Animal Rights Prisoner Support

30.01.2011 Walter Bond has been transferred from FTC Oklahoma City to USP Marion

Walter’s new mailing address:

A letter from Walter Bond came today, dated Jan 17. He writes:

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As of Monday, January 23, Walter is still listed on the BOP inmate locator as being at FTC Oklahoma City http://www.bop.gov/iloc2/LocateInmate.jsp

You can send mail to him there. If they won’t give it to him, or if he gets transferred to Marion before it arrives, he says it will be forwarded to him at Marion. He said don’t send books to him at Oklahoma City, just letters. To be on the safe side (to avoid having your letter returned), don’t use return address sticker labels and remember to write your address in the body of the letter, because everything you sent him previously has been thrown away by the jail and he is not always given the envelope you mailed it in.

Walter Bond

Oklahoma City OK 73189-8801

As soon as the inmate locator lists Walter’s location as Marion, you can click on the link to get the address. Also it will be listed on the fb page, supportwalter.org, negotiationisover.net and arprisoners.org.

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03.01.2011 Walter is currently in transit to a federal facility.  He maybe move multiple times before landing at his final location.  More info on where to write him will be available hopefully soon.

Support sites: www.SupportWalter.org and www.negotiationisover.net

23.10.2011 Walter Bond is in solitary confinement

Dear Supporters:

Walter Bond is still being held at Davis County Jail at this time. He was placed into solitary confinement on Sunday, October 16, and it is unknown how long he will remain there. At some point in the coming days or weeks, the US Marshall will transfer Walter out of that jail.

It is possible Walter will be taken out of solitary and into another jail unit or the jail may keep him in solitary until the US Marshall arrives to pick him up.

While in solitary, Walter is not permitted to make calls to anyone other than his attorney. He is also not allowed to order any food from the jail commissary. He does receive his mail.

You are invited and encouraged to mail him letters and cards, but be advised that it is possible he will be transferred before he receives them. If your letter is returned for this reason, please don’t be discouraged. Walter has said many times that he loves getting support mail, and that it is the high point of his day. You can be sure your note will make him really happy and will help sustain him at this time.

Just a reminder not to use any stickers or tape on the letter or envelope. Hand write the return address. It is advised that you include your address on the letter as well, in case he is not given your envelope.

As soon as it is known that he is no longer at Davis County Jail, this info will be posted by SupportWalter.org, on Walter Bond’s facebook page, on NegotiationIsOver.net and on arprisoners.org. As soon as Walter arrives at the federal prison where he will be placed (unknown at this time) this information will also be posted at these sites.

14.10.2011

Today Walter was sentenced to 87 months in prison for the ALF arsons in Utah. This new sentencing will run consecutive with his time in Colorado. This gives Walter a total of 12 years for his actions as the ALF Lone Wolf.

14.10.2011 Final Statement to the Court in Utah

I’m here today because of the arsons I committed at the Tandy Leather Factory in Salt Lake City and the Tiburon restaurant in Sandy, Utah, which sells the incredibly cruel product foie gras. The U.S. attorney wants to give me the maximum sentence and beyond not because of my “crimes” but because I am unrepentant and outspoken. My intuition tells me that this court is not going to show me mercy because I become suddenly sorry. So instead of lying to the court in a feeble attempt to save myself, as I’m certain many do when they face their sentencing day, allow me instead to tell you what I am sorry for.

I am sorry that when I was 19 years old I built two slaughterhouses that are still killing animals even now as I speak. I am sorry that Tandy Leather sells skin that has been ripped from the dead, and often live bodies of such animals as cows, ostriches, rabbits, snakes and pigs. I am sorry that the leather tanneries that supply Tandy Leather Factory poison the Earth with dangerous chemicals. I am sorry that the restaurant Tiburon profits from the force feeding of geese and ducks until their livers explode so that rich people can then use that as a pate for crackers and bread. I am sorry that they make a living from the dead bodies of wild and exotic animals. I am sorry that we live in a day and age where you can rape a child or beat a woman unconscious and receive less prison time than an animal liberation activist that attacked property instead of people.

I am sorry that my brother was so desperate to get out of debt that he flew from Iowa to Colorado just to get me in a taped and monitored conversation for reward money. I am sorry I am biologically related to such a worthless little snitch. I am sorry that I waited so long to become an Animal Liberation Front operative. For all of these things I will always have some regret. But as far as the arsons at the Leather Factory and Tiburon, I have no remorse.

I realize that the laws of the land favor a businesses ability to make a profit over an animals right to life. It also used to favor white business owners ability to profit from a black persons slavery. It also used to favor a husbands ability to viciously attack his wife and act on her as if she were an object. Those who broke the law and damaged property to stand against those oppressions were also called “terrorists” and “fanatics” in their time but that did not change the fact that society progressed and is still progressing along those lines.

So today I’m the bad guy. That is just a matter of historical coincidence. Who knows, perhaps a less brutal and less violent society will one day exist that will understand that life and Earth are more important that products of death and cruelty. And if not then to hell with it all anyway! Weather my supporters or detractors think I am a freedom fighter or a lunatic with a gas can makes no difference to me. I have spent years verifiably promoting, supporting and fighting for Animal Liberation. I have seen the animal victims of human injustice, thousands of them with my own eyes and what I saw was blood, guts and gore! I made a promise to those animals and to myself to fight for them in anyway I could. I regret none of it, and I never will!

You can take my freedom, but you can’t have my submission.

Walter Bond

A.L.F. – P.O.W.

XLoneVWolfX

Always Looking Forward

But first, I must admit certain experiences in life are initiatory and as such cannot truly be conveyed accurately through the medium of words. This has its good and bad points. For me, as an individual, I am very grateful that this is the case, for it has shown me that certain things are sacred and secret. I am reminded that sometimes word jugglery is simply inadequate no matter how elegantly stated.

When I think of the Animal Liberation Front, the first thing I feel is a feeling, not a thought. It’s a feeling of true solidarity with every other A.L.F. warrior. The fact that I do not know any of them does not weaken it — it strengthens it. The fact that we come from different countries, speak different languages and may hold different beliefs on a myriad of other issues doesn’t weaken it — it strengthens it! Because all that is truly and deeply important in this sisterhood and brotherhood is our actions and animal liberation, no matter what the obstacles. We are the woe of all animal abusers everywhere. And we are self-liberated, more than most. When I think of my tour of duty in the A.L.F., I recall the most triumphant, free and intensely tumultuous times of my life. So with that said, here are my answers to…

“What was it like being in the Animal Liberation Front / Underground?”

Being an A.L.F. warrior can be a life of duality, extremes and often opposites. Before I went underground, I worked as a manager of dry goods in a health food store. I never attended any seminars or workshops on how to become an animal rights ninja or pyrotechnic professional. This is reality, not an action movie where you need to have some dramatic climax of events and a bunch of training. All that is needed to begin an underground campaign is the desire to act more than talk or posture. Unfortunately many animal lib activists never so much as make this crucial step. We seem content to play the pacifist victim role: “I’m crying all the time for the animals,” and, “I wish I had the courage to do what needs to be done” are common themes amongst the so-called compassionate.

My transformation from a legal activist to a clandestine one came on the day I finally decided that I couldn’t stand one more hollow conversation about ‘The Big Picture of Our Movement’ or anymore rhetoric about how cruel this or that person or practice is. At that point I decided to quit my job. (I’m not suggesting that’s necessary… it was just my path to the underground.) I had no vehicle so I knew that anything I did would be local. I also knew that sooner or later someone would want to talk with me about the actions I had in mind. Therefore, I thought it would be best to not be so accessible as to be in one place, day in and out, forty hours a week.

The first reality check I had was about practicality. Being homeless for me was no easy task. I honestly was not good at it. I had passed the age where hipster anarchists would want me as a part of their neatly manicured communes and squats. For all the talk about diversity in such circles, most collectives I encountered were small cliques of 20-somethings that had nearly identical backgrounds and worldviews. I, as a 30-something vegan straightedger wasn’t exactly a natural fit.

So, during my time in the A.L.F., I couch surfed when I could, and slept in parks when I had to. I stole my food when I had no money. (I’ve always felt that quality vegan food tastes better stolen.) I began to settle into a life of drifting. I found that after the arson of the Sheepskin Factory in Denver, I no longer had the urge to talk about animal lib issues incessantly and to no great effect. Nor did I need anyone’s approval or denial. This is how I knew I was on the right track.

While living homeless was a new tribulation in my life, the empowerment of direct actions more than made up for it. My worldview shifted from the philosophical and theoretical to the tactical and actual. And here entered the beginning of extremes in my life. By night I was picking targets and burning ‘em down. But by day I played the part of goofy overgrown straightedge kid just out for a bit of travel.

I made my way to Salt Lake City, Utah. My reasoning for doing so was that Utah has been one of the most targeted states in America for A.L.F. activity and also has a large and often extreme straightedge community. If there was anywhere that I could blend in and not stick out (as much as you don’t stick out with half your face tattooed) it would be there.

Once in Utah I had a couple decisions to make. First was if I was going to continue my campaign. Looking into the recent history of animal and earth liberations I know that once the FBI was on the hunt they would use their resources for years to discover or frame someone. I also knew that sooner or later when they began questioning or infiltrating activist circles in the Denver area my name was bound to be at the top of the hardcore vegan list. My next thought following was that once they discovered I suddenly left town, I would be more of a person of interest. So the reality struck me that I had crossed the Rubicon and in examining my thoughts and feelings about that, I decided that it was time to proceed further.

The next decision to ponder was organizational affiliation. I had not yet claimed the arson at The Sheepskin Factory in any communiqué. I had in my possession the manifesto “Declaration of War” (free download / buy here) authored by Screaming Wolf. I felt then as I do now that it is the best book ever written as pertains to the reality of animal liberation and the tactics that must be employed. And my own personal philosophy on radicalism and militancy is definitely more in keeping with clandestine groups like the Animal Rights Militia and Justice Department.

However, I became an underground illegal direct activist in part because I was sick of posturing. And the truth is I would never seek to do personal and actual violence to anybody, unless it was in defense of myself. So if I’m not gonna go to that level, why portray or posture as if I would? Also the reality thus far is that with all the great actions of underground affiliates such as the A.R.M. and J.D., and contrary to their threatening and ‘violent’ communiqués, many of their actions are of a certain shock value.

Don’t get me wrong… I understand that evil unpunished and un-avenged will be continued without end. And I am in no way a pacifist. Sometimes it takes force to stop violence — that is the reality of the world in which we live. But at the end of the day the Animal Liberation Front is the only group that’s been as continuously active globally, has rescued several thousand animals under cover of darkness and caused several millions of dollars’ worth of retribution to animal users and abusers everywhere. That’s why I chose to become an A.L.F. operative.

My next two targets were the Tandy Leather Factory in Salt Lake City and the Tiburon Restaurant in Sandy, Utah. I choose Tandy Leather for many of the reasons I torched The Sheepskin Factory in Denver. They are a business that profits from animals being skinned, often alive, for no other reason than to take up hobbycraft with their dead bodies.

Tandy also sells the dead skin of many other once vibrant and living creatures, such as ostriches, snakes, lambs, etc. When I broke into Tandy Leather, I lit the bolts of leather and cash register on fire to show my distain for the practice of profiting from the blatant murder of not just the Animal Nations, but also Mother Earth, which is daily poisoned with cancerous and hazardous chemicals from the tanneries that supply Tandy Leather stores nationwide.

This sick capitalist system wants to always concentrate on these perpetrators, as if they were victims. I don’t buy that, not for one minute. Because if they are the victims of injustice, it is only the same ‘injustice’ that the slaveholders suffered when robbed of their slaves. It’s only the same form of ‘injustice’ that the Nazis suffered for just going along with orders and being ‘good Germans’. And it’s the same ‘injustice’ that Christians perceive is out to get them even though they run the entire western hemisphere of the globe!

The victims are the piles of dead and broken bodies that wanted to not be skinned alive for a buck… not their task and slave masters.

Next I went after Tiburon Fine Dining. This was a restaurant that sold the notoriously cruel product foie gras, which for the uninitiated is bloated goose or duck liver that is obtained by forcing an 18-inch feeding tube down the victim’s throat. The other end of that tube has a trigger on it that shoots the food into the stomach, much like a garden hose would water. Of course no animal wants to be force fed to death, so they are kept in cages that confine all movement, so there is no chance of escape.

I lit Tiburon on fire on July 2nd of 2010, but I had meant to do it two days earlier. However, when I showed up there were a few cars in the parking lot and I could not be certain that there was no one inside, so I left.

By this point the stress of my lifestyle was beginning to catch up with me. I went to bed that night wondering if I should just call it quits for a while and put my own life back together. That night I had a very vivid dream that protested against that notion.

I dreamt that I had gone to the Tiburon Restaurant just to see the inside of the place and when I went in I saw a dining room packed with well-to-do rich people eating other people! They were gluttonous and relishing their cannibalistic urge for flesh. In my dream I was scared and sickened almost to the point of nausea. I awoke that morning partially amazed that these issues weighed so heavily on my subconscious and also struck with the realization that if it were people that were the victims of Tiburon, I would not so readily abandon my campaign.

So I found my reserve and went back to finish what I had started.

After the arson at Tiburon, the stress of the lifestyle was wearing me down. I knew I needed a break.

I had recently contacted my brother through Facebook and had talked to him a couple times via a payphone. (My phone was off — apparently you have to pay the bill every month.) My brother was concerned about why I was roaming around the country homeless. For once the roles were reversed. Even though my brother is exactly one year and two days older than me, I have always been the one to have my shit together. That said it felt good to be the one in need. And my brother, now married and with kids, seemed to have some assistance to offer.

It must also be said that my brother had a very drug addicted, violent and criminal past. With these things in mind, I made a fatal flaw. I told my brother, my flesh and blood, what I had been doing. My exact words were, “Google ‘The Sheepskin Factory’… That’s what I’ve been up to.” The first website that came up on his search was an animal rights website. From there he looked up accounts of the arson from the mainstream media and found out there was a cash reward for any info leading to the arrest of the person or persons involved.

48 hours after that phone conversation, my brother was a federal informant. Over the next 3 weeks, the FBI taped my phone conversations (my brother had wired me money to get my phone turned back on) and followed me around Salt Lake City. My brother wanted me to go back to Iowa, the state of my birth and the same state he still lived in. I can only guess that this was where the feds had originally intended to take me down. My brother once again wired me money for a bus ticket to Iowa. I decided to go back to Denver so that I could keep a couple bucks. My intuition was telling me that something was not right, but I had surmised that after setting fire to two animal exploitation businesses in just under a month that it was paramount that I leave Utah quickly. It never occurred to me that I was running into a trap.

Looking back, it should have been obvious, but hindsight is 20/20. In any event, when I arrived back in Denver, I contacted my brother and told him of my change in travel plans. He told me that our half-brother, who I know of, but have met only once, was living in Denver (which I knew was true), and that he would be coming out to help him move. He told me we could meet up, then catch up on old times, and of course he would have a few bucks for me.

For two weeks I lived in a park in downtown Denver while searching for temporary employment. At this point let me say that the authorities have done their job well – and I’m not talking of their arrest of me. What became evident to me living in the underground is that there is no actual support for the A.L.F. When I first began my campaign, I approached a well-to-do ‘militant vegan activist’ in Denver and alluded to the fact that I was now underground as evidenced by the news on The Sheepskin Factory arson. This was a person that liked to brag about how much money she had to support all the “real and hardcore animal liberationists in the struggle.” But when it came down to it, I was not only denied a single penny, but I was also no longer welcome. The “animal rights community” is so scared to be green that they’ve become yellow!

In the 80s and 90s, there were networks of aboveground support and actions in North America took place much more frequently. Now to be in the A.L.F. is to be a leper and to be found out by other “activists” is to be shunned and forgotten. Welcome to “militant animal liberation” in current day America. A whole lot of tasty food, conventions, big talks, large books and cowardly bullshit!

But I digress… back to the story. So I met my brother at the Ramada Inn in downtown Denver. The first thing on my mind was that it was nice to be in the hotel instead of the park. My brother was calm and cool, no hint of anxiety. We began catching up on old times and he began speaking to me candidly about past criminal activity that he had been part of. With my defenses down, weary from the road and the street, tired and hungry, I made another fatal flaw.

I gave my brother a detailed account of my campaign. He asked me if I was gonna stop to which I responded, “No, not until they catch me or kill me.” I told him of my plans to leave the country and then come back at a later date to resume my campaign. Everything was being taped by the FBI.

After we talked I asked my brother to drive me to the northern suburbs so that I could talk to a former employer about some work. On the way to Northglenn, we talked about family affairs and such. I was happy to be with my brother I hadn’t seen in over a decade, I was happy that I would be sleeping in a hotel that evening and I thought everything was starting to look up. My brother dropped me off and gave me a hug and a kiss. As I happily exited the car my last words were, “See you tonight bro… love ya!” He drove off and I went to talk to my former employer about construction work.

There didn’t seem to be anything immediate but there would be some drywall work coming up in a couple weeks. I headed off on foot towards the bus stop. Northglenn was the suburb of Denver I had spent my teenage years. My grandmother used to own a house just a few blocks from my former employer and two houses over from him was a house that my aunt lived in for many years as well. She had since moved and sold her home to the Robbs, a family that also had roots in Northglenn. As I walked by my aunt’s old house, the Robbs were having a barbeque of dead animals. They said hello and I walked up into the front lawn to talk for a few moments. And then, as fast as lightening, the ATF, FBI and Joint Terrorism Task Force descended upon me, guns drawn and ready to shoot… I was under arrest.

“What’s it like to be in jail or prison?”

The ATF drove me to Glendale to be booked in. That is in South Denver. Before we arrived at the police station, the ATF took a detour by the burned out remains of The Sheepskin Factory. The thing about being arrested for arson is that everybody assumes you are a compulsive pyromaniac. I’m sure the vehicle I was being transported in had cameras in the cab. Unfortunately, the sight of a burned building doesn’t make me laugh hysterically or even start rubbing my hands in excitement.

Once at the police station I was put in a small interrogation room with two detectives and an FBI agent. I was told, and I quote, “You will now be given the opportunity and privilege to talk to the FBI.” My response was, “I have nothing to say.” The agent then threatened to arrest my brother (which he knew was their number one snitch) simply for having talked to me. I said nothing. Then he had some dialog with the detective in front of me about how, “it looks like he doesn’t want to help himself.” I stared at the wall behind their heads and remained silent. And that was it: five minutes of not talking. And no other agent has ever questioned me again.

Next came what I like to call the system and the media fucking with me. First I went through booking in Glendale for 3 hours. Then I was transported to Denver City Jail and sent through booking for 13 hours. Then I was allowed to sleep 2 hours before my initial court appearance and moved again to Golden, Colorado for 8 more hours of, you guessed it, booking.

For nearly two days I barely ate (nothing is vegan except fruit in the sack lunches you get when you’re in Receiving). I got 2 hours of sleep and kept getting passed from one deputy to another at various County Jails, and aside from fingerprinting me and processing me in, they kept up with the questions which I refused to even acknowledge, let alone answer. Then finally, a cell and sleep.

The next morning I was awakened by an inmate pounding on my cell door, telling me, “Come out here (the commons area outside our cell), you’re on The News!” I stumbled out into the pod and watched myself on T.V. All I remembered from that new story was that mugshot was the worst picture of me on earth! The next media I saw about my case they said I was arrested at a BBQ eating beef burgers! I was pissed off that the media had sought to make me look like a hypocrite and joke, with their lies. Looking back now I can see that I’ve grown. I no longer care what the media says about me, or anything for that matter. But upon arrest, it was a big deal to me.

As far as what my time was like in jail in Golden, Colorado, it was difficult. County Jail is the worst part of doing time. Since most people that come to county are going to leave within 30 days, it’s not set up with much to do. In Jefferson County I was locked down 19 hours a day in a two man cell the size of a small bathroom. Most of my cellies were detoxing heroin addicts or petty criminals.

Another part of County time that sucks is all anybody wants to talk about is their charges or their case, which, when you’re facing serious time, you spend a lot of your day wishing you could focus on anything else.

Here is another truth about doing time. Whether you are in County Jail, prison or the hole, there are things about that facility you will like or dislike (in comparison to other jails that you get carted around to). For instance, although I was confined to my cell a lot in Jeffco (Jefferson County), they fed me a vegan diet! My meal trays came to me with a computer printed sticker that said “BOND, VEGAN” in big letters! And I also had an amazing view of the mountains.

As far as dealing with the inmate population, that was not difficult either. First off, whether inmates agree with you or not, they tend to respect a person that stands up for their beliefs. Secondly, jail and prison work by a kind of pecking order. Part of that pecking order is related to the severity of your crime. The only true outcasts in prison are sex offenders and snitches. So as the new guy when I’m asked, “What are you in for?” and I respond, “3 federal arson charges with domestic terrorism enhancements,” it immediately puts me in the class of serious criminals. Third, I’m outgoing and good with people. Jail is full of people, so it’s a trait that serves me well. And lastly, I am admittedly somewhat of an alpha male with an abrupt temper (it’s not my fault… I’m an Aries).

I guess the best advice I could give anyone that finds themselves in prison or jail someday is this. Walk with pride, be respectful and don’t be eager to buddy up with people; let them approach you. And most importantly don’t make a big deal about it. Yes, it sucks. Yes, I would rather be anywhere else. But millions of people are in prison and they cope and survive. It’s all just a part of fighting this evil empire. Or being poor, or black, or native, or “illegal” or a pothead, or… you get the idea.

There are however additional stresses to being a prisoner of war or political prisoner. The first letter I ever received in Jeffco was from some anonymous person accusing me of being a hypocrite and joke to all “real animal rights activists”. As the weeks went on I began getting printouts from the internet about all the movement chatter. People seemed upset that I had too many tattoos and rumors abounded.

The first interview I granted was with some 50ish academic establishment animal rights welfarist creep. He showed up to the jail, started poking fun at my tattoos and began his interview by saying, “I’m wearing a leather belt. If you could, would you choke me with it?” I said, “Only if I thought I could get away with it.” He actually scooted his chair back a little. Next he told me that his mother’s house had been burned down by an arsonist and that he strongly disagreed with my tactics to which I responded, “Then don’t employ arson as a tactic.” Once we got into the issues of animal liberation, I debated him with savvy until he admitted that I really did know what I was taking about.

I left that interview with a bad taste in my mouth. Instead of allowing the system’s media and divisive elements within the A.R. community to pick me apart, I decided to fight back with my pencil. The first article I wrote was entitled “Why I Am Vegan”. In it I detailed my path to veganism and animal liberation. Having built two slaughterhouses as a teenager, I saw firsthand the grotesque evil that happens to animals in food production. I’m happy to say that internet article was posted far and wide and well received.

The support mail began rolling in. If there is one thing that I look forward to every weekday in jail, it’s mail call. I cannot stress enough how important it is to write prisoners. When I am fatigued or overwhelmed, it’s supportive mail from like-minded people that keeps me going. It also reminds me that I’m still someone to somebody out there. Prison is geared towards stripping down your sense of worth. As time rolls by, it’s easy to give up on everything and just become part of the prison politics.

So I began to write more articles and my supporters, etc. Not only has writing been an effective way to stay active in animal lib, but it’s been a great coping mechanism. The courts always try to scare you into not speaking out along with their lawyers. The idea is for you to just sit there quietly, let the media vilify you, let the system use you to scare any other would-be militants and of course grovel and beg for mercy as if you were in front of God Almighty.

What a crock of shit! Many people have asked me how I am able to remain defiant through all this and that’s a simple answer. I care more about the animals and my beliefs than I do about myself. All the big talk you hear about how much we vegans care about the animals no matter what the price, well I actually feel that way. Plus I guess I just don’t feel like kissing anyone’s ass, be they business owners or the U.S. government. I’d rather go down swinging than degrading myself. But that’s just me, that’s how I roll.

That said, I wrote my final statement to the court in Colorado about two months before sentencing. It took me about 45 minutes. I sat down at the desk in my cell and just let it rip. My thought process was, “What would I say if I had no fear and nothing to lose?” Writing it and speaking it in court were two different things. On my day of sentencing I was a nervous wreck. Saying my final statement felt like looking down the barrel of a gun and saying, go ahead shoot me! To my surprise I received the mandatory minimum sentence of 5 years.

Great news to be sure, but unfortunately there’s another shoe yet to drop, and that shoe is called Utah. Early on in the court process I tried to have my Utah charges dealt with all at once while in Denver. Being as all my charges are federal and not state, meaning that my crimes are not legally seen as crimes against Colorado and Utah, but against America, I can be tried for any of them in any federal court in America. The word that my attorney and I received from Utah was a definite no. I was to be tried in Utah separately.

After sentencing in Denver I began my three weeks in transit to Salt Lake City. Denver and SLC are a nine hour drive from each other. But before I was to go west, I was flown east to the Transfer Center at Oklahoma City. Upon arrival I was separated immediately from the other forty or so inmates. I was told I would be held in the special housing unit or SHU, which is just a way of saying the hole. In the SHU you have a shower in your cell and you are locked down 23 hours a day. When I asked why I was not going into general population, a corrections officer came over with a clipboard and said, “You are part of the Animal Liberation Front. That is a security threat group to the United States of America. While you’re here, that’s where you’ll be.”

For five days I was in a cell in the SHU by myself. But for my last two days I had a cellie, a small Hindu political prisoner from Singapore. He had basically been kidnapped by the CIA and brought to America because he gave a friend a ride to the airport and that friend was under investigation for gun running to Al-Qaeda. My feelings were mixed. While I was happy to not be alone in my cell and my cellie was an educated and interesting man, it really began to strike home that they (the FBI) seriously think I’m a terrorist.

A couple days later I was in the air again, but instead of landing in Salt Lake I was taken to Nevada Southern Federal Detention Center. During the booking in process it looked as if I would be going to general population and then the gang coordinator took me to the side to ask me some “routine questions”. His first question was, “So are you some kind of terrorist?” I said no. His second question was, “Are you some kind of activist?” I said, “I am affiliated with the Animal Liberation Front.” And so I was taken to “administrative segregation” – another fancy way of saying “the hole”. I was kept there for ten days this time with no cellie. But I did have an interesting neighbor that was a high ranking member of the Mexican mafia. On our hour of recreation outside in the kennels (narrow fenced in cages for U.S. convicts in the hole to pace in for an hour a day) we would exercise vigorously together.

As far as my vegan diet was concerned, both federal facilities worked with me on it. Hole time is more boring than anything. But once again, there is an upside. In prison you are hardly ever alone, so I took advantage of the solitude and did some meditation and stretching practices and a lot of exercising. Then back on the plane once more and on my way to Salt Lake City.

At his point, I had been doing county time for 8 months and after going through an entire court case in Colorado and transit to Utah, I was getting very tired of county jail and court proceedings. Upon arrival at Davis County Jail in Farmington, Utah (which is where I am currently awaiting sentencing as of the time of this writing), I requested a vegan diet, which is usually my first priority entering a new facility. I was told I was not even allowed a vegetarian tray for spiritual reasons (which is standard at any jail or prison I’ve been in). I had to fast for my first two days, until my lawyer could get a court order to make the jail feed me vegetarian meals (I am still vegan, but I must pay out of pocket for vegan commissary items to supplement what I can’t eat on my vegetarian trays.)

As expected, Utah has been a different experience than Colorado. As far as the jail itself, it’s not bad. I have more freedom of movement than in Denver and I am able to receive books from the publisher, so I’ve been reading a lot. I also have more time outside, which is nice. But that’s where anything positive ends.

As concerns my court cases in Utah, the U.S. Attorney’s office wants to turn my current 5-year sentence into a 15 year sentence and perhaps more. Apparently, it’s a big deal that I gave a heartfelt and provocative statement in Colorado. Since my extradition to Utah, I have been made aware on more than one occasion that my beliefs and words are far, far more damning than my arsons. Instead of the system being focused on my “crimes” which did about 60,000 dollars-worth of damage, as compared with the 500,000 dollars-worth of damage done in Colorado, the focus is on scaring me into shutting my mouth at what may be my only opportunity to open it.

Given that everything is “terrorism” these days, I am under no illusions that the prison system is going to house me in some fluffy Club Fed. So I speak out not only as one that defends, fights and cares for our Earth Mother and her Animal Nations, but also as a man whose pride will not allow himself to be bullied by the powers that be. The decisions I make and words I speak are for the future, with the hopes of an upsurge in activity, activity that truly liberates animals and permanently stops their exploiters.

Usually this is the point in my article where I write my inspiring and radical high note to leave the reader feeling empowered. But in this article I will end on a note of distress. My apologies in advance.

I am not your hero, or your mascot. As long as that’s what you’re looking for, that’s all you will ever find, and I promise you that you will always get let down. Every time you find a Keith Mann, Barry Horne, Rod Coronado, Peter Young or Walter Bond, all you have found is a person that decided to take matters into their own hands. And we cannot teach you how to do that, because that’s your decision, alone. At times I am embarrassed by what I see. Animals suffer and die and we do nothing. The real heroes of animals are those who work at sanctuaries or otherwise directly impact an animal’s life for the better. The only “militant animal liberation community” is the A.L.F. and the underground. Of course there are many things that must be done and doing something is always better than doing nothing. But why settle so small?

A gangster will protect his evil enterprises with violence and his own life is ready to be sacrificed at any moment. But we self-proclaimed betters won’t even risk social alienation. Cowards, fakes, frauds! If you care than prove it! Not to me, but to yourself! No matter where I end up or what happens to me, my cell, for however long I’m in it, will have a mirror, and I will always be able to look in that mirror and know there’s a real motherfucker looking back at me! And there is no potluck, convention, conversation, website, flyer or workshop that will ever compare to that!

So this is my last, unsolicited internet article that I will be writing for a while. Of course I am always open to interviews and will always respond to support mail. My next stop is sentencing on October 13th of 2011 in Salt Lake City, Utah. After that I will make the transition from county jail to federal prison where I will begin writing a detailed and definitive book about the vegan hardline, a syncretic philosophy, program of action and way of life that can and must succeed.

Until the next time remember… don’t sing it, bring it! And don’t talk about it, be about it! As for me I will continue always looking forward.

Animal Liberation, whatever it may take!

Walter Bond

A.L.F. – P.O.W.

XLoneVWolfX

Letter from Walter Bond, 29th March 2011

Well I’m in Oklahoma waiting to be transferred to Salt Lake City. They wouldn’t put me in general population because they say I’m part of a government security threat group. So I’m in solitary confinement and have been for the past 48 hours. It really sucks! Hopefully I’ll be in SLC before you get this note. I cannot use the phone or I would call. The guard that put me in here said that the only good thing about it is since I’m in the special housing unit I’m at the top of the list for transfer. That’s the only good thing about it! I guess whenever I’m done with court in Salt Lake and I come back through to get classified I have to go through this again. So I’ve just been reading, working out, stretching and sleeping. I think it’s bullshit that they’re doing this to me. They probably have murderers and rapists running around in general population but I’m locked in the attic like Hannibal Lechter. Oh well, I’ll just try to kick back and stay positive. I’m sure I won’t be here long. But if I am you should call and see if I can receive my Bhagavad Gita. And ask if it’s really necessary to keep me locked up like this. Obviously let everyone know I’m not in Colorado anymore and the moment I can I will call, until then assume I am here. Take care and I’ll do the same.

P.S. So it is now 3/29/11 and I’ll be mailing this letter tomorrow. I’m only allowed to mail two letters a week and only on Wednesday. I went out to recreation today and the guard told me most people are only here on the average of a week. So I’m sure my stay here will be short lived. This is a classification center only. As I remember from my last time incarcerated classification is always lame. The good news is I got a cellie yesterday. He is from Singapore, his English is good and he is a Hindu. It is very nice to have company. I got a copy of Bhagavad Gita from the Chaplain and my diet straightened out so that’s good as well. Hopefully I’m out of here by the time you get this. We shall see. So my federal prison number is 37096-013 and it will remain the same wherever I’m at in the federal prison system. My guess is that when I do leave here I’ll be going to Salt Lake’s County Jail since that’s where I have court and there is no federal prison there.

Update 11th February 2011:

Walter Bond received the minimum sentence allowed: 5 years in prison and 3 years probation. The judge had read all 50 letters from his supporters, which had been written to her, and urged Bond to rather write more about Animal Liberation than commit arson as he was so intelligent.

In his final statement to the Court at his sentencing: Walter Bond said how the lack of care for “the miserable lives that sheep, cows and mink had to endure, unto death, so that a Colorado business could profit from their confinement, enslavement, and murder” led him to illegal direct action, while taking every precaution not to harm any person or bystander. He thanked his supporters, urged them not to be dismayed at his incarceration, and advocated selflessness, education, agitation and confrontation for “those responsible for the death of our Mother Earth and her Animal Nations.” He stated that ALF is the answer to fighting on behalf of animals.

Walter has been charged with an arson attack at the Denver Sheepskin Factory, Colorado which caused $500,000 worth of damage.  He is also under investigation for two other arson attacks; the Tandy Leather Factory and Tiburon a restaurant selling Foie Gras.

07.01.2011 Walter Bond joins the North American Animal Liberation Press Office as its newest Press Officer (NAALPO)

How to donate to Walter’s commissary fund and legal defence

Walter can urgently use funds donated to his commissary account at the Jefferson County Jail; he can use the money for vegan food, toiletries, stamps and envelopes, and other personal items to make his life in their cage a bit more tolerable. Please help with whatever you can, as soon as you can, and please follow the instructions below carefully to ensure Walter gets the money as soon as possible. There are 2 ways to donate:

1. Mail a United States Postal Service money order, made payable to the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office Detention Services Division (with Walter Bond # P01051760 in the memo line). You may mail it to the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office at P.O. Box 16700, Golden, CO 80402. Bank money orders and personal checks are not accepted.

2. If you want to send money for Walter’s legal defense, then Paypal funds to naalpo@yahoo.ca, or mail cash, money order or personal check made out to NAALPO to our office at 6320 Canoga Avenue, Suite 1500, Woodland Hills, CA 91367. Put Walter’s name somewhere on the correspondence. If enough funds are collected to aid Walter’s legal defense, we will arrange that; if not, funds will be returned to Walter’s commissary fund or otherwise used for whatever he wishes.

11.03.2011 Official Public Letter from Walter: In Defense of the Underground

There is a war. Every second 321 farmed animals are slaughtered. Every year nearly 200 Billion pounds of milk are produced by the rape of “dairy” cows. Nine Billion chickens are murdered annually so that flesh eating bastards can dine on Gore and filth. All too often we fear these numbers and they fly right over our heads.

Did you know that you don’t even reach a billion seconds of age until nearly 35 years old. Are you aware that right now and animal is being tortured to death by demons and lab coats, for entertainment, food, clothing, vivisection and any other trivial and redundant reason you can imagine, animals suffer and die worst deaths than we can even rack or minds around. And what do we do? We posture and pose. We debate the validity of tactics like arson because there may be a field mouse in the wall. How many bugs, snakes and nocturnal critters have you killed with your metal monster, I mean car? If you saw a man skin a cat in a field so that he could sell its “pelt” which are not run over and stop him because you might step on a mouse unseen in the grass? Give me a break. If these are your ridiculous reasons for not joining or supporting the animal liberation front then you are a pretend friend to animals. Let me guess, you’re a pacifist. Yeah right, I doubt it.

If you were in a cage being raped, beaten and violently tortured and murdered you would want someone to liberate you, stop your torturer with brute force and the building that they held you in to be burnt to the ground. You’re only a pacifist when it’s not your neck on the chopping block. I’d bet my life on it. What else, oh yes, you’re a vegan you’re doing your part. Non-participation in evil is obviously the first step but your veganism is not saving any lives. The human population is growing, on the day you or I went vegan 100,000 kids got weaned into flesh as food. And veganism doesn’t turn you into an instant activist, only being active can do that. Example, I am not a rapist, I never have been, I never will be. But wouldn’t it be dishonest for me to represent myself as a rape prevention activist? Simply because I don’t engage in said behavior. Well if it’s that easy to be pro active then I’m also a human rights activist, I’m an activist against child molestation, I’m an activist against domestic violence. Actually there is so many evils I don’t participate in I’m actually solving the entire world’s problems, by not doing anything? hmmm… how conveniently lazy and apathetic.

Actually if you find a behavior or system of abuse deplorable the least you can do is not participate in it. Then you have the militant posers. You’ve got every earth crisis and hardline vegan album and T-shirt ever made. You look the part and talked the talk better than the rest. In fact the more years you pose like this the more others in the scene respect you. Once in a blue moon you go to a protest so that you can knock the dust off your baklava and get some pictures of yourself looking like an animal rights ninja. And if I called you out on your bullshit to your face you would say something like “you have no idea, what I do when the sun goes down.” Yes I do, you go to bed. The only time you should put a bandanna on your face is if you are cleaning a chicken barn at a sanctuary or about to kick ass for the animals. To do otherwise is to disgrace the institution of radicalism and make a mockery of the sacrifices of real earth and animal liberation warriors. The most powerful way is to become a direct activist. That means centering your activity in the tactics around endeavors that either directly help and save animals were directly confront their exploiters.

Something you can do to help animals or work at a sanctuary or help them out with a few bucks since caring for animals can be costly or you can do a home demo, you can let an animal exploiter and their neighbors know that killing animals or profiting from their dead bodies is sick and wrong and will not be tolerated. Or best of all you can join the underground resistance and make the most impact.

Since 1976 the animal liberation front has been saving animals lives and shutting down places of abuse and harm. The ALF has also educated the public through hundreds of communiqués that not only is there cruelty going on behind the scenes but that it will not be tolerated. Actions for animals have been nightly all over the world. But there are others in the underground as well. The brave and noble warriors of the animal rights militia and Justice Department employ all the same tactics of the animal liberation front but are not restricted by a philosophy of nonviolence. I think that’s great. Anything that stops animal exploitation is of value and anything that allows animal use and abuse to continue is unacceptable. Even as I write this I can hear the hysterics of apathetic animal rights activists misplaced contention. Really, why don’t you lose your marbles over the fact that US soldiers have been murdering brown people in the desert for over a decade straight.? Where’s your outrage when police execute blacks on camera and in public?

True to pacifists hypocrisy you aren’t appalled by violence you’re appalled by unsanctioned violence. This is because many of our own activists are as insane as the society they live in. If you are more freaked out by the statement “not restricted by a philosophy of nonviolence” then you were by the statement “every second 321 farm animals are slaughtered” then this is testimony to your faulty morality. The issue of animal abuse and death are credibly serious for the industry beings involved. To them it is unimaginable wickedness. Morally it’s depravity at its worst. Because not only is it unnecessary killing, it’s the murder of innocent beings which compounds the evil. The environmental impacts are staggering as well. Deforestation and grazing for livestock go hand-in-hand. 55% of all drinking water is used for the raising of that “livestock”. Waste runoff is the number one polluter of the other 45% of that drinking water. Anyway you look at it you can not build a just system off the most cruel and objectification’s in the worlds history!

We treat animals with no regard because they are the least able to defend themselves in an organized way. And from there all the way up the hierarchy of exploitation may get used and abused according to your inability to defend yourself from attack. What a sad and sick construct. There is such a thing as cause and effect. Spiritualists call it karma. No matter what you call it it’s unavoidable and inescapable. In the case of animal liberation what it means is you are not going to fight and succeed against the most proactive evil that our animal sisters and brothers endure by eating soy yogurt or lighting candles. Industries that make billions of dollars off the systematic murder don’t stop because of morality. If they had a shred of decency they wouldn’t have gotten into that business to begin with. They stopped because they are fought and they lose. It’s the only language that any bully understands. Now I don’t expect every vegan to spring into action and become a warrior for animals, obviously that’s not going to happen. But badmouthing and standing against those that are actually saving animals or taking the fight for their freedom to the exploiters front doors and businesses is unacceptable. I will tell you here and now that that you disgust me and you have no idea the risks that we in the underground take. And all that we sacrifice to be who we are. Until you couch surfers and armchair generals can match your high and mighty opinions with actions than those opinions are invalid. This is a war and the earth and animals have hardly any human resistance on their side. As long as vegans and so-called animal rights activists succumb to compassionate apathy then the rest of us are obligated to become fire breathing fanatics. You can’t escape clause and effect.

When I was arrested I had in my backpack a copy of a manifesto entitled “Declaration of War” (Free pdf | Buy book) by screaming wolf. It is the single most dynamic and powerful manuscript for animal liberation I have ever read. While parts of it are date its principles and programs of action are timeless. Read it, reread it let its truths empower you and then become a liberator. If that is not within your realm of possibility. Then start an animal liberation front support group. Help an actual animal, protest aggressively, if you’re not vegan, go vegan. Do something besides hiding your cowardice by attacking other’s bravery! Right now in Mexico the ALF and ELF are leading the way in activism and have been for years they are shining example for us all to follow. Support them and our person comrade Adrian who is vegan in the Third World prison and remains defiant in the face in of adversity. Until society stops exploiting animals. We are at war with society. Until there is an end to the destruction of the planet there will be no end to the destruction of property. As long as they are is an enslaved animal and an exploiter for pleasure or profit then there will always be someone to take the place of an imprisoned ALF activist.

Animal liberation, whatever it may take!

Walter Bond,

Press Officer

North American Animal Liberation Press Office

Prisoner of War

Vegan Wolf Tribe

by Walter Bond, NAALPO Press Officer

Well, my sentencing is right around the corner and the last 12 months of my life have been interesting ad tumultuous to say the least. A good friend once told me “People that live best and are the most well received are those that represent themselves exactly as they are”. That has proved to be the most accurate and difficult statement to live up to I have ever heard. Well buddy “We win again!” Sometimes I’ve felt like Atlas with the weight of the world on my shoulders. But my supporters have been amazing and your efforts never go unappreciated by me. That said I wish to express my thanks.

First and foremost, to the animals that have changed my life. To E.T. (Extra Trouble) the most amazing cat I have ever known. To all the hogs I saw die at IBP I am still sorry and disgusted with my own inaction and you will always be my sense of urgency. To the Llama, Carrie that always came running to give me Llama kisses. To Jeffrey Thomas, the best Goat ever. R.I.P to Francis the Sheep that Suzie, Chad and I buried. Thanks for teaching me that what we do is important because life doesn’t last. To Lerr the Rooster who went from a cage straight to my lap and taught me that roosters can purr. Thanks to “Walter” the Turkey that was liberated on Thanksgiving week of 2009 because another activist couldn’t just take pictures of those sheds without saving one. To the Deer who got away because I unburied those poacher’s salt licks and tossed them in the lake. To Reese the Greyhound that went through hell and now only runs when he wants to. And to all those I couldn’t save, I’m so sorry I failed you.

As an A.L.F. operate and Direct Activist, I was the “Lone Wolf”. I am no longer alone. Many people I have never met have rushed to my aid now that I’m in a cage. Along with a few old friends. It’s a curious thing when you become a political prisoner, people you assumed would always have your back can be the first to denounce or distance themselves. And others you would never expect to be are in your corner. I am learning to not judge people so harshly or trust people so readily. Those people in my life (since my arrest) that have had my best interest at heart have offered me loyalty, ferocity, defense from attack and true love. Whether near or far, you are my vegan wolf tribe.

Huge thanks to Elizabeth for keeping me sane when I’m falling apart at the seams. You are always more concerned with my well being than I am , much love my vegan sister. Thank you Michele for showing me that women possess an emotional intelligence and intuitiveness that we men do not, but can always learn from. Thanks to everyone in Denver that visits me a half hour a week through busted Plexiglas. Thank you Judith for writing me far more than I am ever able to write back. Thank you to Salt Lake City simply for being Salt Lake City. Love it or leave it. The Support Walter Crew: the best support an activist could ever hope for. To NAALPO for being the most amazing, uncompromising voice of animal liberation, bar none!

With that said, I am proud that I’ve become the first ever imprisoned Press Officer of the North American Animal Liberation Press Office. I assure you it is not a paper title. I have recently been doing interviews with a couple different press outlets. As many of you know, I continue writing essays and will continue to while dealing with court and jail here and in Salt Lake City. And once the final gavel has swung I will begin writing a book or two. As an imprisoned activist I feel a responsibility to set a positive example of continued activism. There is too much of a fear culture within Animal and Earth Liberation movements. Phrases like “Green Scare” really only succeed in conveying the message that we’re scared to be green, or that we should be. I cannot accept that, I will not. The proper response to evil and oppression is outrage, not fear. But I do not give orders. I command nothing. Leaderless resistance is the winning model in the legal above ground and clandestine underground. Leaders are part of a hierarchy that oppresses, misdirects and hides their cowardice behind others’ actions.

Instead, I will show you with my actions and outspokenness that one person as fucked up as you are, or maybe even more so, can do something, mean it, not back down and keep going. When I step into that courtroom on Feb 11th I am not only representing myself, I am representing all those who support me and my actions. I will be speaking to a courtroom of people. But also future generations of activists. Activists that will either feel empowered to save animals lives today and tomorrow, or activists that will be taught by example to fear the throng. If you think I would let down this movement or the animals by folding like a lawn chair, then you truly do not understand the loyalty and selflessness of a wolf.

Animal Liberation, Whatever it May Take!

Walter Bond

Press Officer

North American Animal Liberation Press Office

Essay by Walter Bond (4th December 2010):

I Am the ALF “Lone Wolf”

On April 30, 2010 at 3:30 am I burned the Sheepskin Factory in Denver, Colorado to the ground.  I did so strictly following Animal Liberation Front (ALF) guidelines to harm no life while at the same time maximizing damage to a business of animal exploitation.  I used the nickname “Lone Wolf” in my communications to the media, even though I knew that using such a moniker made my actions easier for the authorities to link together.  I did it for a specific reason that I will get to a little later in this article, but for now, let me back up and explain how and why I came to join the Animal Liberation Front.

My start in animal rights began about 14 years ago.  I would order pamphlets about vivisection, veganism, factory farms, and other forms of animal abuse and put them on windshields in parking lots and on community bulletin boards.  I was very zealous in wanting to educate people.  Having worked building slaughterhouses, I was certain that if everyone knew what I knew they would all become vegan.  After about a year of such flyering, I ended up having my activism interrupted with a prison sentence for arson (that crime was not animal rights-related, but also harmed no living being).  During the 4 years of my incarceration, I studied animal rights, biocentrism, philosophy, world history, evolution, religion, mythology, law, social justice movements, politics, sociology; anything I could get my hands on that was non-fiction.  Some people go to Penn State, I got my education at the State Pen.

In any event, upon my release from prison and completion of parole, I moved back to Denver, Colorado, the city where I had spent my teenage years.  I had a couple of close friends still kicking around the north suburbs, and also had an aunt and some cousins there.  By this time, it was 2003.  I had by now surmised that it wasn’t a lack of education that allowed cruelty to animals to continue, because animal rights activists had uncovered and publicized so much video evidence of profound evil in vivisection labs, slaughterhouses, and entertainment over the last three decades that the gore would gag a maggot.  Nor was it a problem of disseminating this information; with the meteoric rise of the internet, anyone who wanted to know what happened to their “meal” could find out at the push of a button and click of the mouse.

I had talked with enough people by this point to see that deep down inside not everyone is a caring vegan.  Lots of people don’t care at all for animals, they just have cat and dog fetishes, or they care right up to the point where you ask them to stop eating the dead carcasses of murdered animals.  I found many people far more outraged at the fact that I was bringing the issues up than at the issues themselves.  Apparently, if you support death and slavery three times a day, thats not a problem, but if I point that fact out, then I’m the asshole.  I decided to turn my attention to the animals themselves.

Much of that period of time I cannot detail, since saving animals from death and torture is considered terrorism by the United States government.  But I will say this: when you take the risk to save an animal from a horrible death and look into their eyes and see the gratitude and love, it changes you.  On that day you become a better person and you once again know right from wrong with child-like simplicity.

Eventually being a social person, I began mingling with the local vegan community.  I was invited to a local meet-up, where I immediately felt out of place.  The local Denver vegan community had about as much diversity in it as a Ku Klux Klan rally.  I had been working part-time with an abolition animal rights organization whose main focus were the promotion of veganism and speaking out for farm animals , especially so-called “free range” and “cage free”.  As the night wore on,many of the trust fund-afarian and hypocrites started to let their high and mighty opinions fly, due to the ridiculous amounts of beer that they were ingesting.  What ensued next was akin to some creepy form of speed-dating where everyone went around in a circle and very briefly introduced themselves, named their occupation, and told what they did for animals.  Never before or since have I witnessed such intellectual egoism.

When it was my turn, I mentioned my stand against “free range”; I was met instantly with eye rolls and rationalizations about it being “a step in the right direction” and “Rome wasn’t built in a day”, even “I’m vegan but I am so glad that meat-eaters now have a humane and cruelty-free alternative”!  My response was “I can’t believe I am listening to a group of vegans promoting animal use”!  After this, a huge argument ensued and I left that meet-up determined to expose “free range” and once again educate everyone I could.  Only this time with more zeal and vigor than ever.

I began flyering all over Denver about “free range”; thousands of windshields all throughout downtown.  I would flyer until my thumb and fingers were blistered from lifting windshield wipers.  I tabled at events and talked with hundreds of people. I went to punk and hardcore concerts and tried to recruit the youth.  I began laying the groundwork for a group I called V.F.L. (Vegan For Life); in short, I did everything in my power to motivate and promote animal liberation, even at work.  By this time I was a bulk foods manager for a local health food store.  I got “VEGAN” tattooed across my throat and talked with any customer that would approach me about it, which was a lot of people in and of itself.

For a while, I had a blog where I wrote articles and sought to revive and revise the vegan hardline philosophy.  However, the more I did, the more my frustration grew.  People that I talked to at tabling events would listen to all I had to say about dairy cows being raped for their milk, their calves being turned into veal, then the cows themselves being turned into burgers and leather.  People would stare back at me blankly and respond “Man, I couldn’t give up cheese, dude.  Cheese is so good…” I would go back to areas I had flyered only to find half the flyers on the ground.

All the punk rock kids thought it was okay to eat meat as long as it was out of a dumpster, and the hardcore and straightedge kids were more into practicing dance moves and playing video games than putting their back into their beliefs.  I became burnt out.

The few friends I had liked to talk about how righteous we were for being vegan and how wrong the rest of the world was, blah, blah, blah.  I got burnt out on everything, I became as annoyed with pretentious vegans as I was with anyone else. For a few months, all I did was work and not do much of anything else.  I was depressed because I felt marginalized and ineffective; I began daydreaming at work about what I would do if I had no fear, nothing to lose.  I would be a member of that clandestine underground, I would be an Animal Liberation Front operative.  The more I thought about it, the happier I became.  Then one day while stalking the potato chip isle at work, it hit me: there’s no time like the present.  I quit my job and left my normal life in isle seven of a health food store.

The first thing I knew was that I would work alone.  I had known and been around many different local activists and there was not one of them I would have considered up to the challenge.  The next thing I knew was that I wanted to go big.  With the current government crackdown on any kind of effective animal rights campaign, I might as well go for it.  If they’re gonna try to catch me and call me a terrorist for breaking a McDonald’s window, I might as well think much bigger.

I picked the Sheepskin Factory in Denver for two reasons.  Primarily because they make a lot of money selling pelts and fur, animals suffer and die so that people can have a fuzzy steering wheel on soft cushion on a motorcycle seat.  In my opinion, they are no better than the Nazis that made  hobbycraft items out of Jews.  Secondly, the place just looked flammable.  I will never divulge how I did it because its not important; where there’s a will, there’s a way.

After it was all said and done, I felt great!  I had destroyed an animal exploitation facility and I had cost the animal industry half a million dollars.  I used the name “ALF Lone Wolf” in the media to convey to my ALF brothers and sisters worldwide (whoever they are) the power of acting alone. I wanted anyone that cares to know that one person can accomplish a lot. Unfortunately, I was apprehended because of an informant; my deepest regret is that I confided in this one person.  But still the principle stands; all I was tricked into doing was telling on myself and my entire 3-month campaign cost me 150 bucks, and cost animal abusers three-quarters of a million dollars.

On February 11, 2011 I will be sentenced.  Whatever sentence is imposed will only be a third of my tribulations; I still have to face charges in Utah.  The US Attorneys want people to think That the Animal Liberation Front, and me in particular, are terrorists.  I am not a terrorist, and the ALF is not a terrorist organization; actually, its not even an organization.  The ALF is any vegan or vegetarian that harms no life and decides by illegal means to liberate animals and/or cause economic damage to those that profit from animal use and abuse.  Since our inception in 1976, no animal or human has been harmed; quite the opposite.  Thousands of lives have been saved and thousands of animal abusers have been stopped.  A terrorist is a person or group that targets and kills innocent beings to create panic and control by fear.

On April 30^th, 3:30 in the morning, my life changed.  I got sick of seeing industries of death continue unchallenged and I decided to do something drastic about it.  I am proud that I had the courage to act on behalf of those that cannot defend themselves.  I can look deep into my heart know that I did not fail them and I did all that I could; and believe me, when you live in a cage that’s all you wish for someone to do.  Animal liberation, whatever it may take!

Letter from Walter Bond, 10th August 2010

Thanks so much for your letter of support. While obviously I cannot talk about my case, the government of the United States will not scare me into submission nor will I be silenced.

I am facing some very serious charges and allegations at this time and if convicted, sentencing could be quite severe. Nevertheless, I am in good spirits. Having the privilege of being a United States prisoner, I still have it better than most 3rd World people do in their homelands. And nothing they do to me could even come close to the plight of animals.

For my part, I shall never relent in the fight for their total freedom. Any activist that is truly effective at resisting or disrupting these horrible blood trades may face persecution. There is no cause to despair in any of this. When you are trying to change the status quo, self-sacrifice is the price of admission.

In the end our cause will win. Either humanity will perish after having ruined the biosphere and our Mother Earth will heal and continue without us or those who profess to be Earth and animal warriors will prove it and change the current of world history, as so many social justice movements before us have done.

However, we will not win simply because we are right. Progress only occurs because of courage and confrontation.

I hope to hear from you soon. I can receive literature and media (news articles, etc), but only printed from the computer. No newspaper clippings, magazines, etc. Also, any monetary support would be much appreciated as well.

Regards,

Walter Bond