"Do not ask who I am and do not ask that I remain the same."

Anarch emerged from the dark fog of Stormfront to the realm of the Phora some ten years ago. Being but a young spawnling of the naziverse, he read furiously and became a disciple of Tchort's trench coat mafia. Tchort was swallowed up by the Great Deep, and yet undeterred, Anarch continued his journey. An overenthusiastic spawnling, he imbibed the copy-pasteries of Feyd the Butcher, observing every ideological transmogrification that being undertook, eventually became the Prime Disciple of the Cult of Feyd. Never particularly loyal to a particular ideology or even forum, he rose to the ranks of supermods at Aryan Dawn and the Lyceum, enduring the spasmodic existence of the Phora through it's various incarnations. He witnessed the Phora descend lower and lower into a cesspit of ideological conformity, enduring the spasms of its existence which were apparently contingent on Feyd's menstruation cycle. Yet he believed in the dream of what was once the Phora, and nostalgically hoped that one day the Golden Age of the National Bolsheviks and the trench coat mafia might be restored.

Alas, Feyd was determined that his offspring, the Phora, must die, and so he became fanatically possessed by the field of eugenics, even turning it against his own creation - and so the Phora was punished brutally, nearly unto death. Yet the Phora was resurrected by a handful of well-intentioned souls, and by the art of necromancy it was risen from the graveyard. Horrified at the miraculous powers of the black arts, Fade raged hysterically, dispatching his minions, chief amongst them Kane123123, deluded as they were under the idea that the Phora had been stolen. The Bane of Kane was eventually defeated, and the Phora remained, slowly revived like a nerve-shattered rape victim at the hands of its own father.

And yet the Rage of Feyd and his snobbiness led to the disillusionment of Anarch, who finally headed the wisdom of il ragno, and saw the Feyd for what it was: a fat kid who took six years to (perhaps?) pass a Bachelor's degree, whose personality was so insecure its nerves shattered under the toying of a sadistic teenage girl. And Anarch was freed. He remained at the Phora, though became more detached from the forumverse, having been exposed to the blistering sunlight of The Real World, that which shall never be encountered by those who play World of Warcraft, and his enthusiasm for ideological rigour died. Finally he laid eyes upon The Beer Barrel, and declared it to be home, and now vows to hang shit on gooks, coons, niggers, feminist cunts and leftist faggots into perpetuity, not to mention gawk at titty pics on the odd occasion.
Oct 13, 2012
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