We’re Awfully Bad

Your faithful correspondent has the bad habit of listening to Nation Public Radio during the weekends. The reason is not so much for the news programming, but because of the various feature programs.
After years of listening to NPR during the weekend this writer has decided that the NPR news programming is really more for black people than for all people. And that’s great. If the network were honest about the fact. Michelle Martin is a perfectly lovely woman with a nice voice, but let us face the fact that her concern, as a news reader, is not for the greater populace. Weekend NPR news makes it a point to feature stories about black Americans instead of white or Hispanic or Asian Americans.
There is a feature during the weekend NPR news called The Barber Shop. During the segment people talk about things that they think of common interest. But the conceit of the segment is that for whites and Asians and Hispanics a barber shop is a place where one goes to get one’s hair cut while it appears that black Americans men see a barber shop as a place to talk about the affairs of the day. Most men of Asian, white and Hispanic origin consider a haircut a chore and not an opportunity to talk about the important matters of the day. Those things are done at work of the neighborhood or the golf course or bowling alley.
Black Americans are all too often mistreated by the governmental authorities, but the fact is that many people who are not Black are mistreated by representative of the governments of various sorts.
But who bitches about it? It’s not whites or Asians or Hispanics. It’s African-Americans. The question is why? Why would there be a national brouhaha about two black men being kicked out of a Starbucks for sitting in the place without buying a thing while it would not have been a big deal if two whitey-birds or two Mexicans or two Japanese had done the same and received the same reaction from the Starbucks (buy coffee or get out) would not have been a big deal?
One can only assume that white people are bad.And they are awfully bad.

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Peoples are The Cwaziest People!

For those who are younger than Warner Brothers cartoons, the term “Animals are the cwaziest people!” was a not infrequent comment about the actions of a cartoon animal.
The truth of the matter is that people are the craziest people. To call animals crazy, unless they actually are suffering hydrophobia or an organic disease, are, as far as we know, not particularly deep thinking creatures. It’s all food, mating, sleeping and keeping warm as far as the average coyote or shark or pigeon is concerned. There are examples of animals caring for others that are not of their species, but these instances are rare. If they were not rare they would not have been reported as news.
But humans, who are supposed to be higher creatures, both by evolutionists and creationists and are supposed to be thinking and caring creatures, are just damn crazy. To put it in vulgar terms, humans are as crazy as shithouse rats. And that’s pretty damn crazy.
Fortunately, most humans are not really quite mad. Everyone seems to have a bit of madness lurking behind their Brooks Brothers suit or over their Jimmy Choo shoes (not to mention Dickies and Nike wearer). And usually we recognize the truly mad. They are the people who are screaming at street lamps, talking to themselves and drooling at Wal-Mart, accepting Academy Awards. You know the type.
But sometimes these charming fellows get under the radar by hiding their madness under some sort of activism. Take this article for example:

https://www.azcentral.com/story/news/nation/2018/04/15/gay-rights-lawyer-burns-himself-death-protest-against-fossil-fuels-immolates-self-nyc-ecology-protes/518678002/

The upshot of the article is that a man who has been an activist lawyer for gay rights decided that it would be a pretty good idea to to a public park after midnight and set himself afire in order to protest the use of fossil fuels. It’s an interesting idea, to say the least, but was just plain crazy for several reasons. The first is that he decided to got and barbecue himself at a park after midnight when no body was around to witness his “brave activism.” Did he really expect his act to have the same effect with a pile of ashes and a letter as he would have had if he had performed his act of resistance in the middle of the day? Even Vietnamese monks know better than that despite the fact that they don’t have post-graduate educations. What did he use as the accelerant? Gas? A fossil fuel. Kerosene? A fossil fuel. Pine tar? Well…
The man had other problems. You can go to Vegas and place a bet on the fact and come home with a lot of coin in your pocket. Who knows? Bad love affair? Self loathing? Just plain Bedlam worthy madness? You can be pretty damn sure that it wasn’t a matter of global warming or fossil fuels.
On a second, but related sense of craziness, there is a societal nuttiness that seems to know no bounds. Actually, it’s not so much a societal madness as it is a factional madness that sees only itself as the plus non ultra of a complete and enclosed culture within the greater world and that if anything is taken from that enclosed culture is stealing.
We see this in this weekend’s brouhaha about Taylor Swift (a singer that your faithful correspondent does not care for, be it known) singing a cover of an Earth, Wind and Fire song.
For those not old enough to remember, Earth, Wind and Fire were a funk type band from the 1960s to the 1980s. They still may be around. But they were a band made up of African-Americans.
So what Taylor Swift’s crime was that she took an EWF song and reworked it to suit her self and her style. In other words, she did what thousands of singers have done over the years. But because she’s probably the most white woman in the public eye and has taken a song (and she paid the royalties for it) from a black band and she’s called a cultural appropriator.
Does any of this make any damn sense at all? Even the Ku Klux Klan never called the Ink Spots or the Mills Brothers cultural appropriators fro singing song written and first performed by white men and women. Do supposedly sane and level headed white people demand that black people not use guitars (the current guitar being the Spanish guitar and an European invention) or pianos or pipe or Wurlitzer organs?
It’s madness and it’s a madness that is supported by the media. It’s as if a virus has slowly made its way into the body politic and is finally revealing itself. And we’ve been so slow to notice the symptoms that the symptoms seem to have become the norm.

Who Cares?

Well, we’re slowly getting into the entertainment award season, and you know what that means. That means that there will be a whole lot of movies that you wouldn’t want to watch getting awards so that perhaps you’ll watch them.
In other words, it’s a case of the tail trying to wag the dog because the movie industry sees certain projects as “art”: and the other stuff as just “penny dreadfuls” that make money to support their art.
The wise movie watcher knows that there is no art in films because there is no “artist” in films. There is more “art” in the launch of a missile because the missile is the vision of one person and a lot of other skilled people trying to make that vision come true. And that vision has consequences in ways that movies don’t. A missile will destruct on a launch pad in five seconds and much money is lost by the missile builder and the satellite investors. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. A bad movie has a long life. It can become a cult movie and make its money back.
Let us face it: Movie making is no more of an art than is building a rocket. Rockets aren’t as pretty as some young full bosomed young thing or a chiseled GQ model, but it does a lot more for one than does the entertainment industry. I allows you to call your cousin in Tahiti or Greenland without having to go through a long distance operator with a nasal voice and questions.
Movie making is entertainment. It’s jesterism on a screen. It’s like awarding a player in a bad passion play a best actor award because he got all the lines right. And that was his job. To get the lines right.
Why award people for doing the job they were hired to do?

Well, It’s Their Loss

Lately in the students of the elite English language colleges have been complaining that their English literature course have material from too many old, dead white men. The students ask how can they, as young and multi-ethnic young people, be expected to learn and appreciate plays poems and novels written by “colonialists” who had no other aim in mind while writing their works to re-enforce “white privilege” over the benighted masses of the world…So, in other words, the students, who have been given not even a modicum of a high school education as was regarded less than twenty years ago, think that Beowulf, The Canterbury Tales, Othello, Oliver Twist, The Scarlet Letter, Huckleberry Finn and The Old Man and the Sea were all written by old white men who had nothing on their minds with nothing in mind but oppressing people who were not English or American. In other words, literature written in lands where English is the native language is oppressive to the rest of the world……It’s all nonsense of course argued by half educated and spoiled young people who want to wear Indian head dresses and pretend to be Shoshones instead of the Irish-German or Mexican-Japanese mutt that they are. Primitives are charming, even when they perform honor killings or or try to cure diseases by shaking rattles and doing a funky dance. And the reason is because the media and the schools have convinced this whole clueless cohort that to kill one’s daughter for liking the wrong man or to expect a rattle shake and shimmy to cure diabetes is real, while Western morality and science are all “constructs” based on “white privilege . And everyone knows that white people, especially white men are evil and are bad for the world….So that’s the basis of the “angry” college student’s argument…,.,We here at Bloody Nib Manor have considered this matter while not being blotto on port or checking the ha-ha, and we have come up with two solutions to this problem. The colleges can either collapse under the pressure of the students and return to the students their tuition and ask them to leave and go to a state university. Or the students, if they be as honest and ethical as they say they are, can leave the college and go to a state uni. But the students will not leave their chosen uni because, while not interested in a proper education, they want to have a diploma that states that they graduated from an elite college because they hope that it will give them opportunities in the future. And considering the state of modern elite university education, the diploma will not be an asset while applying to any business that wants to profit…..Regarding English language writing outside of the British Isles and North America, this writer can only paraphrase Saul Bellow, “Show me the Zulu or Caribbean writer who writes as well in English as does Jane Austen you’ll have an argument.”

Benito Mussolini Plans To Sue Donald Trump!

The Weekly Mercury has learned that long dead Italian dictator, Benito Mussolini, is making preparations to sue Presidential candidate, Donald J. Trump for copyright infringement and plagiarism.

Long time official Weekly Mercury psychic and scryer, Countess Natasha Mentholatum, recently contacted the bombastic Italian during a seance covered exclusively by the Weekly Mercury, your source for news that other news outlets ignore or try to hide.

The seance was held at Countess Natasha’s mansion in the hidden reaches of the Angeles National Forest, that is so secret that even the United States Forest Service does not know that the 12,000 square foot mansion exists on government land. After greeting this reporter into her “spirit room” the Countess prepared herself for the seance by shot gunning several shots of Gilby’s gin followed by a chaser of Old Crow. Despite the copious amount of alcohol that the Countess seems to imbibe, she is a lovely woman of middle height and svelte figure clothed in a St. Tropez skirt and wrap around stripped blouse. Her raven black hair, worn long and wavy, contrasts strongly with her pale complexion, but emphasizes her liquid black eyes.

In the near darkness of the room Countess Natasha leaned back in her red velvet high backed chair, closed her eyes and began chanting in a language that your correspondent was unable to understand. The air in the room seemed to vibrate. Then suddenly the Countess sat up, her ample chest thrust out, her head slightly tilted back and her chin jutting out. She looked at this writer as if she were looking at something on the bottom of a shoe.

” Buengiorno”, she said in a man’s voice much unlike her usual melodious and soft voice.

“Who are you?” was asked.

” You ask who I am? You do not recognize me? Benito Mussolini? Il Duce? The Savior of Italy?  Are you a fool? I am the man who made Italy great again. I am the man who rebuilt the Rome of ancient days.”

” What do you have to say to us, Signore Mussolini? What do you have to tell the people of the 21st century?”

” Signore? You dare to call me Signore?! Are you an uneducated Sicilian peasant talking talking to your landlord or barber? I am Il Duce.”

“We apologize, Duce. Do you have anything to tell us.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I want to say that I will be suing the American Donald Trump. He has, how do you say in American English? Stolen my gig? Copied my style? He has plagiarized me and copied me without my permission. I am going to sue the man. He, by his copying me, has made me a joke.”

” How so, Duce?”

” Because he is, how you say? a fake me. I was, and am, a strong man. I copied no one. But he copies me in the same way that Muhammad Ali copied me. The Trump is a weak man with a loud mouth. He’s a bad imitation of me. He thrusts out his jaw. He bitches. He struts and preens. But he like a five year old girl trying to be me. And you silly Americans seem to have bought into his silliness. Let us be honest, amico, the Trump is a con man of the worst sort — a snake oil salesman, as you say. He should be standing on a horse drawn wagon with a dwarf clown selling a miraculous cure for cancer. I was, in a sense, a con man. But I was a big con man doing a long con. And I actually did, according to some, make Italy great again. At least I made the trains run on time. I had style. I had power. I had a world outside of fake universities. I was bombastic and pushy and insulting. And I created that style. The Trump has stolen that from me when he had no right. I will sue him and get all his money and give it to my surviving children and grandchildren. The Trumpp will pay and pay dearly. And don’t be surprised if The Trump starts wearing a black cap with and eagle on the front. The man is shameless.”

” How will you sue him since you are on ‘the other side?'”

” I am now personal friends with F. Lee Bailey. If he could get O. J. Simpson off a murder charge he’ll have no trouble with the Trump. He knows and keeps in contact with those on your side of the veil.”

” You mentioned Muhammad Ali stealing your bit. Why not sue him?”

” Muhammad Ali is a sports figure. Sport figures and entertainers mean nothing. They are jokes. And, beside, Ali, idiot that he is and was and always will be, brought me back, in a sense. He and his cohorts in the entertainment world can say that they’re the greatest all they want and it means nothing in the big picture. They are jesters. Bad jesters. And, in their hearts they know it. But the Trump actually does believe that he is the greatest and he stole my bit.”

” Do you have anything else to share with us, Duce?”

” Yes. That Monica Belluci is a real babe.”

At that point Countess Natasha gave a disturbing gasp and and then sank back into her chair. After about thirty seconds of heavy breathing she opened her eyes and looked at this writer.

” How ’bout a martini? Just wave the vermouth over the gin.”

So there you have it, Weekly Mercury readers. A message from beyond concerning today.

( The above is fiction and satire)

 

Klaa’tu Endorses Trump!

Today the Weekly Mercury has learned that the famous space alien, Klaa’tu, has endorsed Donald Trump for Republican candidate for President of the United States.

As regular readers of the Weekly Mercury are aware, Klaa’tu is a space alien of vaguely humanoid appearance (some people refer to him as a Gray), who first arrived on Earth via a spherical spaceship from the planet G’tcha, which is in the Trep’nn galaxy, approximately 3.142 million light years from our terrestrial ball.

As a diplomat from G’tcha, Klaa’tu has met with many world leaders, including President Obama, the Pope, Kim Jung-Il and Kanye West. The benevolent alien has offered advice to the world leaders concerning world peace and to us all with suggestions that we eat less meat, less dairy and more junk food. Rumor has it that he is working with Martha Stewart on a book about inter-galactic entertaining and decor.

On Thursday, after the debate in Houston, Klaa’tu appeared back stage with Donald Trump and told the world, through his Babelfish device, that he, and all G’tcha, support Donald Trump for Republican candidate and, in fact, as the next president of the United States. The alien hovered over Mr. Trump and placed a long fingered hand on Mr. Trump’s wig as if giving a blessing.

Mr. Trump, looking a little less like he had been sucking sour lemons than usual, responded with these words:

” I thank Klaa’tu for his endorsement. I love aliens! I love space aliens. And they love me! I will not build a wall to keep them out. I welcome them and I look forward to the day that a space alien becomes President of the United States. Aliens are smart. They got here from a ‘yuge’ distance away. We can’t even get to the Moon again. We had two Space Shuttles blow up. Who can respect a space agency that let’s it’s astronauts be blown up. I like winners. Space aliens are winners And space aliens know that I’m a winner.

“Thank you Klaa’tu. You’re All-American. Your endorsement will help make America great again. And thank you for promising to revive Trump University where the study of the G’tcha text, To Serve Man, will be studied. And just between the press, Klaa’tu and wonderful self, Klaa’tu has told me that he thinks that Marco Rubio is a little yapping lap dog and that Ted Cruz is a crazy Cuban-Canadian.

“Thank you, Klaa’tu. You’re great! But not as great as me.”

Neither Klaa’tu or Mr. Trump answered questions after the announcement

(The above is fiction. And anyone not getting the joke about To Serve Man should watch the Twilight Zone Marathon.)

The Hateful Taratino

This writer has rarely been a fan of the films of Quentin Taratino. The only film of the man’s that this writer has thought worth a damn was Jackie Brown, which film’s source was a story by Elmore Leonard. QT’s work has mostly come from the the depths of his all too popular cinema infested imagination and his own sense of self-aggrandizement. He likes to play the bad boy with a sense of cheap movie history. He’s like the kid in school, who during history class, would say something like, “Yeah! But Columbus was a jerk!” without being able, or not willing to, look at the bigger picture.
It came out this week that during the filming of the latest Tarantino mess, The Hateful Eight, a Martin guitar built in the 1870s was destroyed while filming a scene.
The guitar was on loan from the C.F. Martin company along with several copes of the guitar. The understanding by Martin was that the guitar would be returned whole and undamaged and that one of the copies would be destroyed.
The latest buzz on the Internet is that Kirk Russell destroyed the guitar (he was the actor who was supposed to destroy a guitar), but, in reality, it was QT who destroyed the guitar. He did not stop Russell before the guitar destroying scene and replace the original with the fake. In fact, QT was the one who asked for an original guitar when he could have just asked for a copy. It’s not as if the movie going public would be able to tell the difference between the two. He could have gone to Wal-Mart and bought a $100 guitar and distressed the thing and passed it off as an 1870s guitar.
But QT is an awful self promoter and likes his reputation as the “bad boy” of establishment Hollywood. And if he can get ink for destroying an artifact of American history, he will. After all, history means nothing to the man. His history, such as it is, is cheap B movie history.
Keep this man away from Mount Vernon.

The Battle of Minas Tirath

There is a battle that is taking place in the West despite the fact that our political betters do not realize it or do not wish to admit it.

This battle is between Judeo-Christian values in a society and Islam and Islamists. In fact, this writer posits that among the world’s “great” religions Islam is the most aggressive and most violent of the religions. It is no surprise that there are violent Hindus in India and violent Buddhists in Ceylon and and Siam, but those violent factions are as much nationalistic as they are religious. When was the last time that the reader heard read or heard about an attack by violent Zen Buddhists in New York or Hare Krishnas in Venice, California?

But our Mohammedan “brothers” have not been loathe to make attacks on any Western target they can get away with. Are all adherents of the of the faith proprogated by the by the Arab trader, shyster, polygamist, and prophet, Mamout (aka, Mohammed) terrorist who want to separate your noggin from your gullet or want to blow you up? Of course not! But those who don’t want to kill you are pretty much of the “go along to get along” type. In other words, they’ll kiss the hand of anyone who has the whip like much of France did during World War Two. Consider how many Frenchmen became “resistance fighters” after the end of the war while during the Occupation by the Germans they sold their daughters to a Kraut. Most Frogs were more than willing to live under the Nazis as long as it didn’t interfere with their business. The great exceptions were communities of Huguenots who protected Jews.

But this writer has digressed,as he often does.

Like it or not, Western civilization, and this writer means classical Western civilization, and not the modern or post-modern nonsense that passes for culture today, is under attack by a bunch of desert dwelling barbarians of a barbaric religion that the worshippers of Ba’al would have recognized as comperes.

Few of our political “betters”are willing to admit that we, as Christians, Jews, Atheists, Buddhists, Hindhus, Bahais, Sikhs and Wiccans are really under attack by a faction, and probably the most orthodox faction, of a religion created by an Arab trader with a taste for the young stuff. But they don’t want to offend the adherents of this nonsense because they will lose money from the Mohammedan lobbies and nations and lose votes from the very small Mohammedan voting bloc. After all, from the point of view of the average vote-beggar, we are the world and we should buy the world a Coke while getting kicked in the teeth because said Coke is not sugar-free, real cane sugar, corn sugar or any sort of sugar. They have the moral and national strength of toothpicks being borne down upon by a truncated pyramid that has the words “One Ton” written upon it and actually weighs one ton.

Know that we are in a battle like that of Minas Tirath. The politicians will deny that there is such a battle. Then once they wise up and know that it is happening they will expect the reader to send his or her daughter or you to fight the fight while their sons and daughters and they sit at home planning ways to collaborate with the Thing that they said was so awful and such a threat two months before.

It really is up to the populace of this great nation, and Western Europe, to put a stop to invasion, whether physical, moral or theologically, to stand at the western gate of the Golden Horn and say, “You shall not pass.”

 

 

 

For Love of God and Country

If you’ve managed to open your eyes from a deep sleep for even a few seconds in the past month you are undoubtedly aware that there have been many thousands of “refugees” streaming into Europe from Middle Eastern countries; especially Syria. The leaders of Germany, Sweden, and for a while, France, have bent over backwards welcoming these poor benighted and overwhelming number of young men of military age. (Women and children, what number of them that there are and have been, seem to be decoys, mascots or shields) The result has been that rape has become so common in Sweden that they are number two, worldwide, for the number of rapes committed annually. And the vast majority of the rapes, of both men and women, are committed by “refugees” from the Middle East. But let’s face it, what young hot blooded Mohammedan can restrain himself because any young woman walking around in a pair of walking shorts with her white blonde hair flying in the wind is just a whore. The Imam says so. And besides, she’s an infidel; hardly a Christian let alone a Mohammedan.

In Germany, villages that had been made up for about 700 Germans have found themselves inundated by Syrian “refugees” by a ratio of two to one. In other words, 700 native Germans and 1400 Syrians. The result? Burglaries in a village where there had been none and the exclusion of the natives from public facilities that had been originally erected for the villages because the “refugees” need them.

France? Well, we’ve seen what’s happened in France; Jihad attacks, nightly fiestas of car burnings, places where the police are loath to go out of fear for their own safety.

But the most interesting thing is that the “refugees” are are almost all young men of military age. No grandmothers, no grandfathers, few women and fewer children. Those listed in the previous sentence were the traditional refugees in World War Two. The young men of fighting age were usually fighting (the exception being “intellectuals”and “artists”, that crowd is pretty useless when the rubber hits the road). What we have, some 70 years after the end of World War Two is a reversal the usual portrait of the refugee. The refugee is now a young man. And the refugee brings no good with him. He brings every bad thing about young men with him.

One find one’s self wondering why these young men don’t take up arms to defend their nation, their religion or their village instead of abandoning their nation and villages and families for an easy life of welfare among the Infidel. Thin of it seriously. Many of these men are leaving their wives and children behind in a place that they, themselves, call a war zone. They have left their families in, according to them, in danger. They are not like many immigrant men to these blessed shores who came to the US, worked hard for several years and then paid to have their wives and children brought into the US. This bunch of refugees, some of whom will come to the US, have no intention of bringing their families to the US. And they have no intention of being Americans, Germans, Swedes or Frenchmen. They’ll always be Syrians with a bitch. They’ll never fight for the country that was stupid enough to give them a home. And once they sucker some poor, stupid American or European woman to marry them abd bare their children those kids will be much more like their dear old Dad than like their mother’s father. They’ll be little Muslim constantly bitching and wanting and wanting and wanting. They won’t be Presbyterians wanting to get up by their own hook.

Thanks President Obama and Senator McCaine. Hope you live long enough to realize what you’ve planted.

 

Bart Is Rust

We here at Bloody Nib Manor have not spent a lot of time watching cartoons on television after we reached the age of marriage. Now, this is not to say that all cartoons are for children, but that, with few exceptions, most are pretty childish. And by childish, this writer means anarchic.  We, being respected and honored residents of the Shire have no use for anarchism. It’s disturbing for the help, the pigeons and the dogs, as well as ourselves.

Which, in a way, brings us to television cartoons.

The cartoons show on television which has been the flavor du all too many jours is The Simpsons. The Simpsons follows the post 1968 television formula for a show about a family that Mom is smart, the kids are smarter and that Dad is a complete moron. In fact, according to the standard formula, Dad is really not a Dad. He’s a sperm donor who just happens to live with the rest of the family and should probably, except for the paycheck that he brings home, live in a group home with the mentally deficient. The difference in The Simpson is that the lead character, Bart Simpson, is a complete and total brat who any self-respecting father or mother or neighbor would wear out their hairbrush or belt whacking this kid on his butt. He make Tom Sawyer look like a sissy boy and Huck Finn like a member of the local Rotarians.

Bart Simpson is an evil creation made by the unknowing. The popular assessment of the character by television, cultural, and academics is that Bart Simpson is great because he is “transgressive.” If transgressive means jerk brat, then Bart is so. But when the above mentioned eggheads talk transgressive they really mean transgressive against traditional American and European values. They would not approvingly describe Hitler as being trangressive, or even their employers giving them the pink slip because the employers wanted to be transgressive by making some money from them instead of having ride on the real work of others.

Bart Simpson is an anarchist. A societal anarchist. And this little yellow spike-headed creep has become a role model for children for all too-many years. So we have a snarky and just plain bratty generation who thinks that it’s all about them. They, and Bart, have no sense of the greater good, the society, or even the family. And while they are willing to put a spoke into your wheel or the wheel of culture, once you try to put the brakes on their nonsense you’re called a hater, intolerant, a reactionary and every multi-syllable insult they can think of (which aren’t many). The Simpsonists want to break down all fences just to break down fences without considering why those fences were put up. And all you are expected to do is chug down another Duff beer and say, “Duhhhhhh.”