Tuesday, 2 June 2015

It's time for a conversation about race....If MSNBC chooses the meanings of the words in the debate....then its Adios


Yanomami girl at Xidea,
 Brazil.  She also doubles
as a back-up astronaut in
the Brazilian Space

    The title of this entry say it all.   And....if anyone uses any of these words, phrases, or related concepts.....the game is done.   Dr. Watson can leave his pistol in the drawer of his desk.   Concepts from the left such as gender equality, "gay" for homosexual, equal rights, civil rights, hope, change, progressive, equality, dialogue, centre-city renovation, and let us never forget, issues important to minorities.

    Issues such as, you know, the Negro Weather Report.....something akin to the Zuni and Havasu Drive-home traffic conditions and weather together.
   The announcer on the car radio shouts to his audience, "And now, the Eskimo Wall Street Market Closing reports and financial news.   When that is over," he shouts out cheerily, "we'll return to Tuscan Kitchen for Yanomamis from the Amazon upper basin."
       My radio-television conglomerate billion-dollar-a-day company will make certain that we do everything possible to have full-scale diversity and relevance.   So every 30 minute news cycle will have 4,201 hours of  simultaneous, multilingual, same-screen, minority-relevant news, weather, and sports.
     We shall also strive to intersperse an appropriate number of procto-urologically relevant advertisements, along with ads for the stupid-community who think that "first-accident forgiveness" insurance is anything more or less than paying the higher premium for a presumed certainty of employment of the insurance policy by the stupid driver who is a clear and present danger to him/her/jenner/it/ and/or self.
     We simply must "reach out"  to people who can, with a straight face raise their arms, as taught by the Obsolete Media and Al Sharpton, the Muslim Brotherhood (Obama's favourite charity), and drone, "Don't shoot! Hands up!", whatever that means.   We must begin a dialogue with people who are so stupid, vapid, ignorant, or hopelessly lost in a quagmire of illogique and narcissism that they think the only black lives that matter are the thugs, criminals, and degenerates who finally managed to back themselves into that ultimate corner.....where they finally were killed, justifiably or accidentally, by the police or security officers.

Residents hang out at the basketball court at Algin Sutton Recreation Center in South Los Angeles. The center is being included in the city's Summer Night Lights program to reduce gang violence. (AP)
Midnight Basketball adding to Global
Warmingcoolingclimatechange and
furthering the unearned profits of the
1% by employing un-necessary power
to lights that prove the un-fairness of
providing to basketball players who
are not blind.  Please note that almost
any bicycle is operated by a "hawk"
whose job it is to inform about un-
marked police units and OG's
encroaching on "our turf".
   Of course, the other 99 per cent of the dead black folks were done in by other black folks, who shot, beat, stabbed, done-run-down, or burned to death with their own used tire, loaded up with kerosene, and hung over a person's neck, a la Queen Mandela, South Africa's mirror-image of (Sir Edmund) Hillary.

    "After all, the mf aint gib me my 40 dollars for the bag...an he tol' me 4:00 yestiddy and he be duh noshow. "
    "Well, yes Mr. Mohammed da' Mankilla....but you killed a human being over a 40 dollar debt?"
    "Shoooa, mf, I always ain't let no one get down by me...I always put'em down fust, mf."

      And, of course, it must be pointed out that the fellow who "put down" the guy who did not pay up his 40 dollars, is a Ph.D. and an associate professor of the School of Studies of Transgendered Minority Men/Women who develop stress brought on by learning that the Giraffe they/he/she/it married was part of a  Lesbian Giraffe Polygamy sect.   They are presently both in a midnight basketball - polygamy - bestiality - cross/re/trans/gendered out-reach programme operated by Al Sharpton down at the new courts that they stole the rims of'n.   Mohammed da' Mankilla has to wake up early to-morrow to greet his graduate level class enrolled in "White Privilege  in Contrast with the True Builders of the Pyramids, the Coliseum, the Arch du Triumph

     Now, can we have a conversation....like trying to figure out why Sandra Fluke wants my daughter and granddaughters to pay for her contraceptives?   We need to have conversations.   Conversation is a word that right-brain-only leftists use when they mean that they want to shout down anything that has not been programmed into them by deranged "professors" gaining incredible salaries....for essentially doing nothing.  That nothing is the same the work that Fidel, Karl, Adolf, and Company did repeatedly, after gaining control of various beautiful, at times magnificent, countries.
    Conversation is a buzzword for "Traditionalists!!!! SHUT UP!!!"

     We leave the OROGs with this message to tell your friends.  If it is not first recognised that there is nothing that can be done with the vermin-whelp of this generation, then forget it.
      It is necessary that we reach back when there were pictures of Jesus and Moses on the walls of the classrooms.     It is necessary that we march bravely back to that point where each of us had to recite the 23rd Psalm FROM MEMORY in the Fifth Grade.....the preamble to the Constitution in the Sixth Grade FROM MEMORY.....the stupid Gettysburg Address in the 8th Grade (I did that and also General Robert Edward Lee's Farewell Address to the Army of Northern Virginia) both FROM MEMORY!!.

Headquarters, Army of Northern Virginia, 10th April 1865.
General Order
No. 9
     After four years of arduous service marked by unsurpassed courage and fortitude, the Army of Northern Virginia has been compelled to yield to overwhelming numbers and resources.
      I need not tell the survivors of so many hard fought battles, who have remained steadfast to the last, that I have consented to the result from no distrust of them.
      But feeling that valour and devotion could accomplish nothing that could compensate for the loss that must have attended the continuance of the contest, I have determined to avoid the useless sacrifice of those whose past services have endeared them to their countrymen.
      By the terms of the agreement, officers and men can return to their homes and remain until exchanged. You will take with you the satisfaction that proceeds from the consciousness of duty faithfully performed, and I earnestly pray that a merciful God will extend to you his blessing and protection.
     With an unceasing admiration of your constancy and devotion to your Country, and a grateful remembrance of your kind and generous consideration for myself, I bid you an affectionate farewell.

— R. E. Lee, General, General Order No. 9[1]

     It should be of interest to military men and women that the overall commander of the main combatant army and the Commander of the Armies of the Confederate States of America at the close of the War, had only issued nine (9) general orders during the four years over which he oversaw much or all of the military activities of the Nation.  It speaks volumes concerning his genius and his ability to move men by his singular presence.   Even Grant stood in his presence until Lee  was seated.


   These fellows are singing in a language that is now un-recognisable.  It is called, "English".  Their message is overly simplistic.   But it made the least of them about 144,000 dollars before he hit the age of 30 and that was  when a 1957 hard-top convertible Thunderbird with air-conditioning, and a 292 / V-8 would cost about 4,000 USD (and new tires).    They (along with others) were the inspiration for the Invictas back in those days.  That was a group that formed with David McColl in Harlingen, Texas and that would call me up when they  needed a piano/organ guy, every now and then.
   El Zorro and I tried to, essentially, take over, another group
led by Lance Smith from Edinburg/Donna, but Lance drove it into the ground before we could commit our sedition.
By the way, Billy Jeff wishes that he could play, for real, 1/10th as well as El Zorro on the Saxophone.
More later.   We have a lot of things to cover before we go to San Antonio and then down to our little mud hut.
El Gringo Viejo