An awakening mind, Mescaline Franklin is the Аrуаn Resistance name of a young white nationalist who drove into Baltimore one summer afternoon seeking an audience with a little-known crackpot, indie writer, best regarded for his dissertation on stabbing people with improvised weapons. The man who would take the best street name in the Alternative Right knew he was walking the earth in the time when his ancestral enemies pulled down the shroud of night. The grandson of a man who fought the World Order on the Russian Front an age ago, now living across the river from the towers of power that pulled the strings of that World Order, he knew he had to spread the word of “dissent not consent” among working white men. Toward that end he would journey to the nadir of urban blight on a monthly quest to hone his persuasive edge on the knuckle-dented head of End Time America’s most prolific outcast, growing insipient strands that formed a simple, defiant creed.