". . . for the Gander"

You're watching TV and a white-skinned young woman  appears on the screen.  Her straight brown hair is flat about her head except for four or five 1-inch knobs of hair sticking out, and she has blackened her pretty face.  She wore the disguise, imitating some black guy who's an entertainer on a TV show, to a masquerade party.

You'd think that the guy being an entertainer would be grateful to the pretty young woman for the publicity.  But no, she's being sued for imitating his hairdo and black skin.  You think of black-skinned people who've been giggling, snarling, and rapping the "N" word at each other for years, but the moment a white-skinned person -- thinking that black people like the word -- uses the word he or she gets sued.

Then you think:  What if white-skinned people should begin suing non-white skinned people for imitating them by straightening their tight hair and dying it blond?  And what if the Spaniards, the English, the French, Portuguese, and Arabs start suing non-white skinned people for imitating their respective identities by using their names, languages, religions, and customs?  And these cowards who say:  "These political, economic, and military problems; these problems with drugs and violence and terrorists -- all problems must be put in God's hands."  What if their God decides to sue them for making IT responsible for problems that we humans created and run from?

"Good for the goose, good for the gander."

Slick "Stick"

Slick was "discovered" and notarized in notoriety when he was 12-years-old and arrested for shooting dice with men and women in an alley next to a poolhall in New York City.  Adulthood crowned him convincing several free-wheeling white entrepreneurs to squeeze out a crunch of movies about "po' blacks in slavery" that ended in the United States over a hundred years before he and any other blacks and whites in the United States were born.  Enough with the slavery-bit of over a century ago.  It's these ignorant, violent punks in the streets and schools of this 21st century who need to be focused on.

"Hell, Slick, with this Stick you're offering, we won't have to work another day in our life," the entrepreneurs had said.
"Yeah, and we know that some empty-headed nuts are gonna leave the movies wanting to tear up something and blame whites for all our faults, but that'll bring in more meek, weak, bleeding-hearts with more money to calm down the nuts -- who'll just act worse to get more money coming their way," Slick had replied.  He knew that bleeding-heart whites felt some strange slavery-"guilt" that they had excavated from even God didn't know where.  So they poured thousands of dollars into the entrepreneurs' and Slick's guiltburn (super heartburn), heartbreak-hotel, sucker-punch, mopish movies to atone for that strange slavery-guilt about dead slaves who in their over-a-hundred-year restfull dead-sleep neither knew nor cared about some strange slavery-"guilt" or anything else.  And Slick and the entrepreneurs, dressed in thousand-dollar suits, giving $100 dollar tips, cruised about New York City in chauffered limousines, laughing.

Lost and Found

Lord, give me patience.  "My fellow politicians, finally, I can announce --"
"Madam Chairwoman, the American people --"
"Madam Chairwoman, everybody's always  speaking for the American people, but saying different--"
Lord, have mercy.  "Sir, if you will allow me to finish, I --"
"Madam Chairwoman, you don't understand.  I speak for the Hispanics and the U.S.A.'s going to be Hispanic.  It's now --"
"Huh . . !  What'd he say . . ?"
"Call security, he's crazy . . ."
"-- it's now Anglo-Hispanic, but soon it'll be Hispanic-Anglo, then later Hispanic.  After that, Adiós goodby, hello hóla --"
"Madam Chairwoman, I represent the GHC -- Greater Hispanic Commuinity -- and we don't agree with the compañero --"

Please, Lord, stay with me.  "Ladies and gentlemen, I was about to announce that finally --"
"Madam Chairwoman,  I represent the Black Ghett-In and and we don't speak Spanish, so what's gonna happen to us when the Hispanics take over? We don't have no businesses like them and they gonna show favoritism when theyget in charge of food stamps and welfare checks and --"
"A poco you Blacks don't show favoritism -- everybody does it.  We speak Spanish and English and you're still stuck in English --"
"Madam Chairwoman, I represent Native Americans -- we were here first, so we should get first shot at anything being given --"
Lord, 'Not my will but thy will be done.'  "Ladies and gentlemen, I was about to announce that finally the SHUT DOWN is over and --"
"Then, Madam Chairwoman, we can take up the issue of putting prayer rugs and interpreters for us Muslims in all the schools and offices and public toilets throughout the country?"
"Madam Chairwoman, what about us Asians?"
Lord, forgive me.  "Any more of you Lost and Found out there want to astound us with your eloquence and wisdom . . . ?"

Who're These People?

One says:  "That's not me."  Another prompts:  "I'm so sorry if I caused harm to someone; it was a thing of the  moment, not the real me."  And another:  "If I was misunderstood, I apologize.  The people who know me know that I'm not like that.  I ask to be forgiven."  And on and on they come at us.

What about these illiterates throughout the world starving in squalor and disease and killing each other in a worthless subculture that fills them with feelings of inferiority and self-hate, drugs and alcohol?  What are they doing in the 21st century to throw off their crippling subculture?  The same thing they were doing in the 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, and 20th centries.  Blaming others for not weeping for them.

"The American People dahdah-dah,  dahdah-dah, dahdah-dah . . ." we hear from Mr. and Mrs. Know-All-Americans.  There are over three-hundred million American people; does any Mr. or Mrs. Know-All-Americans personally know a million of these Americans?  Know a hundred thousand?  Know even a thousand?  If not, then what American people is he or she talking about when foaming at the mouth with "The American people . . ."? 

Millions of these American people can't even speak English, except when demanding their "rights" they -- like parasites -- haven't earned.  So how could they have told Mr. and Mrs. Know-All-Americans their political views or to speak for them?  Could Mr. and Mrs. Know-All-Americans be speaking for only a faction of American People?  Wouldn't it be more exact for them to say:  "Some American people dahdah-dah, dahdah-dah, dahdah-dah . . .."  Then, perhaps, our governmenrt might not SHUT DOWN again.

Discriminate! Discriminate! Discriminate!

Simple minds like simple things.  Does that exclude simple-minded people from having standards?  What about IT, called God or Jehova or Buddha or Allah or Olórún -- and many other names?  Does our respective IT have standards?  Do we think our IT would like to always listen to Kooky Wooky playing "Doody Woody" or prefer a little Chopin from time to time?  Does our IT demand that we humans observe certain standards of conduct?  Would our IT bless a Moses of the Israelites rather than a Hitler of the Nazis?

Would our IT accept ignorant mobs that tramp through the streets yelling, "Kill all Jews and Americans . . !" ?  What about these people who weep, moan, and cry crocodile tears, "Theys 'scriminating ''ginst us 'cause of our color . . . ."  Okay, Mr. and Mrs. smarty britches, suppose we were all the same color; would that be the end of discrimination against you?  Don't you think an IT could find some imperfection in you?

What about these people in Chicago and other cities always whining about the need for more police protection?  Would our respective IT say:  "Police and guns aren't producing these shooters; the shooters come primarily from people stagnating in low subcultures in communities with endless churches and cathedrals.  But you never hear a preacher or priest or ethnic 'leader' or politician say that the 'culture' producing these gangs and shooters needs to be updated."  Would our respective IT promote or accept followers who constantly produce perpetrators of indiscriminate violence?  If not, can we -- as mere mortals -- do less?

Butch Cassidy And Sundance

Butch Cassidy and the Sudance Kid epitomize that hard-nosed, tenacious "stick-to-itness" togetherness -- come what may -- yet unswerving loyalty to rugged individualism that characterized the first whites landing on these shores in the 15th and 16th centuries.  Butch Cassidy and Sundance represent a culture when gunmen "shot it out" with other men who also had guns.

They didn't walk into schools and start killing unarmed, helpless men, women, and children; they didn't walk into a theater and start killing unarmed, helpless men, women, and children watching a movie; they didn't shoot into crowds of unarmed, helpless men, women, and children and kill them in "ride-by" shootings.

They didn't ride down a street and see a lone man jogging and shoot him in the back, killing him.  They didn't ride into a Navy Yard in Washington, D.C. and start firing bullets at unarmed, helpless men and women.

Butch Cassidy and Sundance didn't hide behind: "Somebody hurt my feelings, so I'm gonna get even with them.  I'm gonna start killing people."  Butch Cassidy and Sundance were real men.

Arabs And "Blacks"

We start with the Arabs because everyone who can read should know that centuries and centuries ago it was Arabs who went into Afrika and not Afrikans who went into Arabic countries.  The Arabs kicked butt and enslaved in Afrika and soon Afrikans were taking Arab identities and accepting Islam as their religion.  We mention this because these race-hustlers are constantly hustling European people for enslaving blacks, but they never hustle Arabs for the enslavement of blacks.

This centuries-old contact between Arabs and blacks is so prevalent today because Arab countries are daily in the news; and we see -- after "blacks" have had these Arab identities in Arab countries for centuries -- a discrepancy screaming for attention.

We  have a black president of the United States -- the most powerful nation in the world, but we never see a black face among the officials ruling in the arena of politics and the economy in any Arabic country.  In fact, we never see blacks among the Arab masses, although we know that they've been in these Arabic countries for centuries.  And we strongly suspect -- from experience with those in the United States -- that they might not even identify as black people.  Now, is anyone so naive that he or she doesn't know that the Arabs' view of blacks -- and there's much evidence to support it -- extends to a black president of the United States?  Or is it "politically incorrect" to ask that?

The Talk-Show Twist

Even though we try to hide "racial" behind and beneath that word "random" in referring to a beating or killing, it peeps its head above it, blaring "black" and "white."  We need to deal with it from that perspective, but we're afraid of acerbating our supersenstive feelings surrounding it.

There are many countries in this Western Hemisphere where the people have such fear of the word "racial" that they try to present their population as monoracial, although it's made up of Indians, mestizos, blacks, and whites.  As if not knowing whether we're looking at a black or white or Indian or mestizo weren't troubling enough we're also confronted with "hate," the other inescapably damning word, attaching itself to our trembling mind.

With our teeth chattering nervously we whisper:  "Please, God, don't let the official say that 'racial hate' had anything to do with this crime . . . ."  And the official solemnly proclaims:  "This was not a hate crime, 'racial hate' had nothing to do with it."  And we whimper:  "Thank the Lord."  But deep within us a voice moans:  "Why even blacks killing blacks screams with 'racial hate,' self-hate spiraling out of control while clinging to a European identity; and attempting to camouflage the hypocrisy with show-bizness marches and whining on talk-shows to get their pictures on TV they still -- after over a hundred years -- attribute their problems to whites.  They liken it to the tale of A Talk-Show Twist:
                                                        
                                                          The Talk-Show Twist
                                                          Isn't done with the wrist
                                                         And steady beat of feet
                                                         Or a pip of a hip
                                                         But with a quip from the lip.

Shooting In Duncan, Okla.

"Believe It Or Not." as Ripley would say, there are people taught to be rude.  The image of these people is so strong that one hears "There goes the neighborhood" the moment one moves into a community where people don't think that rude is cool.

The rude-is-cool belief exists by commission or ommission in one-dimensional -- crude, rude -- neighborhoods where many mothers and fathers are loud and vulgar-mouthed around their children who grow up imitating them a nd passing this ignorant conduct on to other children.  We encounter them in schools, on school buses, public buses, in stores -- in fact, wherever we go because they believe that being rude is cool, that it gets them noticed, but only if they're more rude than the one trying to get noticed by being rude to them.

Sometimes some of these people can be so ignorant, existing in a state between low intelligence and no intelligence that they'll take a gun, get in a car and see a young athlete jogging down the street -- maybe even in a small Oklahoma town -- and they'll shoot him in the back, killing him.  That's what can happen when rude is cool leads a fool.

Missouri Fun Et Al

A crowd gathered at the picture someone posted on a telephone pole in a Missouri town.  One man walked away laughing.  Another man looked at him, frowned and said:  "You think that picture's funny?"
"That's what it was meant to be."
"It's insulting."
"You're too thin skinned."
"It's racist -- reminds me of that white clown pretending to be President Obama at that rodeo in another Missouri town where, obviously, they weren't all from Missouri."
"It's not racist -- and I should know, I drew it."
"Well, I'm white and I say it's racist."
"Well, I'm black and if it was a black man flying through the air I'd still think it was funny."
"You think that the picture of a white man crossing the street on crutches and getting hit by a car driven by a black man -- smiling -- is funny and not racist?"
"Yes I do -- and so would anybody who likes fun."
"Well, with fun like that you'd better be careful we don't all die laughing.  In fact, with so much anti-Americanism going around these days it's bad timing to promote hypocrisy about racism and divisionism within our borders.  Doesn't mean we all have to love each other -- 'have a nice day'."

To Quote Jack Nicholson

"You can't handle the truth!" he flung at Tom Cruz in that famous scene.  Can we -- in the 21st century -- still not handle the truth (relative though it may be)?  What about "nothing worthwhile can be built on a false foundation"?  That's been around even long before movies.  We see proof of it each time some race-hustler rants his or her jibberish that "blacks  are committing violence 'cause they need jobs!"

That picture on TV just last week of three 15-year-old "blacks" punching and stomping a lone white youth was proof that they were trying to kill  him because they "needed jobs."  Yeah, right.  That lone white youth denied the three of them what job?  Can't that savage violence of those three "blacks" be multiplied in "black" communities all across this nation?

Haven't thousands of "blacks" on that subcultural "foundation" been graduating with business degrees from colleges and universities year after year for decades, but haven't created three jobs?  "Black" youths of every generation grow up seeing people of different ethnic groups building and producing in their respective communities, but they see nothing similar occurring in "black" communities.

A thousand dollars to a doughnut that more intelligent conversations go on between parents and their children in Jewish homes and between Anglo parents and their children than between parents and children stagnating with a subcultural "foundation".

Blacks And Oprah's Purse

Isn't it presumptuous to think that every clerk in every store in the entire world knows Oprah from any other black woman?  The stylish white clerk looks toward the door as Oprah enters.  The store sells purses, some for $38,000.  The clerk thinks:  Pictures are always being shown of blacks rushing in, smashing showcases, snatching expensive goods and rushing out . . . I'd better be careful, never saw one even look through the show window before, let alone come in . . . "Yes . . ?" the clerk asks Oprah.

"I'd like to see that purse over there," Oprah says.

She might have an iron pipe in her coat pocket, the clerk thinks.  Gonna hit me, then snatch the purse and run.  She might even have a gun.  "Uh . . . the red one . . ?"
"Yes.."
"That one's rather expensive -- $38,000 -- maybe you'd like one less expensive . . ?"  Gotta stall her, maybe someone else will come in.

Isn't it logical that the clerk should think these thoughts?  How many blacks do we believe have gone into that store to buy a $38,000 purse?  And aren't blacks continuing to stream from black communties into white communities for safety -- and are all over TV shows whining about the violence of blacks?

Let's try putting ourselves in that white clerk's place in that luxurious store and a black comes in-- mama mia!

Part-Time Race Hustlers

Part-Time Teachers, Part-Time Lovers -- even Part-Time Race Hustlers -- must be proficient toilers in order to maintain their place in the job market.  Just when we thought we'd resolved their pet peeve, "racism," here they come again.

"We're together!" we've heard after we -- white, black, brown, red, and yellow -- have run to the scene of some disaster and "pitched in" with little regard for our safety, peering through smoke and flames, listening, hoping for any cry -- no matteer how feint -- for help.

But, now, for the past two or three weeks we've had people running and marching in our streets.  "We must have conferences on this racism against black men and their violence that keeps us racing to live in white communities where we feel safer than in black communities; we must stop this injustice of jailing black men for violence."  HUH!!!  These people are all over TV programs "running their jibs" like babies whimpering for the atttention of their mamas and daddies:  "Racism against us black people -- boo hoo hoo . . ."

"But, children, mama and daddy try to give you whatever you want, try to keep you happy," the people they're whimpering to say, trying to appease them, to sooth them.
"No, you like them other people more'n you like us, boo hoo hoo . . ."
"But listen, our little tutti-fruities, haven't we -- for decades -- been buying all of your little kindergarten rap-ditties that you call music . . ."
"But y'all like them other people 'cause you find other cultures interesting and they got a different culture and we got the same culture as you . . ."
"Now, remember, our little chickidees, over fifty years ago a movement was brought  to you with fire, bullets, and blood -- it was heard all over the world -- to return you to the legitimate identity of your Afrikan ancestors, but you rejected it, preferring to remain our carbon-copies, and, remembe, the people you're talking about represent a large market in our economy."
"Then y'all still love us?"
"Of course we do."  Who else would have you, they whispered.

So remember, people, from time to time Part-time Race Hustlers will get jealous for attention and will start crying "racism."  All one has to do is to start singing "Part-time Hustlers" and they'll shut their "jibs."

"SPARE ME, some mumbled

President Obama said in his speech, 7-19-13, speaking of black youths and their attitude toward race: " . . . they're better than we were on these issues.  And that's true every community that I've visited all across the country."

"What!  These low-down, shallow, ignorant, hypocritical snots!"  That was what the refugee from the "shootin' 'n' 'lootin' " 1960s said back to the TV.  He had watched programs on TV all that morning, hearing "black" leaders and "activists" express concern over black men committing violence and being "unjustly" sent to jails and prisons.  Now he stood tall, broad-shouldered behind a podium, his dark eyes flashing at over a thousand people.  He told them to look within themselves and ask if they believed that all people could lie, steal, rob, rape, murder -- could do wrong; would they consider themselves civilized or intelligent if they charged into stores and threw merchandise from shelves to the floor, then chose whatever they wanted and walked out with it?  Wouldn't they feel that they must have created some negative image that cause women to grip their purses and people to click the locks on their car doors when they, as black men, passed near?  Would they feel that they were better at handling issues involving blacks if t hey took a word that was used to disparage blacks, changed the "er" ending to "a," -- the sound of the word remaining the same -- and went rapping it all over the world just to make a buck?

"Wouldn't you think that you must have been blatant with your 'boosting' in stores to support your alcohol and druge addiction for a store clerk to follow you about when you entered a store?  If you were civilized wouldn't you know that you were wrong when you did 'drive-by' shootings into crowdes, killing innocent men, women, and children?  Are you so dense that you don't know that you're not going to the core of the problem when after fifty years your 'leaders' and 'activists' are calling on you for more marching and conferences to attack a justice system that they claim is rigged against black men causing violence.

" 'These black men are violent because they need jobs,' the same centuries-old crutch your 'leaders' and 'activists' spout.  Okay, what job skills do you have?  What is your education level?  Weekly we see documentary films from  prisons of black men acting like emotional children, out of  control.  Have you ever thought of looking at that mess you call black culture, that keeps you honoring sports over education . . . ."

He said these things to them that day and many left mumbling sarcastically, "Spare me, please . . . ."

Style, Poise, And Grace

For one heartfelt, shining, fullfilling moment there was no sight or thought of millions of half-naked, dirty, hungry, diseased, illiterate, bulging bellied, empty-eyed beggers coming to us on the screen; there was no barbaric whooping hollering of multitudes of rag-tag natives slapping native drums, thrusting Stone Aged spears and clubs and flat, bare, dirty feet at the sky as they turned flips celebrating who knows what or what anybody but they themselves cared about.

No where were there scenes of apolitical, unruly hordes racing, walking -- hungry and dying of thirst -- crossing a blistering hot desert to climb a dauntingly high foreboding wooden fence to escape into the United States from the social struggle in  their countries; no scenes of tunnels discovered where they crawled beneath the frontier that separated them from cheap-labor jobs in the United States, leaving their people struggling alone to change their jobless, corrupt, narcotrafficking societies.

Their were no smoking, burning, bleeding bodies of men, women, and children weeping and staggering and dying in war-torn, smoldering streets with bombed-out houses, mosques, cars and buses and trains by angry, hate-filled terrorists.

For one heartfelt, shining, fullfilling, peaceful moment on this earth, millions of us throughout the world had our eyes, mind, and heart anticipating the opening of two doors at a hospital in England to introduce to the world a man and a woman with a newborn child, a child king, innocent and pure; and the doors opened and the man and woman stepped out with the child wrapped in small blankets, and they did it with style, smooth smiles, and poise and grace befitting the culture of their race.

Fudging Jurors?

Where do we come from as jurors?  We certainly don't come from the moon.  The moon is made of cheese, and eating all that cheese we'd be too constipated and too uncomfortable to think clearly.  Do we come from the racist countries in this Hemisphere where "blacks" were enslaved and "blacks" have been made afraid to talk about racism?

We come from the U.S.A. where over a 150 years ago more than a million lives were brutally slaughtered in a hate-spewing war against slavery, and racism has always been openly discussed; where, on city buses and all forms of public transportation, we're still -- in the 21st century -- so conscious of each other's racial differences and racial views that "blacks" try to avoid sitting beside anyone who looks white, Asian, or Hispanic; anyone who looks white, Asian, or Hispanic trys to avoid sitting beside anyone who looks "black."  And deciding whom we want or not want to sit beside -- for whatever reason -- is our right.

But the moment we -- as whites, blacks, Asians, Hispanics, or any creature resembling a Homo Sapien -- are called to sit on a jury thoughts on race -- even the very word "race" -- miraculously vanishes from our mind and we say, "Oh, race was not a factor in this trial.  I don't see race or color.  I just see humans."

Yeah, right.  And, of course, there has never been a racist thought in any of us anywhere on this earth, especially in Florida.

Europeans and Arabs

Europeans and Arabs, adventurous warriors, for centuries swooped into foreign lands conquering and colonizing.  And thanks to them, millions  upon millions of people exist today -- and have families -- that would not have walked this planet revolving in space.

We hear "black" this and "Hispanic" that from some of these people on this planet, but do these people ever consider that they wouldn't even have a name or a language or a religion were it not for Europeans (whites) and Arabs?  We are told by "blacks" that there is a "black" culture, but where is it?  Placing the word "black" before features taken from the culture of whites ("black" English, "black" Christmas, "black"
Christianity, etc.) creates nothing but an inferior carbon-copy culture, known primarily for producing basketball and football players, but no Nobel Prize winners in science, medicine, chemistry,technology.

Do "blacks" in "Hispanic" countries call themselves "Hispanics"?  They are not off-springs of Conquistadores and Indian women.  We consider this because the uproar over the recent trial of George Zimmerman has provoked a national discussion about "race in America."  There is no Hispanic race, so which of the five races, white, black, red, yellow, and brown, do the "Hispanics", looking like Indians, Afrikans, and Asians, in the Americas belong to?  Do the Chiapanecos in Chiapas, Mexico call themselves "Hispanics?"

Once we know which race people identify with and why, we'll know what it takes to communicate with them or to silence them and end this running racial conflict.  Most people in these sub-racial, Stone Age, confusing, subcultures live in a state between low-intelligence and no-intelligence. 

Luck of the Draw?

These two voices were heard from a cloud over Sanford, Florida, then floated all over the world.

"Hey, they look different from each other," one said.  "Their hair is different; the color of their skin is different; some, especially the women of a certain color, have body-parts more symmetrical than women of other colors . . ."

"And haven't you read that some have a history of bows and arrows and others are associated with spears and knives; and still others have a history of pulling the trigger on long tubes and fireworks come out of one end and people fall over."

"Yeah, and haven't you noticed that those of the same color generally 'hang out' together, though they often turn on each other, going to war, killing each other?"

"Yes, and many -- looking alike -- and warring and killing each other with bows and arrows and spears and knives got Jap-slapped by some guys -- looking alike -- with those barrels causing fireworks and bodies falling . . ."

"Yeah, and the people with bows and arrows and spears and knives screamed:  'Hey, boss, give us some of dem thundering barrels and we give you some of us for slaves."

"And now there's this kid who just got killed by that guy who doesn't look like him and everybody recognizes that difference . . ."

"And these two guys involved in this case represent two groups that have been in conflict for centuries."

"And there're people charging that the difference in color of these two guys -- the man and the unarmed kid he shot and killed -- is noticed only because some left-leaning people pointed it out."

"And all these news commenters grinning and and laughing -- and getting wealthy discussing . . ."

"By the way, one commentator said: 'The man didn't mean to kill the kid when he shot him.'  The woman who said this was grinning, her God-given woolen hair hidden under a lank-haired wig.  In other words the man just shot the kid in the heart to scare him.  How'd you like to have her for a juror?"

"I guess it's the luck of the draw."

GR-r-r-r-r-r

Take for example a police officer was driving down this side street and saw these two guys punching and kicking the hell out of each other.  He screeched  his patrol car to a stop, grabbed his club, jumped from the car, and when he was a foot from the guys he blew his whistle near their heads and they jumped around, both growling:  "GR-r-r-r-r. . ."

"Why'd you do that?" the one nearest to the officer asked.
"To stop you guys from 'going at it'," the officer said.
"We weren't 'going at it'," the other guy said.  "In our culture that's the way we discuss things."
"But don't you people have laws?" the officer asked.
"We don't use laws -- dead words -- to try to hide what is in our hearts and minds," the nearest one said.  "Deep down in us, anger and hatred drives us to grind our teeth in joy at the thought of seeing our enemies' bodies -- men, women, and children -- flying through the air from exploding buildings and planes and trains and houses and palaces and castles and villages and towns and nations and the world -- even if it means self-destructing with them --!"
"That's nuts," the officer said.
"We can discuss it," the man nearest to him boasted and threw a straight right-hand at the officer's jaw, but the officer ducked and kicked the man's legs from under him and popped the man's head with his club as he was falling to the ground.
"Me no discuss," the other man said, backing up.

The other, lying in the dirt, looked up, giggled, and said, "Peace, brother . . ."

SNOWDEN SNOWED?

Has Snowden -- endangering the lives of Americans -- thinking he's accomplished some great praise-worthy service for mankind by sticking his snout out with security information helpful to our enemies snowed himself?

Won't the masses throughout the world -- who always have and always will -- continue to befriend any befuddled, bloody bloc boasting a bigger better bowl of beans and bottle of beer?

And won't the sun go on sharing its rays with country after country, century after century millenniums following Snowden and his cesspool of "a day late and a dollar short"-fellow terrorist conspirators have been introduced to "Up Against The Wall!"?

a la STILETTO

Spectators filled every seat in the courtroom, and the Judge slowly turned pages in the defendent's file.  The defendent, a middle-aged woman with wheat-colored hair and wearing a short-sleeved gray blouse and blue slacks jumped up, knocking her chair over backwards.

"Officer, restrain the defendent!" the Judge called out.

The defendent, wearing black patent-lethered shoes with three-inch stiletto heels, snatched the shoe from her right foot, drew it back, as if preparing to throw a fast ball, and yelled, "Don't you come near me -- I plead guilty with an explanation, Your Honor . . ."

The officer, a tall, muscular crew-cut blond, looked at the Judge who waved him off.  "Let's hear it," the Judge said.

"Your Honor, I used that word that I'm accused of, but -- God is my witness -- those people, themselves, young and old, use it loud all over the place.  On buses, in the streets, schools, stores, and nobody says anything to them about it.  But let a white person say it and they start screaming and hollering.  Some of these rappers have been saying it world-wide in their kindergarten-rhymes for decades, but nobody has brought a lawsuit against them.  And do we dare say that there are no racial pejoratives used against whites or people of other races or ethnic groups?  Your Honor, down South we don't 'hem and haw' -- we bring it straight up, 'it is what it is.'  Like most Americans I'm out every day trying to make an honest living, so you can believe me when I say that I'm not a racist, but I do despise self-righteous race-hustlers, and . . ."

"Case dismissed!" the Judge thundered, and the spectators roared, clapping and cheering.

CHUR-CAGO

He stood at the bus-stop in Los Angeles that night staring at the man about 20 feet from him and he squeezed the gun in the black briefcase that he held at his side.  No other people were around.  He wondered whether he could bring the briefcase up and the gun out before the man made a threatening move.

The man took short steps back and  forth, constantly glancing over at him, then suddenly the man came toward him so quickly that the element of surprise gave the man the advantage.  The man's empty hands came up, palms out, as if he were obeying the order of a policeman.  "I come in peace," the man said.

"You had me nervous," the other replied.
"Being alone in the dark with another black had me thinking about blacks killing each other this past weekend in Chicago," the man said.
"Oh, Chur-cago," the other declared.  "It could happen just as easily here in Chur-L.A. or Chur-D.C. or any black community."
"What's this 'Chur?' "
"Churches . . . we've got so many in our black communities, yet we've got all this self-hate and violence and so-called 'black' culture . . ."
"Somebody's lying in some of these black churches . . ."
"And I wonder -- with so many Muslims rioting, burning, killing, and destroying all over the place -- does FREEDOM OF SPEECH allow us to say that somebody's lying in some of these mosques, too? -- Give everybody equal time."

WHITE MINORITY?

Hold up -- not so fast on the "white minority-bit."  What about this business of "whites who are not Hispanic?"  Aren't people who call themselves "Hispanics" identifying as Spaniards, with Spain?  Haven't we heard some Mexicans refer to Spain as la madre patria (the mother country)?

Spaniards -- like Italians, French, and Portuguese -- are called Latins, but they are of the Caucasian race, white.  There is no Latin or Spanish or Italian or French or Portuguese race.  There is the Caucasian race, the white race -- and there's only one.  So what is this business about "whites who are not Hispanic?"  One is either white or one isn't.

Granted, there're millions of people looking like Indians and Afrikans but calling themselves Latins -- and that gives them a "white" identity.  But when we look at the people on Latin TV shows and in movies, newspapers, and magazines we don't see any Indian-looking or Afrikan-looking people; we see only people resembling Europeans, whites -- and that tells us that there's a whitening process at work.

So the propaganda might be that white people will soon be outnumbered by the minorities, but reality is that the minorities are disappearing into white -- increasing the white population.  And thank God that some whites came outta those caves and created a powerful cutlture.  Otherwise we'd still be living in grass huts and tepees.

A Little Stealing

The police officer was sent to the home to resolve a domestic dispute.  The officer sat with the three people in the dispute at a round kitchen table.  "So she's your wife and you're accusing her of wanting to steal?" the officer asked the husband.
"It's a small matter," the wife spoke up before her husband could answer.
"But stealing is against the law," the officer said.
"I want her to be black -- that's why I married her," the husband said.
"I told him that I'm 'dentified as black on foodstamp records and if he and I separate it's gonna be confusion if I go down there saying um white.  I jes wanna steal a little white 'cause he's white and if we s'pose to be united as one 'cause he's my husband --"
"Me too."
The officer blinked.  "You're her husband, too?"
"No, um her brother, and his brother-in-law, so um family and wanna be jes lak they is --"
"See, officer, how they speak English -- just like uneducated slaves did.  I think it's so quaint -- I just love it.  Makes me feel like I'm helping slaves . . . and the way they talk is contagious."
The officer stared at the husband.  "Are you okay?" he asked him.
"Of course," the husband said.
"You don't hear people in cotton fields singing 'Kumbaya' as cotton sacks float toward heaven playing violins, do you?"
"Of course not."
"One more question.  He hesitated.  "How do you identify yourself?"
"Oh, I'm white, but --"
"Thank God," the officer said.  For a minute I thought I was all alone here."
" -- but at this moment I wanna start this New Year right.  I'm now thinking --"
"Oh, Lord, here we go," the officer said, throwing his head back, rolling his eyes upwards.
" -- I'm now thinking, just to keep up, I might need to steal a little 'black.' ''
The officer threw his head back again, rolling his eyes upward, thinking, I'll retire in 3 months -- "Listen," he said, "Why don't ya'll think this over for about 3 months, then get back to me."
"Okay," the husband, wife, and brother-in-law said in unison.
Have mercy on us, Lord, the officer thought, whomever -- or whoever -- we is . . . .