Thursday, September 15, 2016

From Ryan Lochte to Brock Turner: The Rage of the Cucks

I'm not one to write about (or, for that matter, watch) Dancing with the Stars, but when I heard that American Olympic Swimming gold medalist Ryan Lochte was bum-rushed by angry protestors on national television, my jimmies underwent a swift and pronounced rustling that has not yet subsided.

The protest, which was quickly stifled by security personnel on set, was almost certainly due to the swimmer's alleged misrepresentations as to what transpired after leaving an orgy thrown by the French mens' swim team at the Olympic village.

Lochte, who had the audacity to accuse several off-duty Brazilian police officers of overstepping their legal jurisdiction and essentially robbing him and his teammates at gunpoint for what amounted to scant damages done to a filthy Brazilian gas station restroom, is unlikely to ever win back the good graces of (racist white) cop-hating American normies. Simply put, the protestors who showed up at DWTS are proof, in the current year, even the most mundane, victimless crimes are not to be forgiven.

That is, of course, if the crimes in question are perpetrated by whites.

When the original Lochte situation was breaking news, I was astounded by how passionate my coworkers were when excoriating the American swimmer. The words narrow-minded, racist, and bigot were thrown around like AIDs at a Log Cabin Republicans fundraiser. All because the man allegedly lied about the supposed wrongdoings of off-duty Brazilian cops.

Living in Austin, I can attest that the assassination of five Dallas P.D. officers by a negroidal ex-Marine mere weeks before the Olympics started did not illicit a modicum of disdain from those same wenches that were shocked by Lochte's smear against the dignified reputation only attainable by those that constitute Rio's finest. Also absent from the list of things my normie acquaintances were shocked and outraged by are the recent news of blacks who raped and killed a teen before feeding her to alligators, the black career criminal who murdered two nuns for no reason, or the ongoing European rape epidemic that (((coincidentally))) seems to coincide with the (much, much more important) "Syrian" migrant crisis.

One might suppose, based solely on the social media and irl public outcry that arose from Brock Turner's alleged finger-banging of a blacked out whore behind a dumpster at Stanford, and his subsequent release from prison, that Brock's transgression was the crime of the century. It was a cause célèbre that transcended race, logic, and and socioeconomic standing. Simply put, niggaz wanted dis dude dead.


So too did the cucks, normies, and politically correct acquaintances that comprise the group of people that I associate with on the regular basis.

I suppose the bitter, ironic blackpill that I shall like to bring to light at this point would be succinctly summed up thusly:

In the time it took for me to drunkenly type up this tepid blog post, some nigger out there likely raped and or killed an underaged white teen and will do hard time, hopefully, for his crime. That being said, he will certainly circumvent, quite effortlessly, the media scorn that would be met to any white male who is unlucky enough to commit a far lesser crime.

It was Paul Kersey's Stuff Black People Don't Like blog that first made me aware of the Baylor University rape scandal.  The ESPN piece linked on his site does the story far more justice than I can in my inebriated state, but, suffice it to say, there is certainly a far more prominent rape epidemic perpetuated by collegiate sports that eschews the "privileged, white" world of swimming. It is really not contentious to point out that, had Brock Turner been a black running back at Baylor, he would have had license to actually rape many a virginal freshman girl without the scrutiny of university judicial hearings or police involvement.

I can only question why a story such as the Baylor rape scandal did not illicit the same vitriolic response from staunch leftists and normies alike. For one, the optics of the Baylor rape case are far more powerful, in that they mirror one of the most iconic shots of pre 1960's cinema film.


By comparison, all Turner did was make a shitty decision while hanging out with a total harlot.

Black Lives Matter supporters base their entire ideological framework of law and order on the dubious premise that a vast majority of police officers are racist white males that enjoy shooting blacks without the fear of reprimand. Given the statistics compiled by the New Century Foundation and discussed by American Renaissance, this popular reading of the situation is far from the case.

In what sort of terminal nation would we, as a people, hold Brock Turner's feet to the fire and parade around his home with semiautomatic rifles, all while ignoring the two ton gorilla raping our sister in the very same room? The mass wave of monkey refugees raping our women when their taxpayer-funded "dicking white wimenz" courses don't do the trick.

Truly, we are at this juncture a nation with a self-hating, suicidal majority. We are, for the most part, a society with its eyes closed. Even this, however, comes with a diminutive white pill of hope.

By far one of the most important aspects of my ideological metamorphosis that allowed me to conceptualize the white ethnostate as a enviable goal was the redpill of crime statistics.

Even as a longtime libertarian, I was well aware that blacks behaved fundamentally differently than 99% of whites regardless of their socioeconomic situation. I would see them committing the most idiotic crimes, apparently unaware that smashing bottles into parked cars was a serious offense. I would see them fly off the handle and fight each other for for slights that, to the average white, would be considered paltry and absurd. To be clear, it was as if their very existence in my small suburban town was against some type of natural law that the state would not date enforce.

Suffice it to say, even as a free market cuck, the return on our hard spent inner-city gib's was not promising, so much so that the entire argument of "systemic racism" paled to comparison of the economic absurdity of shelling any money at all out to primitive beings.

While faggy liberal types can simultaneously laud the looting that is commonplace with today's "urban uprisings" and decry Lochte for pissing on the bathroom floor at a Brazilian gas station, those who have seen non-whites behave in white societies and have a passable understanding of a statistical analysis of the results of diversity cannot be fooled by such obvious hypocrisy.

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Diverse Workplaces are Implicitly Anti-White

I work at a privately-owned, smallish company, so it is quite obvious when a new crop of prospective employees are shown around the seventh floor office. While the city in which I reside is flush with diversity, it seems that, somehow, the female-dominated business for which I work has managed to repudiate racial quotas for a working contingency of mostly white, mostly female employees. In my particular office, I might have been the fifth or sixth male, out of roughly a hundred and fifty employees. At that time, there was, perhaps, seven or eight non-whites.

Roughly six or seven months after I began working for the company in question, I noticed an alarming trend. First, it was the morbidly obese, pink or blue-haired anglo land whales being shown around the office. Later, it was a sudden influx of Mestizo women and negroidal males.

To be fair to the latter subsection of my office, I have never had a problem with a black employee, aside from vocational incompetence, truancy, or downright laziness. The vast majority of black people whom I have worked with in the past were overwhelmingly agreeable. I attribute this, at least in part, to the "stop snitchin'" creed that took Black America by storm in the 2000's. Black women, in particular, seem to be rather affable coworkers.

Regardless, I could sense trouble brewing on the horizon, for me in particular. Perhaps it was the alacrity in which the explicit whiteness of the office deteriorated. Perhaps it was the aforementioned obese, androgynous Tumblr wenches that began working at the company at around the same time. I would drive to work four days a week, just waiting for the hammer and sickle to fall.

And fall it did, right before my boss concluded a monthly 1 on 1 meeting we have to go over any pressing issues that have arisen over the past few weeks. It went something like this.

By the way, you know me and (my boss's boss) think you are great. However, it has been brought to our attention that you have been using problematic phrases around the office, and have made at least one coworker feel unsafe in this environment. Do you know, specifically, what I am referring to?

As a matter of fact, I did. How could I not notice the one Mestizo woman sitting within earshot of me constantly glaring at me as if I was Adolf Hitler himself, reincarnated to work a mundane office job for nothing more or less than an agreeable salary and competitive benefits.

You get the picture.
The thing I said, in absolute honesty, is not really important. Not in an office in which the gay males openly refer to being rammed up the ass by their boyfriends, and the women incessantly squawk about how they melted upon sharing an elevator with Chad after working out on the tenth floor. What is more important, in all likelihood, are the things I have said which I was never reprimanded for.

Statements such as "Did you guys catch Trump's foreign policy speech last night?" or "You think Trump's a Nazi? How so?".

It is important to note that while I do work at a female-dominated company in a female-dominated field, the office itself was by no means apolitical until Bernie's amusing foray into the Democratic nomination process ended in cynicism and despair for those who were intimately and emotionally involved. In fact, in Bernie's heyday, the discourse was all the more amusing and commonplace. 

I used to rather enjoy espousing my alt-right leanings to my female coworkers, who would (politely) imply that I was racist, sexist and homophobic for siding with Trump over their Jewish commie savior. To be honest, conversations of that nature with women such as my coworkers did get me off in a funny sort of way. I have, that is, had, no regrets. Not until the wonders of diversity made its way into my office.

Thus, I will make my accusation bluntly. The female beaner who turned me in to my boss for saying something that was implicitly ironic and hardly "problematic" to the fatfuck Tumblr wenches that sit near me did so because I openly support Trump. That's it.

Did she ever approach me regarding my problematic diction or anything else? Hell no. I have never exchanged a single word with her. Did she conveniently misquote me as to portray me as a typical white male misogynist? Conveniently, yes, she certainly did.

The situation was all the more surprising to me in that the Mexican woman in question has not worked for the company for more than a few weeks. Yet, she felt comfortable enough to bring a formal complaint against an established employee for something that would not even warrant reprimand in the most liberal of primary schools.

Naturally, I have a fairly firm grasp on the context of the situation. I openly support Donald Trump for the role of the next President of the United States. Seeing as how the American workforce have always been political animals, it should not come as outlandish or shocking that such a being as myself should find himself gainfully employed. The nameless Mexican woman, by comparison, will likely see a number of her loved ones deported, at least, within the nightmarish context that the media has provided for her. Thus, the cunt took it upon herself to report me, without having made her hurt feelings known to myself. Likely, I would imagine, because her feelings were never hurt to begin with.

To be honest, there is really not an overarching point I am trying to make here, aside from the fact that brown people do try to ruin the lives of un-cucked whites. One can make the argument that women of all races are doing the same to men in the modern American workplace. This is due to the unfair advantage that women have in the workplace solely for the fact that it is them, and not males, that levy absurd charges against their typically-male counterparts for instances that even the faggiest, most liberal-leaning of men would casually guffaw at. 

Thursday, July 21, 2016

An Overdose of Blackpills

I forget exactly when it was that I became racially conscious. It might have been when crazed negros looted Baltimore in an orgy of violence and flame,  the media telling us that it was all our fault, that this, of all things, was the cure for what ails the nation.

I also vaguely remember, about a year ago, watching a David Duke video and thinking, oh shit... why am I not getting triggered by the things this man says? Isn't this guy, like, a racist?

Then again, maybe it happened, subtly, almost imperceptibly, much sooner. I did have a rare anime box set, Escaflowne, for those who care, that was jacked by an obese black kid when I was in 7th grade.

When I went to the boy's house, his mother yelled at me, loudly, something to the affect of "If you di'nt want Tyrone to sell yo movie, why ya let the nigga borrow it, huh? Huh!?" 


My life was never the same.
For those wondering, yes, the boy's name was literally Tyrone. He would be the first nigger I would encounter on my trespass on earth. I truly believe interacting with him and his taxpayer-funded single mother profoundly changed me. The results of which would not be seen, outwardly, at least, for some time. It didn't help that I was on my school's basketball team, either.

Perhaps this is why the whole Obama revolution never sat well with me, even though, up until 2008, I was a card-carrying SJW liberal faggot. I saw the beast as a child, and I recognized it as it lined up in droves to demand power for the people, Obama phones, and a various array of other gibmedats.

All that being said, I cannot overstate the existential dread that surrounds me from my uncomfortable seat at this fucking Austin bar.

It's a comforting thought, though, isn't it? That anyone can become an American. That, after 20 years or so shopping at Wal-Mart and paying taxes, even Abu Omar al-Baghdadi could live here without enticing other shitskins to shoot-up a local gay bar, or, I don't know, convincing some fucking goat-rapist to run over a bunch of people on a national holiday.

It's a comforting thought, but I'm no longer so certain it is backed by any empirical evidence. As a matter of fact, I'm certain it's not.

What, then, is the source of this dread? Frankly, I don't even want to think about it. Not here. Not in Austin, Texas.

The truth is that most of the white men in this city would genocide themselves if given a call to action by a marginally persuasive source. The term cuck hardly does this city justice. It is a waking nightmare that exists only in the wet dreams of minorities and Bernouts. It is a living Hell.

Had I not moved to an exceedingly "liberal" city, I might be much more optimistic concerning the aims of white nationalists. The sad truth, however, is that this is where people want to be. How do I know? From the envious laments of my compatriots, still tucked within the mountainous confines of the town I miss so much.

That being said, I am not convinced, should they have moved to a location such as this, that they would eventually arrive to the same conclusions that characterize my current descent into a suicidal realm of hopelessness. In all honesty, I have concluded that they would likely be more adept than I at going with the proverbial flow. That is, hating themselves, as well as their race. In their defense, I'm sure this would make them much more popular to those around them. They would likely even get laid more often than I do

Is it not, however, a self-loathing, race-despising, straight-banged, polyamorous pussy that they would be penetrating? That, or Buzzfeed-addicted Mexicans, which even I am guilty of sticking my uncircumcised penis into on more than one occasion. As of this post, I am convinced that I am currently fucking the only 1488-approved Mexican woman within city limits. Even that, however, is not enough to assuage the sense that my past two years have been wasted amongst meritless undesirables. I weep for what my mother would feel, had I told her the details of my time here.

The denial and outright repudiation of regionalism and culture are more widespread than some would like to believe. I fear that, unless the faggots whom I am now accustomed to are firebombed, the general conception of nationalist aims in America will not change amongst the overwhelming majority.

Should that happen, and I apologize for sounding like your basic jihadi, how I long to be amongst the flames of such a righteous slaughter.

Monday, July 18, 2016

Why Is The Media Creating the Climate For a Radical Black Army?

It was only a matter of time after the media's "Trump is a Nazi" narrative took hold that radical black cop killers would be treated with the same reverence by media personalities as the genocidal communist Nelson Mandela.

In case you haven't been paying attention, or skipped a number of classes in Race Baiting 101 while working toward your Social Justice degree, here's how it works.

Whites, having institutional privilege and an undercover contingent of Six Gorillion KKK members in influential positions of power across the nation are agents of racism, period.

It really doesn't matter if you came to the Black Lives Matter protest with your white buddies before being assaulted by a hoard of blacks who incriminate themselves by videotaping the assault and admitting their guilt on camera within hours of the attack.

Defend yourself against the hoard; get smeared for being a "white supremacist". Don't count on the local chapter of the NAACP to revise their account of events to include the testimony of the black agitators who initiated the confrontation. In fact, you can nearly always count on the NAACP and similar organizations to add more lies to the already bogus narrative.

At least we can always count on illiterate thugs to tell us the truth. Too bad the media never picks up the story. Because, you know, racism, or whatever.


And so, we have come to yet another instance in which cops are systematically targeted and assassinated by black radicals. This time, in Baton Rouge, by a former Nation of Islam leader whose hatred of "crackers" was only surpassed by his inability to put together coherent thoughts on his many auttism-laden Youtube videos.

Is it any surprise, at this juncture in Obama's presidency, that the media is unable to denounce actions of this nature, even while prominent black radicals call for an escalation to the violence?

The Hughey P. Newton Gun Club is a prime example of why American conservatives, especially those of a libertarian disposition, should seriously reconsider the implications of their support for unlimited civil liberties for all. As Aaron Klein of Breitbart noted in today's piece:
The Huey P. Newton Gun Club says on its website it is seeking to “develop over time to a regimented Black Army.”
Some might note that we have had two major police shootings in the past two weeks that involved black veterans of unnecessary, Israel-sanctioned conflicts. If the thought of a "regimented Black Army" on American soil does not frighten you, then you are likely unaware of how military blacks seem to rape and kill at even higher rates than their inter-city counterparts. Just ask a typical Okinawan who perpetrates sexual violence against their middle school girls.

Alas, we have traveled so far down the rabbit hole of media narrative manipulation that as a white American it is safer and more politically correct to defend the actions of a cop-killing racist than to espouse an understanding for virtually any aspect of Donald Trump's campaign for President.

Frankly, blacks in America today are being inundated with more anti-white, anti-establishment rhetoric than at any time in American history, including the short-lived era of slavery. Zionist mouthpieces of the major media conglomerates are painting a black and white portrait of black culture. For those who have spent any time around concentrated areas of blacks, this is a chilling thought.

In my high school, the black kids that generally followed the rules, studied, and didn't conduct themselves like ignorant apes were systematically belittled, assaulted, and dehumanized by the much-larger contingent of illiterate, violent thugs. Their "blackness" was called into question mercilessly by teenagers that had their own racial awakening while listening to Lil Wayne and other "urban intellectuals" of his ilk glorify ignorance, drug-abuse, and general chimpishness.

If kids are the future... this is not a good sign.
In a few years, is it hard to imagine black youths being singled out just as ruthlessly for not openly espousing the anti-white, pro-domestic terrorist ideology that has just worked itself into the mainstream? I can picture it now: an ignorant black youth bullied because, although he hates cops, he isn't taking the necessary steps to kill as many as possible. Nigga, you only got a gat? You aint no real nigga, you can't even kill upwards of  three or fo' pigs wid dat piece, bitch. 

While I would absolutely love to keep my posts PC enough to appeal to a wider range of readers, this is not the time to water down my rhetoric. Frankly, I do not believe the black community as it exists today has the intellectual ability nor the desire to withstand the full-frontal assault of racist propaganda that they are being force-fed by nearly all segments of society. This is demonstrated by the numerous mass-shootings that have transpired since the media's racial huxters made the sniper attack in Dallas look like Martin Luther King's speech at the Washington Monument.

Just a reminder. Innocent Trump supporters aren't too far below cops in the media's totem pole of perpetrators of racism. Arm yourself accordingly if you possess the testicular fortitude to let your heretical political ideology be known by those around you.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Reflections Upon Attending a Black Lives Matter Protest

I haven't exactly been very nice to the Black Lives Matter movement.

Although I stand by everything I said regarding the impending race war and the insincere means by which BLM leadership victimizes members of its own community by utilizing a patently false narrative of black victimization, until Friday, I had never confronted the ape head on. When Anonymous's national "Day of Rage" lured Black Lives Matter to the Texas State Capitol Building, however, just a couple of blocks from my office building, I knew I had no choice but to show up and see what all the fuss was about.

Surprisingly, the people I work with, most of whom espouse sympathy to the Black Lives Matter movement, did not go to the protest, or even show up at the office that day. They were afraid the scene would devolve into violence.

Naturally, the protest did not end in anything that can be considered violence. I attribute this to the fact that at least 80% of the people that attended the protest were androgynous white liberals, ubiquitous to Austin, with a smattering of blacks here and there to give the overall scene a pinch of diversity. Paying homage to the incoming struggle between mestizos and blacks for the role of "prime victim" within the supposed Nazi white power superstructure that is America, there were very few Mexicans present at the rally, despite their overwhelming representation in Austin.

Indeed, the dreadlocked, portly black woman that spoke to the crowd did make multiple appeals for "violence," against whites, but only within the context of the libertarian non-aggression principal. This is because nearly everything she said was an appeal for the whites in the audience (and, by extension, whites across America) to "give more" to help out the "suffering brothas and sistas," whether it be of their own volition or enforced by law. Below is an example of the diction employed by the speaker:

"How many of you own a small business?" 
(around ten people raise their hands)
"Okay, how many of you know someone who owns their own business?" 
(more people raise their hands) 
"Are you noticing a trend here? We need your help. Supporting Black Lives Matter is not enough. When a brotha or sista applies for your company, give them the job. End the destructive pattern of racism that permeates the American economic model. Let us help ourselves and be represented."
To listen to the repeated appeals for more concentrated affirmative action measures, redistribution of wealth to struggling black communities, and outright giving blacks preferential treatment through various facets of social, political, and economic life, the message of the speaker was clear. A majority of black Americans are ill-equipped to overcome the (imaginary) institutional racism of American life, and need vast amounts of help to even sustain a destitute existence devoid of dignity or human agency. Although the topic of police brutality and the accountability of law enforcement agents did come up, it was not a key component of discourse.

Regardless, the mostly white, majority-female crowd was eating it all up. Perhaps it made the many childless twenty-something year old women feel a jolt of maternal pride. Gazing around the crowd, which seemed surprisingly awe-inspired by the speaker's ebonic-laden, semi-literate oratory stylings, one could sense the feminized men among the protestors felt the same maternal pride for the "wretched blacks" they help to promote and protect.

After posting some casually racist bants to my twitter account, I talked to around ten police officers in the immediate vicinity of the protest, more interested in their thoughts than the approximately two hundred or so protestors. The cops were the very essence of professional; as such, they answered none of my questions regarding media bias of reports involving the shooting of black men, black criminality, or the concept of systemic racism. To be fair to the cops, I got the feeling that they suspected I was a Black Lives Matter type; my scrawny, pale visage did me no favors in that regard. Nonetheless, I finally found some officers that would speak to me freely about race relations in America, and how the media frames the situation.

Not surprisingly, it was a black peace officer that first answered my question regarding how the race of the victim of a police shooting frames the media's narrative and coverage of said shooting. His response (taken from recollection alone) can be summarized thusly:

"I mean, I get it. The media is trying to improve ratings. The media is trying to make money. For whatever reason, people care when a black man is shot by police. It really doesn't do us any favors though, the way they sensationalize it, case by case..."
This response peaked the interest of a diminutive white officer that stood beside the speaker in the line of cops standing and smoking beside their motorcycles. Rather, it seemed to legitimize the white officer's own concerns regarding the current political climate. Just as white Black Lives Matter protestors seem to let autistic black women take the lead in verbalizing pressing matters of the black community, and then chant back the appropriate platitudes, in time, the white officer waited for the black officer to finish before giving me his own thoughts.

While the police officers giving obviously-planned responses to my question displayed no emotion whatsoever, the smallish, young officer said more with his Dean Moriarty eyes than the black officer said with his thoughtful response to my question. He agreed with the black cop's assertions that the media was generating a narrative that, in turn, would generate cash. However, he saw the situation as one which would inevitably generate an irreversible shift in the nature of American policing. He took no issue with stating that more officers would die, with regularity, in the coming months. Not even two days later, it appears that he was right.

Alas, how I wish I could have spoken to more cops, more protestors! Unfortunately, however, I am a man of privilege, and the valet I had summoned was awaiting me by my office building. On my trek back to my vehicle, however, I did partake in one more conversation, this time with a Black Lives Matter protestor that looked suspiciously like Killer Mike.

That is to say, fat, black and well groomed.
The reason I tried to butt into the conversation the man was having with his girlfriend was because he was the first black person I saw that night who displayed an ounce of genuine emotion in the wake of the protest. Not surprisingly, he indicated that "I wouldn't understand" the intellectual merits of his "uniquely black" struggle, of which he and his black female companion opined on.

It took less than thirty seconds for the two of us to determine that the same facet of the protest had us each feeling incensed. We were both pissed that the aforementioned chunky black bimbo that lead the protest did nothing but whine about black powerlessness without the generous assistance of white Americans.

As it turned out, we disagreed with the premise of her statements for different reasons pertaining to our respective racial identities. I for one, find myself tired of being held personally responsible for uplifting Black America out of a festering pit of criminality, ignorance, and apathy. Killer Mike, on the other hand, found himself tired of hearing how the only way blacks can succeed in America is with the agency of whites like me, who do not give a damn about Black America in the first place.

It was a rather enjoyable conversation, and one that made attending the protest worthwhile. Even a cursory glance at my blog will demonstrate my rapid metamorphosis from a racially-apathetic libertarian into yet another disciple of Andew Anglin. Nonetheless, my current views seemed to reside with Killer Mike in a more profound way than the brainwashed cunt that articulated the Soros-funded message of Black America to generations of white liberal patsies.

Before returning by my car, Killer Mike, who displayed open hostility upon meeting me, invited me to a barbecue that he was having in support of local black Austin youth in the coming weeks. Naturally, I will not be attending his barbecue. Obviously, this is due to the demographic that a event featuring the performance of "Lil' Scrappy" would entail.

Nevertheless, the chance encounter did give me a unique opportunity to view blacks in America, and the Black Lives Matter movement, in a new light.

While I still maintain that, on average, whites are cognitively superior to blacks, neither race is above mass Jewish subversion. To lump every black person that shows up to a specific protest as the same card carrying communist subversive as the speakers of such events is patently false. Given that many blacks today, it would seem, actually prefer a situation more akin to apartheid or legislated segregation than to the current situation of taxpayer-funded black slums, perhaps the "Alt-Right," as it were, could do more to reach out to such factions, as opposed to grouping them with the ignorant black niggers that revel in the destruction of their own communities.

As it turns out, some black radicals, such as Killer Mike, seemed to take no pride in these "protests," and seemed remarkably happy to discuss matters with a white nationalist in a city dominated by degenerate liberal faggots.

In the meantime, stay strong, my black brother. Our time of separation may rapidly be approaching. The both of us, I'm sure, could not be more glad.

Friday, July 15, 2016

The Night Before the Day Of Rage

So, there's this. I was made aware of it from a mass email sent out by the company I work for. As the "Day of Rage" would likely be going on right in front of our office before half us would leave, we could stay home for the day if we chose to. Nobody asked why this was necessary.

If you pay close attention, you can tell this photo is a clever fake.
At least 75% of my coworkers are white females. If asked how they felt about urban criminality, they would half-whisper "black lives matter" before scurrying away. If asked how they feel about Trump, they respond with the now ubiquitous "seriously?" that has made the question itself all but irrelevant. Political agency aside, they are good women. The future of the white race.

Suffice it to say, they will not be at the office tomorrow due to the slight possibility that the race war they helped promote will alchemize out of apathetic debt slavery in the humid Texas air. Will anybody be there to see what happens?

I wouldn't give the 7/11 across the street too much hope. You know how nonviolent protestors get the munchies, the unquenchable hankering for Newport cigarettes and White Owls. Without a steady stream of white debt slaves, the 20 homeless black men that hang out there during the day might have to find a new corner for the weekend. In 2016.

I felt rage in my heart once. Back in the good old days. Before naked Asian children, their pajamas and flesh singed off of them, food to the flamethrowers. Before the bulging brains of Iraqi kids, the product of literal tons of depleted uranium. I guess there's a million other things too. Watching the brains get bashed out of people my age on Liveleak. Usually by ethnic hordes, because dude's skin isn't dark enough. Maybe his nose is too wide. It happens more often than normies think and I don't want to be on the receiving end of it. Unlike my coworkers, however, I must see this rage with my own eyes, just to confirm that it's real.

A few days ago the sitting President of the United States sided with an hilariously antisemitic Crip and a ghetto lolicon over white police officers massacred in cold blood by militant negro man. And just like that, all the bullshit my dad said about Obama over the years turned out to be correct. I suppose he got most of it from Sean Hannity, so he must have been right too. As was Ron Paul all those years ago in the racist newsletters that disqualified him for presidency in the mind of slaves. The nigga started a race war, and he even picked a side given the opportunity to play the neutral party. Perhaps even his genes are raging race war within him--But how does the Jew win out every single time?

If I were black,  I'd be allowed to name the Jew. I could be a civic leader just like Philando Castile. I could be a lovable loli-fucker like the snaggle-toothed like Alton Sterling. And everyone would love me, as long as some hood rat's cameraphone watched by self-initiated State execution.

I don't need love. I don't need rage either, but I'll maybe stay for a while and see what transpires. Does Anonymous start multi-state race riots now? Something doesn't seem right. But I'll go just so the white nationalist contingent can be represented. After righting that one post, I guess I have to go.

Despite governmental warnings and unadulterated fear of those in the area I think the Day of Rage will be okay. I foresee a lot of faggy chanting about the white devil. I see a thousand white sheep chanting along. Some blacks will probably break some stuff; the 7/11 will likely be robbed.

I might nervously clutch my knife in my pocket, now and again. But it will be fine.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Do Black Lives Matter? No, So Let's Stop Pretending.

Have you ever stopped to wonder precisely what it is concerning the blackness of specific lives that make them matter so much? I have. After

This is coming from a millennial who considered Mumia Abu-Jamal a personal hero for most of  the past decade. Having wasted an absurd amount of time researching his highly-publicized 1982 trial at a Northern Virginia university in early 2010, I was hard-pressed to find one sympathetic, that is to say, genuinely interested, soul, white or black, in the entire room.

Beginning my research, which I attempted to undertake in the most scholarly fashion, I was forced to withhold my preconceived notions of Mumia's innocence and a vast governmental conspiracy which sentenced him to what amounted to a legalized lynching. Several months, and hundreds upon hundreds of pages of scholarly journals later, I was convinced that Mumia likely did murder Officer Faulkner, but deserved to be released, nonetheless, due to the overt racial overtones that the trial took. Naturally, my opinions have since changed.

When Trayvon Martin was shot and killed by George Zimmerman in 2012, I honestly couldn't grasp the unprecedented amount of vitriol that accompanied the news in black communities across the country even though I was generally sympathetic to the overarching "cause" of black victimization. Had Trayvon, in a black community, tried to assault an armed black man, would the situation have played out differently? Published rates of black on black violence indicate it likely would not have. Except for, perhaps, Trayvon's killer would have, most assuredly, not snitched on himself to the "racist cops". Suffice it to say, understanding the media's characterization of Zimmerman as your typical "racist white southerner" was also quite difficult for me at the time.

At best, an honorary Aryan.
In the aftermath of the killing, which, incredibly, was attributed to white racism, the newly-formed Black Lives Matter movement found a sympathetic ear for real and imagined racial grievances all around the nation. Fast-forward to today, and cops can hardly murder a potentially innocuous black man without a "nonviolent" protest screaming into fruition moments later. Unfortunately, these "nonviolent protests" (media term) generally amount to property destruction, looting, and egregious bodily injury, none of which are reported in-depth by the mainstream media.

Ironically, the rise of Black Lives Matter has occurred simultaneously to my own racial awakening as an unabashedly white American. Based on nothing less than the meteoric rise of Donald Trump as the presumptive Republican nominee for President and the mass-availability of dank right-wing memes on the internet, this has been the case for many of my contemporaries as well.

The cause of this paradigm shift for white Americans, incomprehensible as it may be to blacks, as well as virtue-signaling SJW's of various racial denominations, is the vast wealth of government and academic data detailing violent crime rates broken down racially, as well as the real-life experiences of whites all over the country. Put simply, the data instructs a pronounced fear of black lives, as opposed to for them.

It's time to upgrade the rhetoric, Normies

I'm not certain whom it was that coined the utopian phrase "All Lives Matter," but whoever it was had no inkling of understanding as to the grave nuances of American racial discourse.

According to the DOJ's Color of Crime report, 560,600 violent crimes, including murder, aggravated assault, and rape, were committed against whites by blacks in the years 2012-2013. If 10% of these crimes, utilizing the most violent and morally reprehensible foremost, were given the same airtime on mainstream news outlets as the shooting of convicted sex offender and deadbeat dad Alton Sterling, over eighteen stories of whites being attacked by blacks would have to be run, non-stop, per day.

I know what you are likely thinking. Hold on there, man, you are getting dangerously close to saying White Lives Matter.

Well, they do. As I have seen no indication that a re-focusing of the national discussion on race and crime using "#AllLivesMatter" in any way brings white or black America's attention to truly astounding levels of black criminal violence, perhaps we can all do a little better to dispel the Victimization Gospel of Gibsmedat that is engrained in Black Lives Matter doctrine.

While many will point out that violent crimes perpetrated by blacks is an even larger problem in black communities than in others, the DOJ report does actually help one come to a conclusion that violent black criminals have a greater in-group preference against harming blacks than violent white criminals do against tormenting whites. As such, whites attack non-whites at a rate of around 18%, whereas black criminals target non-blacks at a rate of close to 60%.

From American Renaissance
The truth is, you are never going to be able to convince one of the twerking negresses at Alton Sterling's candlelight vigil that lives, other than black ones, are worth a damn. The same is true for the militant blacks glorifying White genocide on twitter. They are all well aware that their race causes more violence, per capita, than any other. How can you expect them to acknowledge the issue, however, when the media characterizes "black violence" as a tin-foil hoax on par with David Icke's polarizing discourse on the role of reptilians in the modern age of globalism.

Instead of tweeting #AllLivesMatter, and pretending that you care that some black gangbanger was shot and killed by police, just stop. In any given week that a white (ie: White, Hispanic, or Asian) cop kills a black man, there must be at least ten news stories you can spam instead in which a black crack-head shot a white pastor, a militant negreess kicked a pregnant soccer mom in the stomach, or some inner-city black shot a Korean storeowner in the face for what amounts to less than one of his monthly welfare payouts.

While voicing your concerns for white lives online, you will undoubtedly come across a routine argument from the left. But cops are paid by our taxes, you racist buffoon. How can public servants get away with so much racialized murder?

Although I was unable to come up with any meaningful data on the topic, it is safe to assume, and to point out to any self-hating white or Black Lives Matter type that would listen, that blacks on welfare likely account for more interracial murders in a quarter than cops shoot black men per year. 

Wait. (((Who))) was it that convinced us that black lives mattered, again?