Here is a folk song from PEI. It is based on true events. Peter Emberley was a young man from PEI who went to work on the Miramichi as a logger. He was later killed by a falling tree. This song was written be his friend John Calhoun in 1881. https://youtu.be/kQQh8_3w7tc?si=Fc3GRzY369y5VXNn
Tired of watching your hard-earned tax dollars go to waste at the CBC? Good news! They’ve finally found a worthy cause: covering our little event.
We’d like to inform everyone who attended the Exiles of the Golden Age event this summer that investigative reporters from the CBC have been contacting attendees, claiming to have filmed both participants and the proceedings.
While we understand that this kind of attention can be uncomfortable, it’s important to remember that there is absolutely nothing wrong with attending an event like this, or with the ideas discussed there.
What’s remarkable is that such an event would attract scandalous coverage in the first place. Is it really so controversial to be proud of one’s European heritage outside the narrow lens of liberal ideology? Or to speak openly about the historical formation of men’s fraternities and traditional values? To them, it’s only bad when white people do it because they hate you.
Frankly, we have little concern for what the CBC may publish. Their viewership is minimal, they routinely censor public feedback, and most Canadians resent the cost they impose on taxpayers. They are a relic of legacy media—ideological, out of touch, and increasingly distrusted by ordinary people.
We recommend that attendees do not engage with CBC reporters. They will not represent your words or intentions honestly. Whatever story they produce will likely have little impact and certainly won’t reflect the truth of what we’re doing.
Instead, we’ll be releasing our own footage of the event soon across several platforms. There’s no need for hidden cameras or sensationalism—we have nothing to hide. The only reason for the delay is that we all have full-time jobs and it’s taken time to edit and prepare the material properly.
It’s unfortunate that the situation has come to this. In a country struggling with drug addiction, violent crime, and moral decay, it’s telling that this is what the national broadcaster chooses to focus on.
To The Memory of Lord Nelson A poem by Jonathan Odell, Loyalist Poet of New Brunswick
Tho’ envied and hated by Tyrants and Slaves, Britannia fair Queen of the Ocean remains. Repell'd by her Ramparts, that float on the Waves, War flies from her Borders and Want from her plains. For Ages renown'd, By Victory crown'd, Her Tars have display'd an invincible train. Surpass'd by no other, Each rivals his brother, And all prove their title as Lords of the Main.
Chorus Lords of the Main!, Aye, Lords of the Main, The Tars of Old England are Lords of the Main.
This Charter, descending from Heroes of old, Expands in Succession as Ages roll on, A Climax of Glory! But oh, can it hold? Who shall rival the past, now that Nelson is gone! Yet hark, from on High, The angelic reply: Your Nelson shall conquer and triumph again. Each Tar shall inherit A Share of his Spirit, And all prove invincible Lords of the Main.
Wherever your far-dreaded Sails are unfurl'd, The Genius of Nelson shall fight by your Side, And teach you again to astonish the World, By deeds unexampled, achievements untried. Then Britons strike home! For Ages to come Your Nelson shall conquer and triumph again, Each Tar shall inherit A Share of his Spirit, And all prove invincible Lords of the Main."
Nor are we alone in the noble career; The Soldier partakes of the generous flame. To Glory he marches, to Glory we steer: Between us we share the rich harvest of fame. Recorded on High, Their names never die, Whose deeds the renown of their Country sustain. The King, God bless him! The World shall confess him, The Lord of those Men who are Lords of the Main.
The first North American Thanksgiving took place in Frobisher bay in 1578. An expedition led by Martin Frobisher had gone awry as the two ships were separated due to deadly storms and ice. Luckily the ships survived and reconnected in the territory of Nunavut, a large feast of Thanksgiving was held to thank God for their safe passage. Later in 1604, a group of settlers led by the "father of New France" Samuel de Champlain arrived and began holding celebrations of thanks. Although they would typically celebrate when the time to celebrate was at hand rather than a set date. In 1879 Thanksgiving became a yearly holiday, however the date would continually change throughout the years until 1957 when it was finally established as the second Monday in October due to a proclamation of the governor general of Canada Vincent Massey. The typical foods we all know and love were incorporated after the American Revolution when many loyalists moved north and brought with them their traditions from America.
With all that being said, happy Thanksgiving to all our brothers, may blessings be bestowed upon you and your loved ones. 🦃🍁🤝
The Fascist accepts life and loves it, knowing nothing of and despising suicide; he rather conceives of life as duty and struggle and conquest, life which should be high and full, lived for oneself, but above all for others — those who are at hand and those who are far distant, contemporaries, and those who will come after.
