Posts Tagged ‘terrorism’

“All You Could Hear Were The Screams”

Thursday, December 21st, 2017

Desperate cries of terror and pain emanating from the mass of victims and bystanders overwhelmed my hearing as I found myself entering into that moment of horror. Seconds before, a large white van with darkly tinted glass roared through the pedestrian area I had been crossing, catapulting somersaulting bodies aside in a red mist.

I had watched it all, dumbfounded.  It was a world filled to the brim with high pitched screeching, like an industrial scale poultry barn amplified too loud, mixed with coarse rasping screams tearing the air, ripping up the quiet civility this atmosphere usually knew, vocalized rejection of the reality unfolding before barely comprehending minds with impotent variations of “No!”  Beneath all that, off key and unnerving like the string section of a horror film soundtrack, was the low noise of indistinct weeping.

This visceral intensity was in stark contrast to the mundane, almost comical way the bodies had bounced, popped, and come undone when the van met them.  The shouts of warning on its approach, too, had lacked some reality, as if nobody really wanted to believe what was about to happen.  Shouting in public is not something we do.  Am I sure I want to disturb the peace?  That van really is off the road and heading towards us in an unsafe manner, right?  Excuse me fellow citizen, sorry to disturb you, but I would just like to bring to your attention the fact that there is a van that is on course to smush you, and I think you may possibly be interested to know that, thanks and sorry.

But the present noise really hit me.  Millions of years of evolution had attuned my psyche to instinctively feel an urgency to aid the source of the noise.  It was the sound of nails being dragged across a chalkboard formulated into the words “Help me now!”

It was electrifying, seemingly in every sense.  My skin was a little bit tingling and numb from the shock of the scene and the high voltage arcs of human misery being broadcast through the air from every direction.  I am slightly ashamed to admit that I did feel invigorated.  Normally when passing through this area on my way home from work my mind would be in a cloud, not present, not focused, the mundane drudgery of quotidian life having sapped my awareness of even my thoughts, so that I lumbered zombie-like through the pedestrian space, weaving automatically between various public sculptures and city-dirty trees imprisoned within concrete cells alike to get from the same start point to the same end point.

The brief carnage swept that all away and in that moment there was an immediacy and solidity to life.  The mental cloud dissipated and I found myself staring at the sun.

I took a moment to assess the scene and consider my response.  At no point had I myself been in danger, for the van had roared into the pedestrian space while I was mid-weave around a concrete sculpture large enough to block its path if it had charged at me, yet squat enough that it didn’t obstruct my view.  It was a blob shaped vaguely like a human head that had undergone a beyond-cartoonish process of abstraction and subsequently been twisted and distorted to remove all symmetry and smoothed to remove all but the grossest feature.  There was a plaque, but I’d never invested the minute it would take to read it.

The van was gone now, passed beyond a bend of the road by which it had exited the pedestrian space, perhaps pursuing mayhem beyond our sight, leaving us with a wake of mangled bodies and air charged with the sound of human pain as the only testament to its presence.

Could I help the victims?  I’d sat through a few work-mandated safety training sessions, and had absorbed a few bits of first aid there between moments of boredom, so I’d probably be able to help by stemming blood flow and performing chest compressions to forcefully animate the hearts of the unresponsive.  Should I help the victims?  I pretended to be surprised at this apathetic thought.  I would have to touch people I didn’t know, and that is awkward, we don’t normally do that.  I would get blood on my nice clothes, and I didn’t want to have to buy new ones.  I could do something wrong, and fail to keep someone alive when another bystander would have done a better job.  I could just leave, walk away, and no one would blame me, or even know.

I took some tentative steps towards the path of the van to avoid a decision.  My curiosity brought me nearer, and I found myself next to a body splayed out on the ground in a red mess, unmoving but for a slightly twitching leg.  A blank face looked sideways.  Thickly matted hair obscured the back of the head so that I couldn’t quite tell if it was shaped normally or had been deformed.  This was the body, I now remembered, that had clunked against the van’s grill, and this was the head that had made an unpleasantly goofy thunk against the van’s windshield.  It had been so rude, the way the van bopped the body so carelessly, treating the human as if it had been just matter, just a doll being tossed aside by a petulant brat.

Realizing that I was now close enough to the body that my inaction would be conspicuous to other bystanders, I stepped forward and crouched next to it.  Committed to helping, I reached out and put two fingers on its neck beside its throat.  Warm lubricating blood made the skin slide easily under my fingers as I pressed in gently.  There was a pulse, but pausing to think for a moment allowed me to recognize it as my own, a beat pounding heavily throughout my body in the electric air.  This body had none.  I moved my hands to the chest, roughly estimating where its heart would be and began rhythmically pumping.

I noticed then that a bystander had come to watch us.  As my hands worked, I looked up at his face and was at first offended by its projection of uncaring indifference, but then noticed his focused gaze.  Following it to the body’s head, I saw from this closer view that it was indeed deformed quite badly, and after staring longer, noticed some white, gray, and dark red bits mixed into its hair and spilling onto the ground.  Feeling quite foolish for trying to revive a body with a cracked-open skull, I sheepishly got up, and awkwardly walked away to salvage my dignity in the anonymity of the meandering crowd of bystanders.

Now I was a few paces from a bronze sculpture quite different from my dumb guardian.  A man in a military uniform of another time, designed to look good rather than to be unseen, sat atop a muscular rearing horse with forelegs curled high above me as if ready to box.  Its full regal mane flowed down from between its erect ears directed squarely ahead to perceive the fate to which it had been guided by its master. The man held the reigns in his left hand and in the right held a sword high in the air.  He boldly shouted a mute battle cry, rallying his invisible allies against his invisible foe.  The fused pair posed a few feet up atop a slab of stone carved with a pattern of clear borders and bevels.  Clinging to the piebald discolored metal of a hind leg I saw a modern man of flesh and blood and plastic garb.

I asked him if he was alright, and he turned his dazed, frowning face to me.  Slowly, he nodded and peeled himself off his guardian.  “What happened?” he asked, as if he hadn’t watched the whole thing from a spectacular vantage.  Not wanting to state the obvious, I shrugged, then turned to watch the hurried procession of emergency vehicles that were arriving.  Their urgent sirens grew louder as they approached, layering on top of the wails and moans, eventually drowning them out.

There was nothing left for me to do here, and my immediate presence in the mess was only a hindrance to the experts, so I removed myself a few steps away and watched the medics work.  I couldn’t say they moved slowly, but there was no urgency in their actions or faces.  They worked at saving lives as if it was their job, taking a moment first to put on disposable nitrile gloves.  The urgency pressed in around them when those who loved the bodies being worked on implored and inquired at them, but they took notice of this only when it interfered with their work, then intervening only enough to end the distraction.

I watched as one medic who had made a request to his colleague turned his head to face her as he repeated the request.  I looked at her face and saw that it had begun to twist and scrunch at the glaring horror of the scene; I thought it might implode.  Powerful electric human urgency was buzzing through her mind, frying any deliberate thoughts, creating a negative space where fear and denial echoed in a growing feedback loop.  It sucked her face into a deeper gnarl, squeezing out a few tears.  Her colleague repeated his request again, and the calm, loud, confident voice undecorated by emotion was a hand reaching out to her as she spiraled in the abyss, and she took it, focused on the narrow task she’d been given, and returned to act in the scene.

The bystanders became onlookers and began to form a crowd around the carnage and the professional work of its undoing.  A woman bumped into my shoulder, and we turned to look into each others faces.  Beaming confusion, she asked me, “Why?”, as if she didn’t already know.  Not wanting to confront the denial, I shrugged and shook my head, then began to leave.

As I rounded the corner of a skyscraper, the scene passed away and I was back among a sea of faceless pedestrians.  Had it really happened?  I looked down and saw there was blood on my hands.  Yes, it had happened. And in that happening, I thought to myself, I had helped.  I felt satisfied at my accomplishment, and my thoughts and feet turned towards home, where I’d wash up and change, then maybe order some food and read up on the news to stay up to date on this event.  Realizing I could do this now, I pulled out my phone and checked my preferred news aggregator and began to read as I walked.  The hubbub of the city around me faded from my mind and the cloud returned.

In Mandalay Massacre, Official Narrative Hides The Truth

Monday, October 9th, 2017

The official narrative attempts to do a few things at once: it wants to convince you that everything is under control, that the bad guys are who government says they are, that government is in control and not a deep state or organized crime, and that you should feel bad about something you are manipulated to support something else. The video evidence from the Las Vegas massacre shows us that the narrative is hiding the truth.

This footage shows flash bangs throughout the video, but they are not where the government is telling you to look at the Mandalay Bay Hotel, which is to the lower center-left of our map. And they are not in a hotel room. Instead, the video shows fairly obvious recurring muzzle flashes from multiple shooters moving from the left to the right in the dark while firing. They eventually wind up at the Delgado hotel elevator shaft, then escape.

These flashes start to the right of Mandalay Bay in the extremely dark area in between it and the hotel at right (the Delgado). Because that area is so dark it is very easy to see the flashes. Unlike the Mandalay windows, there are no billboard lights reflecting there. Look about halfway up in between the two hotels.

Starting at the two second mark and lasting until the six second mark, the flashes move from left to the right, possibly suggesting that a suppressor is used to cut down on light and noise. That is just one shooter. The crowd does not react en masse yet. I believe these first shots show this was probably the leader. Some say these first shots either targeted the aviation fuel depot, or were test shots to check trajectory. I believe this first shooter was testing to see if shots would be fired back, and to perch in the Delgado elevator shaft, where he could provide cover for the next group of assailants to follow his lead. Shots continue from the Delgado elevator shaft later in the video as he keeps that position. 

Then, at the 3:05 minute mark, you see more flashes in that same area, again moving from the left to right, starting to the right of Mandalay, and proceeding towards the Delgado elevator shaft. Emboldened by having cover fire from Delgado, with no one returning any fire, the shooter opens up in full, and you see many more flashes this time. They are longer bursts. And the audio matches. The crowd reacts and flees. This was the main barrage. Survivor posts mentioned someone let off firecrackers by the stage as a distraction at this point.

At the roughly 6:52 mark the cam gets shaky. But this is the key moment actually. To a large extent, it was the grand finale. If you maintain your focus on that area in between the buildings, you see that this was the grand finale. Many flashes from multiple positions fire off nearly simultaneously, to where it could not be just one person possibly. Flashes also appear on top of the Luxor Tower at one point in the video (7:05). That goes along with the well known taxi cab driver’s video, where that sniper was pointed out.

The only flashes from Mandalay are a few rounds from the roof at one point. But the center point of this attack was between Mandalay and the Delgado, and that dark area in between. The Excalibur hotel is back there actually. And if my memory serves from when I used to frequent Vegas, there is a tunnel connecting the hotels, and possibly a tram. There are also parking structures in the area.

There is also a video on YouTube showing a security guard blasting concert goers from the concert floor, as well as testimony from a victim. Because there were so many perps simultaneously at this event, the audio doesn’t always match. The main thing the audio shows you is that many different guns were going off at the same time, not just one attacker’s at a time.

Some have responded that they believe these flashes between Mandalay and Delgado are actually just planes or helicopters, not shooters. The problem with that is that whatever it is, it never appears to left of Mandalay, or right of Delgado, only in between. So unless they are flying from one wormhole into another like on Star Trek this is not possible. Note that the flashes in that dark area between Mandalay and Delgado never retrace from the right to the left. That is why I say there were three attackers at least. Because each major volley moves left to right but never retraces. Again, I speak of the two second mark, 3:05 mark, and 6:52 marks (respectively).

The other problem with that is the helicopters and airplanes are required by law to have three lights each, which these do not. And planes blink at an even rate. And helicopters do not light up at fast multiple flashes like a machine gun. Even if it was a helicopter, which its not, why is the police helicopter on scene at the two second mark before any shooting. And if it were a helicopter, it is not good that the flashes came from it, since helicopters can carry the type of machine guns that could waste a crowd with this proficiency, like they did in Vietnam. A mounted machine gun like that with the bullets on a belt like thing from a helicopter would shred the crowd like this. There is also the outside possibility of a drone attack, which 4Chan boards have discussed. Recent YouTube videos have demoed civilian made drones like this. The government has the drones for sure.

I saw a plane and a helicopter in the background at other points in the videos which were unrelated to the muzzle flashes, and proceeded along natural flight paths. It is possible to the difference between a plane/helicopter and gun flash. Believe it or not, the difference is obvious to the human eye. 

I could go into more conspiracies regarding this attack, many of which I have heavily researched. The Paddock guy having made $5 million gambling without any IRS scrutiny is totally a joke. The attack was a copycat of the ISIS Paris concert shooting, followed by the Belgium bombing. The killer in Las Vegas even had the bomb ready in his car too, and initially planned to escape, further mirroring Paris. The media is in denial about this cloned ISIS attack. All those Paddock cruises to the Middle East look very suspicious now.

Really, I am going to stick with what you can see in this video with your own eyes, if you set aside innuendos and misdirection, deflection and distraction from authority figures. This was not staged with crisis actors; I personally know a radiologist who treated a victim from this with a nasty shrapnel wound. The hospitals in Vegas having been so full, the lady actually flew to her home state with the shrapnel embedded in her. Those bullets fragment on impact to shred human tissue. I care about this event because I used to patronize Vegas and Reno a lot. I was invited to Vegas with a free ticket and room for a party that weekend, but declined since the major cities have all been in turmoil. My girlfriend and her sister were in Vegas that night. This stuff is real, and it hits close to home.  

Any way you cut it, this attack actually resembles the team of armed terrorists from the first Die Hard film. Shooting down, moving in teams, and providing cover for each other makes sense. It does not resemble the lone gunman theory that the government wants you to believe. 

How The Left Is Creating A New Generation Of Terrorists

Monday, October 2nd, 2017

McKenna set down her drink, a mix of seltzer, wine and vodka. “So what do you guys think about this new tax plan?”

“Ugh, it’s horrible,” said Maya. “Trump wants to stop state tax deductions so the states cut their social programs. Just another attempt to screw over minorities, women and the poor.”

“You know she’s right,” Ronnie lisped. “He’s just trying to hurt everyone who didn’t vote for him.”

The darkest member of the group, having a Nigerian father and Korean-Norwegian mother, McKayla spoke up last. “That man is a racist, and he was elected by racists,” she said. “Either we get rid of him, or he’s going to turn this country into Nazi Germany with the Klan enslaving all of us.”

Cucky McCuckerson listened in the background. At age 64, he had long given up on the possibility of real existential pleasure in life. He knew what life was: go to his job, at which he would never advance or be fired, then pay his bitch of an ex-wife alimony, call his ungrateful kids who were more interested in Tinder and Grindr than him, then go by Whole Foods for a few well-deserved treats, namely pre-prepared ethnic food and three bottles of mid-grade wine. This was his life, and it would never change. He had lost money on the sale of his previous house, paid most of the rest to the ex-wife and child support, and now was going to work until he died, or would have to retire early on $2500 a month and go do… what? No one at his job would care if he disappeared, and his social group would evaporate as soon as he did not at least have the cash to stand a few rounds at the bar. Already he felt weak inside, and perceived that everyone else in the group was the focus of attention while he sat in the background, nursing a drink and thinking about how he was just counting days until the end.

He would show them. A few machine guns, he could buy those in the barrio for half-price. Body armor and hall cameras? He saw a video on YouTube. He had no real interest in living, but he wanted to go out a hero.


One of the more exhaustive studies on terrorism shows us that people become terrorists for the same reason that they start doing drugs or buy unnecessary consumer goods: social status, or peer pressure, otherwise known as socialization pressure.

The pathway towards the participation in a suicide mission can be analyzed as the result of an accumulation of socialization processes that can be accounted for by classic social psychological mechanisms. This is congruent with the empirical evidence about how the process of joining a terrorist group usually is heavily influenced by the prevailing political and social environment shared by friends and relatives. Several studies conclude that becoming a terrorist is basically an issue of socialization (Fields, 1979; Silke, 2006). Radicalization and engagement in violent activities are facilitated by contacts and links with people who already have embraced an extremist ideology. Social interaction is the vehicle through which individuals receive the “reasons” that motivate and “justify” their desire to give up their lives to carry out a terrorist attack.

Like suicide bomber, a spree shooter like Stephen Paddock or James T. Hodgkinson knows that he is headed on a final one-way trip: if he is not killed during the event, he will most likely be executed for his crimes. Spree shooters at schools and nightclubs do not intend to survive; they want to kill and then die.

There is some evidence that suicide is inextricably linked to the desire to kill groups of others:

Why are some mass shooters more likely to kill themselves? If we go beyond the armchair psychology and diagnostic labels in the coverage of this horrific tragedy, the data from past rampage shootings (see also this paper and this) may partially reveal some motivations.

It’s about self-loathing and perceived injustice. And location matters.

Psychologists have long theorized that there’s a connection between rage against others and rage against the self.

When you combine the spree killer mentality with the justification afforded by ideology, you have something like the suicide bomber: someone who wants to die, and wants to take revenge on the world in the process, but is also socialized to the degree that he wants to commit his murder-suicide in such a way that his social group will applaud and for once, even posthumously, he will be “famous” in his group and the center of attention. He will no longer be a loser.

Add to that the effects of depression — such as that brought on by a dead-end career, alcoholism, failed marriages and other parts of the usual modern toxic stew of personal tragedy — and you have weaponized misery:

People with mental illnesses are influenced by their environments, Paul said, and can be vulnerable to extremist rhetoric.

“Certainly people who fit the pattern of having relatively low levels of social skills, often times being more withdrawn, are more likely to respond to extremist language on radio, television and that sort of thing,” Paul said. “If you look at the history of cult development, that’s very often where they get their recruits.”

The Left is brewing up the next generation of spree killers through two methods: violently binary rhetoric, and social events where people talk about politics more than anything else.

Leftist rhetoric tends to be binary because Leftism is not directly related to reality, but to how reality might be improved. Thus Leftism is an option, and people either say yes or do not, and everyone who says yes is an ally and by the converse, everyone who refuses to join the cult is an enemy.

We can blame the media, and surely they are one vehicle for this thinking, but they are not the cause of it. The cause is ideology itself, which tends to impose cult-like thinking.

Some aspects of the mind control methods of cults are inherent to Leftism when it occurs in a social setting (excerpted partially):

  • Isolation of the person and manipulation of his or her environment.
  • Control of information going in and out of the group environment.
  • Separation and/or alienation from family and friends.
  • Induced dissociation and other altered states by putting person in mild form of trance (through speaking in tongues, chanting, repeating affirmations, extended periods of meditation or prayer, lengthy denunciation sessions, long hours of lectures or study, public trials or group humiliation, about seat criticisms focusing on one individual, sexual abuse, torture, etc.)
  • Degradation of the person’s sense of self, through confession, self-reporting, rebuking, criticism and self-criticism, humiliation, and so on, in individual or group sessions.
  • Peer and leadership pressure, especially using powerful guilt mechanisms.
  • Induced anxiety, fear, and confusion, with joy and certainty being offered through surrender to the group; instilling the belief that the person’s survival physical, emotional, spiritual depends on remaining with the group; also induced crises, so that the person must submit to symbolic (or real) acts of submission to the group via betrayal and renunciation of self, family, and previously held values.
  • Extensive indoctrination sessions (through Bible lessons, political training, sales training, self-awareness lessons, lectures by leaders).
  • Alternation of harshness and leniency in a context of necessary discipline.

The Leftist cult begins by isolating the person through creation of a social group. This social group then dominates the life of the person involved, and by its nature, occupies time when the person could socialize with others, while simultaneously demonizing all who do not belong to the group.

In this group, the induced disassociation through mind-numbing repetition of talking points, propaganda, studies, and cultural artifacts — including rock music, popular books, movies and rage-inducing articles — also amounts to information control, since the cult is hostile to sources which do not share its ideological bent, and so members cannot admit being exposed to those. Leftists will shun anyone who even pays attention to moderate-Right sources like Fox News.

Degradation of the person’s sense of self and peer pressure occur through both shaming to those who do not conform, and an inherent sense of guilt for being privileged enough to be an armchair Leftist. The rich rage against the rich, the white rage against the white, and the intellectuals rage against intellectuals; this achieves inculcated guilt which is only alleviated by “doing the right thing,” according to the cult at least.

Leftist writings and movies tend to induce anxiety through their apocalyptic outlook. Climate change, which causes a sense of futility and despair, has been especially useful.

Alternation of harshness and leniency is administered through social methods. Basic discipline is non-existent, but if someone crosses a line, they are punished with scorn, disparagement, impugning of their moral character, and social exclusion. For this reason, people in a Leftist social setting are always attention to what is de rigeuer and whatever the most recent no-no is, because whoever crosses that line will be destroyed, but at the same time, members are continually encouraged to cross lines in order to draw more attention to themselves and advance the narrative.

Since the social nature of the activity snowballs to the point where the members have no other social outlet, they quickly become dependent on the group for their self-esteem and guidance, which means they will have nothing if they offend the group. Total control has been imposed.


Cucky relaxed in his hotel room. Earlier he had purchased a bottle of Hillrock Solera, which he considered the best bourbon available on the market. For the past five years, he had denied himself any such extravagances, but now he sipped his second glass.

On the bed before him were ten rifles and thirty-five loaded magazines. He had purchased these, one a month, over the past year from a friend of the janitor at his job. At $500 apiece, they were draining his account, but soon he would not have to worry about that. Or anything. He thought of death like going into outer space: farther and farther from anything he knew, until he was in the total cold and blackness, with nothing to perceive, then getting sucked into a black hole and compressed into nothingness, even unaware of his thoughts as the bioelectric impulses were torn apart by the intense gravity. Painless forevermore. He liked that.

He had bought ammunition a box or two at a time, always on the way home from visiting his children in a nearby city where they lived with his ex-wife, her boyfriend, and now a girlfriend, and the girlfriend’s boyfriend. He thought they were all having sex, but his kids were old enough not to care, and besides, they were having plenty of sex themselves, when they were not strung out on Ritalin, Valium and Xanax. He was irrelevant to them: old, gross, sexless, weak, broke and tired.

But now he felt wonderful. The warmth stretched through his body as the whisky and anger spread. Tonight, he was top dog. He picked up the first weapon, took a deep breath, and opened fire through the closed window. He knew little about guns, but imagined himself aiming a garden hose strapped to a stick, and soon saw flashes as his bullets struck the metal gates around the crowd. He corrected, but then was out of bullets. The illegal fully automatic modification to these guns, AR-47s and AK-15s or something like that, made them shoot at the full 800 bullets per minute, so the little magazines ran out quickly. These, too, were bought from Juano at a reasonable twenty-five per.

He swigged more bourbon, letting it burn down his throat and fill him with a feeling like fire. Up came the next gun, and he began hosing down the idiots across the street again, delighting in watching them fall as they crushed each other in their panic. He moved the gun in little circles as he fired, and this time when he heard the ching! of an empty magazine, he gleefully seized up another and repeated. When all ten were fired, he went back to the first and inserted a new magazine, then began the process again, firing a thousand dollars of ammo in a stream of hot leaden hatred.

Down to his last magazine, he checked the camera feeds displayed on his laptop. Ah, yes, the pigs — cops were usually Republicans, he thought — were coming up the hall, clearing rooms. He was mostly out of bullets anyway, and the sweet sound of screams came to him from across the road. He knew he could not live on after this, live through a trial at least, and so it was time to exit stage right. He thought of the party that weekend that his social group would have, and how they would talk about him every minute, unable to take his deeds out of their thoughts. Good.

The first flash-bang went off in the hall. He had seen a YouTube video on those, too. Next step would be smoke grenades and then door breaching, followed by flash bangs again and a hail of bullets. Time for his grand exit. Time to liquefy this brain. He took one last sip of the bourbon, relishing how fine it was, like this his moment of triumph. Then, he put the tip of the gun in his mouth and rested his thumb on the trigger. I have all of the power now, he thought. I am God. I have made my mark. He tightened his grip and began the slow squeeze.

Thy will be done.

Race-Mixing White Guy Commits Suicide By Cop After Mass Killing

Monday, October 2nd, 2017

The worst mass shooting in the modern era has been confirmed in Las Vegas, NV, this morning with over fifty dead and two hundred injured. The suspect, a white male who was possibly aided by an Asian or Hispanic “companion,” Marilou Danley, as he unloaded multiple magazines from a fully automatic rifle from the 32nd floor of the Mandalay Bay Hotel into the crowd gathered across the street to watch live country music at the Route 91 Harvest Festival.

Other than that, we know little; police have denied any connection with terrorism, but the smell of this one is more of desperation. A man with known marital problems — he had recently moved and changed domestic arrangements, including a possible relationship with the non-white woman alternately described as his “roommate” or “companion” — hits nearly retirement age, realizes he will become irrelevant, and decides to go out with a bang. The targeting of a country music festival suggests he is on the Left, but this will be explained not as political terrorism, but as suicide by cop.

They are correct in that it sounds like an event designed to be an elaborate suicide, but they are concealing the fact that his choice of targets was motivated by ideology. Leftists tend to get together, discuss how the world is ending because Donald Trump was elected, and then go home to their Hispanic and Asian girlfriends while shaking with the smug righteous passive-aggression that is the hallmark of Leftism. We know it plays out this way because we have seen this before. Here is CNN deflecting on the political nature of the choice of target in the Steve Scalise shooting:

That pivot from police incident to politics happened rapidly around 11:15 a.m., when CNN confirmed that the alleged shooter was James T. Hodgkinson of Illinois. A quick scan of his social media presence — Facebook and Twitter — suggested that he was strongly opposed to Trump and was a supporter of the 2016 presidential candidacy of Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders, an independent who ran as a Democrat.

Hodgkinson also apparently volunteered for Sanders campaign in Iowa during the 2016 campaign.

…The Belleville News-Democrat, the local paper in the community where Hodgkinson reportedly lived, showed a photo of him holding a “Tax the Rich” sign in a protest outside a local post office. The newspaper described Hodgkinson this way:

The shooter was James T. Hodgkinson of Belleville, who belonged to a number of anti-Republican groups, including one called ‘Terminate the Republican Party.’

And then they deliver the punchline:

None of that stopped some conservatives from concluding that Hodgkinson was aiming to injure Republicans specifically, and that he was driven by a liberal culture that glorifies violence against GOPers.

Here we have leaped from reality-land to fantasy-land.

People are motivated by their politics. Those influence the choice of how they decide to self-destruct. In the case of Hodgkinson and Paddock, both men were at the end of their static careers and probably had no retirement in sight, either because their money got frittered away in divorces or was lost in the housing boom-bust cycle that is the new lottery for the middle class in America. With nothing to live for and little to lose, they decided to commit suicide in a way that their social group would approve of.

In this way, they are no different than suicide bombers in the Middle East or even the Viet Cong who offered themselves as sacrifices during that guerrilla war. They have decided to die, but they get one last act, and so they are spending their lives in a way that guarantees maximal notice, but only in their own social group. For this reason, they attack conservatives.

The shooter at the previous record holder for “worst mass shooting” at the Pulse gay nightclub in Orlando, FL, were both active on social media during the event, checking to see how he was being regarded on mass media. In that case, he was shooting for Islam, but in both cases, the same thing is true: the shooters were anticipating approval by those with whom they shared values.

This leads us to the bigger point that media would not have us realize which is that if you cluster people together who are from different groups, whether those are ethnic or religious or even political as we saw in Las Vegas last night, then when there are the inevitable violent feelings, they will be channeled at the other group. Suicide bombers and guerrilla commandos are on roughly the same type of mission of no return as Stephen Paddock was when he unloaded magazine after magazine on full auto into a crowd held captive by its own bulk.

In the meantime, the news rings with other successful examples of diversity policy. A Somali terrorist attack in Canada, and another in Marseille — again, being filed as a “psychological” problem rather than a terrorist attack — just days after a retaliatory shooting at a Tennessee church by another Somalian.

Seeing any of these events by itself, one might say “how unfortunate” and move on to a second piece of toast, but when taken together, these events show us that the West — such as it is, reconstituted from adulterated remnants of what was left over after the egalitarians got a grip on it — is coming apart due to its internal divisions. There is nothing keeping us together except an ideology of “agree to disagree” which seemed to keep the chaos at bay, and an economic system which pays well in exchange for most of your time spent on meaningless make-work activities.

On the whole, this is a positive thing. People have told me my whole life that I was the bad guy for noticing that our society is based on an illogical design with many dysfunctional parts. They knew that they would probably get away with it because it takes a long time for evil, stupid, erroneous and delusional acts to reveal themselves. But I was right all along, and if you search your gut, so were you. There is no future in our equal, diverse and tolerant society.

Celebrating the Anniversary of Nothing

Monday, September 11th, 2017

Sixteen years ago, nineteen guerrillas flew planes into two large buildings, effectively crashing the American economy, in the most successful terrorist attack the world has ever seen. We are told to never forget, to unite as a people, to come together despite our racial and ethnic differences, because we are united in our admiration of… Amerika!

If we filter out the television and social media noise, push aside the flag-waving and “muh freedom” nonsense, we can see this event was simple: a democracy finally pushed too hard to spread its cognitive virus to other people, and created for itself a real enemy that it could not subdue with its technology.

Al-Qaeda were competent. Both Osama bin Laden and Ayman Al-Zawahiri are intelligent men, and they planned an attack which would devastate the bungling Americans who as usual in peaceful, had become sloppy and slothful with their awareness of threats. Too many careerists, on the government dime for twenty-five years to then retire and “double dip,” getting two pensions by going to another service, and too few actual thinkers blighted American security services.

The democratic bully finally got a new enemy, and the attacks revealed just how disconnected America had become. Foreigners could infiltrate, get flight experience and openly plan a terrible attack without the “free society” catching a clue. Democracy’s response was to double down on flag-waving and “we are all one” type propaganda.

In fact, the Americans went out of their way to demonstrate that this was a war on terrorism, not Islam, although it was more properly a war on Islamic terrorists, who are generally the ones who have been blowing stuff up over the past fifty years. Remember Leon Klinghoffer? He was an elderly American Jew in a wheelchair that Hezbollah executed. Very few remember him now, or the other victims.

After a brief surge of “God Bless America,” the real America… what has morphed into Amerika… revealed itself: a nation of 400 million people with no relationship to each other outside of dependency on a System which, comprised of equal parts libertarian capitalism and soft totalitarian socialism, has atrophied culture and the strong founding group which guided this country for centuries.

This system reflected an ideology dying without a host, having strangled its Anglo and then mystery meat “white” hosts, and so the quest in the years after 9/11 were to extend the “magic dirt” or “proposition nation” theory by inviting in even more third world people, and using propaganda and bribes to subdue them into “Americans” who follow our Constitution, consumer lifestyle and television-watching habits.

During the 1990s, the remaining people capable of stringing together a coherent thought dropped out entirely. Insanity won with the Clintons, and then George W. Bush continued it, trying to put a conservative spin on a fundamentally Leftist brew of WWII-era democracy propaganda, FDR-style socialist benefits statism, and a replacement religion of individualism and “progressive” virtue symbolism.

The 2000s were a reprise of the 1960s through the filter of the 1980s: we were striving for Civil Rights for all, using democracy, but this time we were waging a global war on terror at the same time we were enforcing globalism, or the standardization of the world into a Fukuyaman “end of history” society based in liberal democracy, Leftist beliefs and usury-based economics.

9/11 may have been pivotal because of those who were not represented in the celebration of patriotism it inspired. These were people who saw that the hybrid of libertarian socialism was increasingly resembling the Soviet state, where an angry mob crushed those who failed to follow its egalitarian mania. People dropped out to avoid the inevitable crash.

As we commemorate this non-anniversary, a populist movement has risen based on realism, not ideology. Following Samuel Huntington and his “clash of civilizations,” this movement recognizes that it is inherent and organic factors which make a society, not ideology. They are turning their backs on ideology entirely, and becoming concerned with what works and what works best as measured by results and not popularity. This is the realism of the new millennium.

We realize that the Soviet-like global Leftist empire is a path to death. We see that our nations are fundamentally changed, and anything that was beautiful, good, wholesome, honest, brave, proud, decent, intelligent, sane, healthy, excellent and reverent was being replaced with a mob of angry blue-haired obesity victims and insatiable minorities.

We are starting to comprehend that modernity itself — the era based on individualism, expressed in equality and enforced by the mob — is entirely evil. It is an empire of death (EOD) which wants to conquer our souls, replacing hope and optimism with obedience. And we did it to ourselves by chasing the impossible dream of diversity.

Al-Qaeda, on the other hand, was ahead of us. They saw that a sexually promiscuous, mixed-race, Leftist republic would weaken itself to the point of collapse, and hoped to push us over the line. Since GWB leaned left but also launched the war to outlast all wars, they may have gotten their wish.

Allahu ackbar, and to all a good night.

Subsequent Generations of Immigrants Turn To Terrorism, Proving Diversity and Assimilation Wrong

Saturday, August 26th, 2017

People invent lore to justify what they believe is convenient. This means that all of our reasoning as a society is backward, because it is people using the reasons they claim that they did things, in order to argue for what they want next.

In the post-Irish mythos of America, different groups from all over the world come here to a “melting pot” where they lose their original identity and become generic Americans because we have brought them the Bible, taught them capitalism, and indoctrinated them in the ideology of human universalism, or equality.

Europe has followed the American lead, but as seems to be happening here, things are not turning out well for the diversity narrative as cultural confusion leads second-generation immigrants to become terrorists because of the disorientation wracked by diversity:

“An estimated 60 percent of those who espouse violent jihadism in Europe are second-generation Muslims who have lost their connection with their country of origin and have failed to integrate into Western societies,” Roy says.

They are subject to a “process of deculturation” that leaves them ignorant of and detached from both the European society and the one of their origins. The result, Roy argues, is a dangerous “identity vacuum” in which “violent extremism thrives.”

Giving up a native culture means to go from someone with a place in the world to someone who must adopt a foreign nation and who must signify status through income only, having given up the values system of their homelands and having replaced it with what is effectively an ideology of anarchy.

This cultural erasure is responsible for the radicalization of second generations of immigrants, who find that they cannot become members of the founding group of the nation because that group was biologically different from their own, and at the same time, they have been made into merely economic units, which deprives them of any context, leading to the atomized lifestyle which creates both libertinism and radicalism.

In other words, even if we pretend that people can exist without a culture, they need one, and our attempts at “assimilation” and “integration” simply deprive them of their inherent nation and fail to replace it with something more compelling:

To call America a melting pot is hostile to marginalized groups because, according to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, multiculturalists “reject the ideal of the ‘melting pot’ in which members of minority groups are expected to assimilate into the dominant culture in favor of an ideal in which members of minority groups can maintain their distinctive collective identities and practices.” Multiculturalism pervades liberal thinking in our time. As a result, assimilation is “a concept many on the left currently hate,” Beinart writes.

To assimilate is to make oneself, or be made by others, similar to those others, a process that necessarily means becoming dissimilar from the people the immigrant left behind in his native land. The melting-pot metaphor implies that the assimilated will modify the culture they are assimilated to, rendering it as American as pizza pie. But that isn’t good enough. For the zealous multiculturalist, assimilation demands “that the marginalized conform to the identities of their oppressors,” to quote the Stanford Encyclopedia again, which “looks suspiciously like the erasure of socially subordinate identities rather than their genuine incorporation into the polity.”

Note that applying the logic of multiculturalism to the case of immigration requires positing that immigrants are dominated, oppressed, and subordinated.

First generation immigrants generally do not care about cultural loss because they do not perceive they have lost it; born abroad, they still have that identity and the memory of living among their people, thus easily gravitate toward immigrant groups and family in the new nation. Their children however, having grown up as attendees of a market rather than participants in a cultural identity.

Even more important, they lose out on the social trust that exists in non-diverse societies, and so have no sense of unity with others in their host nation:

Government, Roger Scruton argues, “requires a ‘we,’ a prepolitical loyalty that causes neighbors…to treat each other as fellow citizens.” Without the “legacy of social trust” derived from this sense of belonging to a highly specific subset of mankind, political stability is impossible.

No one was thinking of that when immigration programs were designed because those programs were created to fund the entitlements payments which had to go to the huge generation of people born from 1944-1964, a.k.a. the “Baby Boomers” or “Me Generation.” In Europe, the immigrants were intended as a tax base to pay for Boomer retirement:

But, Krieger added, one of the big caveats here is the effect that immigrants have on pension or retirement systems, which constitute a huge chunk of the public budget in many countries. Pension systems are typically pay-as-you-go programs, which means everyone currently working gets taxed and that money immediately goes to current retirees. Immigrants tend to have a tremendously positive impact on the pension system, he said. In fact, their arrival triggers what “pension economists usually call an ‘introductory gift.’ If you find a job, you start paying contributions and all these contributions—because it’s a pay-as-you-go system—go directly to the retirees.” That can swiftly shore up government finances in countries with an aging population, which describes most of Europe. Plus, “There’s been research showing that even if the people are net beneficiaries of the pension system [i.e. if, by the time these immigrants grow old, the state has committed to larger pension payouts], even then it would have a positive effect on pay-as-you-go simply because they will have children who become contributors, and immigrants tend to have more children than natives.” In Germany, said Krieger, that kind of effect on the pension system “is a factor of three or four compared to all the other benefits.”

In America, a similar rationale was advanced in that immigrant payments into social security were anticipated to fund retirement programs so that existing citizens could exit the workforce and still receive benefits:

Stephen Goss, chief actuary for the Social Security Administration, told the Daily Beast, “Even as it stands under current policy, unauthorized immigrants contribute positively to the financing of social security not only in terms of their own contributions, but in the succeeding generations when they have children on our soil that are citizens from day one.”

…“The biggest problem we have with social security is there are fewer Americans to pay into the system to support people who are currently retired or about to retire,” says Ornstein, “so the more people working and paying into the system is better for everybody.”

Henry Aaron, an expert on social security at the Brookings Institution, says that looking ahead 75 years into the future, the legalization of some five million immigrants by executive order would be “like a boost in population—and a higher population is typically good for the (social security) trust fund. It’s equal to an increase in net migration, and when people enter the system, and that group is young and working, that’s positive.”

When all you look at is economics, this makes sense. If you look at multiple silos of social benefits and detriments, it becomes clear that what is happening with immigration is merely cost-shifting, namely putting money into retirement programs while taking it out of other areas of the economy, including the benefits which most immigrants rely on.

At that point, it is hardly surprising that the children of immigrants — realizing that they are essentially part of a large retirement insurance scam created by democratic governments — become indifferent to life, and thus radicalize. Immigration benefits no one, and assimilation destroys identity, further increasing the misery necessary for successful suicidal terrorist recruitment.

Activism In The Post-Atomic Age

Saturday, June 24th, 2017

Arnold Raymond nursed his grudges. Perhaps he hoped they’d one day mature into basilisks. He was just glad he wasn’t like those other people who believed hateful things. He wanted a big government, strong enough to fend for the weak and oppressed. He wanted the freeloaders who owned businesses and worked at corporations to pay. If other people would stop hating and share, social justice would enlighten us all.

Perhaps he would forever be a profit without honor in his home country. Perhaps he would have to go elsewhere to truly achieve his dreams like Lenin did. He would never quit. Like that old song, Carry On Wayward Son.

Raymond hated the obese soyform he worked for. He aggressively burped and farted across the retail floor as he reported for his shift fifteen minutes late. He resented being awoke, enlightened and employed by David Soblitzki at the local Home Despot. He was more than handtools and paint brushes. Commerce, he felt, tainted him. With every sale he made, he stole surplus value. With every hour he worked at $12.45, he got deprived of money he deserved. Senator Elizabeth Warren had documented that the American minimum wage should be about $35.00. He wanted what was his, but rich white people always stole it from him. Everytime the cash register rang.

He thought about his weak-assed member of Congress. Progressive people like Arnold had elected him to get things done. To bring real change. To make the 1% pay. This guy reminded him of what Duncan Black used to warn about. Atrios would have told this creature of Hillary to stop wanking. Wanking being a slang shorthand for talking like a woke Progressive while quietly slow-walking the true People’s Agenda in order to get donations or keep political popularity. He wanted real progressivism. He wanted a man who would address the politics of who and whom. He wanted that weight of the poor to come down hard on the 1% in their fancy suburbs.

As work continued its pointless grind, he hated the people he interacted with. He looked down on their petty, little needs. He saw their kids and imagined what ugly adults they would grow into. He imagined them smugly enjoying their meals and playing video games. And these people all voted to protect their unearned status quo. They deluded themsleves that they built something. They worshipped a sky faerie as a way to validate their nauseating dishonesty. Every last one of the bastards was guilty.

All the smart people told Arnold the typical American was a puddle of shit. These people were losers. They were racists. They exploited honest working people just like Rachel Maddow said and they needed to pay. Arnold Raymond and only Arnold Raymond could provide that sort of rough justice. The rest of them claimed to be dedicated to Social Justice, but as Duncan used to write over at Atrios, they were just wanking. Arnold Raymond was going to drive it had right up the man’s ass.

He thought about the stuff he had bought yesterday when he got off shift. There were chlorine pool cleaning crystals that he had bought right out of this store. Along with that, he had bought a 10lb bag of rocks; the sort you used to decorate a flower bed perhaps. Then he went to Papa Reilly’s, where they sold the homebrew stuff. He had bought a 5 gallon glass beaker, 2 containers of Star-San and a one-hole stopper. Then he went to Texaco and filled his car while simultaneously filling up a 1 gallon plastic gasoline bottle. Then it was off to the cute, little bourgois hobby store. He hadn’t entered The Orc Lair to indulge hobbies or waste empty hours playing Warhammer. He wanted two rocket engines and ten feet of fuse. These were the last two key things.

It maxed his exploitative POS credit card. VISA – it’s everywhere you want to spend yourself into slavery. But no. Not this time. Yesterday the bastard capitalists had sold him the bomb with which he would send them a real message. A man’s message. Arnold Raymond’s name would ring out. Trump that, you bourgois fvckers!

What he hated the most were the bratty, spoiled kids. How dare they enjoy their lives when other children had less. They went to their Montessori Schools of Entitled Brattiness and got personalized attention while learning how to read. Poor children and minorites were shunted off to obsolete and underfunded public kindergartens. The brats then went to private religious schools and got brainwashed with memory verses from their evil fvcking bible. The Peoples’ Children didn’t even have the latest textbooks.

Those evil, fvcking suburb brat children had a park called “Kids Domain.” More money given to them so that they could have a place to play. Did these evil, snotty, spoiled suburban White brats ever see where the Peoples’ kids had to go play in the projects. And their smarm-fvck daddies had voted for a candidate that was cancelling a bunch of The People’s Section 8 Housing Grants. There was this trachcan right next to all the cute little swings and balance beams. It was thin, metallic and would never withstand a blast. The bits of metal and shrapnel would all fly. Those overprivileged little bastards would die feeling The Peoples’ reality. Tonight, this very evening, the politics of who/whom would swing in the proper moral direction.

Five PM arrived. Arnold had about 2 1/2 hours to do what was right and necessary. He drove to his apartment and loaded his car. He decided to just be blatant. He would mix all the carp int he parking lot, carry it straight over to the can. His prep this morning had involved taping the fuses into the rocket engines and running the fuses through the 1-hole stopper. He had now cut a hole in the Star-San containers. The stuff was viscous. He wore gloves on his hands and squeezed hard to get it into the 5 gallon fermentation vat which he had covered with a black contractor’s trash bag, along with the cute, white rocks. He added the gasoline. He was careful to roll his car windows 1/2 way down. The fumes that would cook on the way to the park were not going to be healthy for human consumption.

He drove to the park and situated his vehicle. He had to get about 25 feet away. Arnold wasn’t a big, athletic man and the fermenter was getting heavy. He took out a funnel and started with the chlorine crystals. He would have to stopper the vat fast, The resulting nocious fumes were already triggering his eyes and nose. He got the stopper in and began to lug the fermenter inside the bag. He got it to the trashcan and then – Oh shit!

He had forgotten his lighter and couldn’t cook off the bomb. He went back to his car and grabbed what he needed from the glove department of his car. he had to get under control. Sudden movements would make Arnold look suspicious and then if the fascist cops showed up it would all be over. He forced himself to breathe slowly and palmed the barbeque lighter up his sleeve. He walked back over to the trashcan and – Dammit!

A little Hispanic girl in a replica Argentine National Soccer Team jersey was tossing a juice box into the trashcan. The girl noticed something and stopped as if curious. She reached down to pick up a stick and poked around with it into the can. “Abuela Sara!” She yelled. “Que es esto?”

A middle-aged to elderly Hispanic woman came forward. “No juega alla, Gatalitta.” She commanded.

The little girl moved away. But first, she stuck her hand into the garbage can. There was something in her hand and she gave it a pull. Out came a one-holed stopper with a length of fuse. The girl made it about two steps and then collapsed. “!Ayudame!, Ayiii…” She said between coughs.

“Madre de Dios!” The older woman yelled. She then switched to English and yelled at a nearby man. “Alex, its Gata! She’s hurt.” He pulled out a cell and dialed 9-1-1.

Arnold Raymond got back in the car. He drove out of the parking lot in a panic. He stopped a few feet away and tried to get himself back under control. It hadn’t worked. The chlorine had mixed with the acid in the Star-San. A little girl had opened the fermentation jar and now the gasses would leak out and there was no way he could get close enough to light the fuses and cook the bomb off. That didn’t even get into the problems he would have since the engines were inside the flask and the fuses were no longer attached to the stopper mechanism. He left and hoped nobody would go to work on finding him.

It was a year later and Raymond had learned exploitation in The Peoples’ Incarceration Facility. The other prisoners either ignored him or hated him and wanted him dead. The ones with children that knew why he was here were the latter group. The “Hacks” as the Corrections Officers were known had two sorts false consciousness. One type involved them enforcing Euro-Phallo-Centric dominance in such a way that proletariat was forced to remain docile. Ironically, these sorts of exploiters were why Arnold Raymond still converted O2 into Carbon Dioxide successfully. There was also another sort of hack. These people used the incarcerated proletariat to generate surplus value by selling narcotics and cigarettes. Anything could happen once these hacks made a deal.

One day it finally did. Raymond had discovered that lifting weights while in the stir served two purposes. It killed time and burned frustration and it demonstrated a certain physical vitality that would discourage people from taking one look at him and declaring him a seminal vessel to be filled at will. As he grunted and strained to bench a plat and a quarter, two large hands came down on the bar. “You look like you need a spot.” A large shaven-headed black man told him as he drove the bar inexorably down towards Raymond’s neck.

“Help me!” Arnold screamed. Two hacks turned and walked out of that section the gym.

It wasn’t a hard wrestling match for the burly and powerful convict to drive the bar into Raymond’s scrawny neck. “This is for the children.” The man said. He then leaned forward and propelled 185 Lbs of metal downward with a force far greater than the gravity that usually made the bench press a challenge.

The Left Will Not Negotiate Until It Has Been Kicked Hard In The Nuts

Wednesday, June 7th, 2017

ESCCCP Radio has a somewhat less bile-inducing than expected early morning show called Mike and Mike. This features a former NFL Defensive lineman named Mike Golic who actually drops an occasional subversive Red Pill. “You get what you tolerate,” he posited. You can claim it just represents one man’s view of defensive line play in the NFL, but try convincing anyone with at least the IQ of a rotifer that it doesn’t easily scale to most human interactions.

His other recent contribution to basic common sense from behind enemy lines was the concept of Golic’s Hammer. Golic’s Hammer works like this. If two people engage in some sort of competitive relationship (even one that involves a totally non-physical confrontation) the probabilities favor the one who would probably defeat the other in unarmed physical combat. Nature, in all her maternal sweetness, sodomizes the weak.

Cuckservatives will cuck down their noses, but don’t believe for a second that it doesn’t apply to political argumentation as well. Half of what drives the Left to stage fake beheadings of President Trump has nothing to do with the unratified Paris Climate Treaty. It’s a fight over who the public perceives to wield Golic’s Hammer. If Trump is the Alpha; who wants to monkey around with the suboptimal primates?

So how does one make the yobs in the mob believe that he is the biggest of hes? You decide to no longer tolerate something and successfully make it stop. That, not the tragic thought of missing out on more quality individuals like Lee Malvo’s partner in crime; inspired the Left to hit the mattresses over the Trump Travel Bans. The public sees Trump ordering immigration to stop and the immigration stops. Trump wielding power makes people believe Trump wields power. It reminds the public of who doesn’t.

The Paris Treaty? This is the Trump Travel Ban raised to the nth power. Trump is telling the civilized world to go pick its own nose instead of America’s. If they can’t stop him, who can? Somebody has to, the left must resist! And if they push you around and force you to get rid of Trump? Your @$$es are right back on the chain. The Deep State will bury you.

Crap like the video below occurs in accordance with another little hate truth. One that I claim as my own.

The Hate Truth I dub as JPW’s Law of Terrorism works as follows. The people who engage in terrorism are not driven to it by poverty, ignorance, desperation or even ideology. They are rational, intelligent, political, economic, psychological and strategic decision makers. The leadership of ISIS or Al Qaeda sends out the bombers because terrorism works like hell. It costs hundreds of millions and requires decades to put up a World Trade Center Complex. It takes a crappy airline, a few hundred thousand dollars, nine months and nineteen sub-literate morons to shut the whole thing down. You tell me terrorism isn’t brilliant.

Only one thing makes terrorism not work: kicking the terrorists in the jimmies. Hard. With the Steel-toe Boots of I Don’t Give a Wank. Amazingly, even the previously cucked are getting the idea. Kurt Schlichter over at seems to have awakened from a long epistemological sleep.

We don’t like the new rules – I’d sure prefer a society where no one was getting attacked, having walked through the ruins of a country that took that path – but we normals didn’t choose the new rules. The left did. It gave us Ferguson, Middlebury College, Berkeley, and “Punch a Nazi” – which, conveniently for the left, translates as “punch normals.” And many of us have had personal experiences with this New Hate – jobs lost, hassles, and worse. Some scumbags at an anti-Trump rally attacked my friend and horribly injured his dog. His freaking dog. So when we start to adopt their rules, they’re shocked? Have they ever met human beings before? It’s not a surprise. It’s inevitable.

The Left will not accept this either. You !CANNOT! show videos of the turd-checking howler monkeys hurling the excrement. Their !DEMANDS! follow below.

“We demand that the video created for Day of Absence and Day of Presence that was stolen by white supremacists and edited to expose and ridicule the students and staff be taken down by the administration by this Friday.” The students then outline just how they expect the university to proceed to find the guilty culprits. Claiming to have been in touch with “the Attorney General’s office,” the students suggest that the university “commit to launching an extensive forensic investigation” to discover just who “stole” the video, and, if a suspect is found, to ask that criminal charges be brought against the suspect “in consultation with the Attorney General.” The video contains many memorable moments of the students’ interacting with their school administrators. They shout “fuck you, and fuck the police” repeatedly while maintaining that “whiteness is the most violent fuckin’ system to ever breathe!”

So you finally get to the point where you give in or give them hell. Or, you can LARP about how #NeverTrump could have been a contender. And then, just because I don’t have enough to spitefully laugh at this morning, they cry over the Democrats not reaching out to them. Folks, this is Stockholm Syndrome that would get you killed in the typical S&M Dungeon below.

If their goal was to dismantle Trump, they would encourage the left to open space for anti-Trump GOP to thrive within the Democrat party. But there is no room in the Democrat tent. Indeed, the left that clearly needs a bigger tent has instead occupied themselves with kicking other leftists out of the existing tent. They want everyone in the GOP to commit career suicide and, the moment we do, people like Heer will sneer at us, mock us, laugh at our loss of career, loss of community, loss of opportunity. Having followed their advice, they will not offer a place for us to belong, but use us as an ongoing punching bag and continue to write manifestos about how to use the court system to destroy us. They want the GOP tent to be smaller but refuse to make the Democrat tent any larger. It is a positively schizophrenic political attitude, but it’s one most Democrats have bought in to.

Terrorism works like hell in Amerika because the political terrorists of the left have always been smart enough to forcibly defecate upon the Cuckservative. The Cuckservative was born and bred to be The Washington Generals gawkish, Whitebread, fumble-fingered starting point guard against their multi-culti team of Harlem Globetrotters. It takes no courage to be Chris Matthews and speak “truth” to the simpering male wet-nurses of the Cuckservative Movement.

It gets more challenging when Greg Gianforte spikes your geeky MSCCCP rear-end off the pavement. It’s harder still when an All-American Anders Braevik mutters his insane curses and starts filling up the magazines in a dingy basement over in some sold-out, dying coal town. That could be JPW’s Second Law of Terrorism. It’s only properly prevented by an equal and opposite reaction. The fighters become lovers and tell you they were “just kidding” when you can credibly stand there and threaten them with Golic’s Hammer.

Breitbart Fires Writer Katie McHugh For Stating Truth About Diversity, But She Does Not Back Down

Tuesday, June 6th, 2017

Apparently it is offensive to state the truth: when attacked by Muslims who live in your country, it is safe to conclude that had those Muslims not been living in your country, the attack would not have happened.

Leftists, including most conservatives, do not want to acknowledge the obvious, which is that it is much easier to defend against foreign invasions than guerrilla terrorism arising on your own streets. The proliferation of spy programs, laws, undercover agents and paid informants tells us that as the West balkanizes, we are having trouble keeping our own diverse citizens from attacking each other.

Breitbart news editor Katie McHugh dared to allude to this uncomfortable truth in a tweet, and Breitbart editors — reversing their previous conservative position in defense of the ability to speak, think and write without fear of political retaliation — promptly fired her. Not to be bowed, McHugh stickied the tweet and appealed for aid from her readers.

As with all political purges, this one exists to hide the fact that a state policy which is necessary for the ideology of that state, but not the welfare of its people, is failing. Diversity never works and always produces conflict, as conservative writers such as Ann Coulter have noticed.

It is not racially discriminatory to say that any diversity does not work, because to say this does not target a specific group as the reason for the failure of diversity, as angry bigots tend to do; instead it points out that diversity itself is the source of the failure of diversity. Nor is it cruel or unreasonable, because unrealistic policies cause mass misery and governments kill to hide this fact, as we saw in the last century.

In the West, we need a vast mass maturation so that we can discuss this and other controversial topics. The controversy does not mean that these topics are somehow in contention, only that up to half of our population is in resistance to accepting the possibility that they are wrong. In the meantime, we all suffer for their pretense of moral superiority.

Europe Fights Back Against Third World Invasion

Monday, June 5th, 2017

In times of great struggle, we take whatever we can get. The first hints of Europe awakening from its stupor show themselves in response to the most recent reason to pray, change Facebook profile picture and bravely affirm that they will not harm our democracy:

“It looked like the man had been trying to intervene, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was being stabbed quite coldly and he slumped to the ground.”

Ben said the man then walked towards the Southwark Tavern. He said they saw a metal chair being thrown towards the man.

It may not seem like much, but it is a start. It is easy to focus on the negative, namely because when your civilization has failed and is fading away everything is negative, but we should praise this simple start. Perhaps the metal chair can be our new symbol of the rising resistance to the third world invasion of Europe at the behest of its democratic overlords.

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