With Whom You Stand?

" . . . the United States stands in solidarity with the French . . . ." they try to look serious and solemnly proclaim.

Do the actions and pronouncements of those and their supporters who prance through our streets shouting 'Kill the police' stand more in solidarity with the French or with the lying, murdering Muslim terrorists!!!"

"Maybe . . . keep it to yourself?"

"Does it seem to you that these pictures of confrontations between white police and Afrikan Americans never show the very beginning of the confrontation, that we're given the word of a person portrayed as a victim in the confrontation or  an 'impeccable' witness to the confrontation?"
"I've wondered about that."
"Everywhere I turn some idiots asking me, 'ain you joining the protests!' "
"I can understand why one would tire of hearing the same ol' whining, generations of it.  And it's always so lopsided.  The white police are always 'guilty,' the Afrikan Americans are always 'innocent'.  Now,  how in the hell can anyone with a brain not see that something's wrong with that picture?  It's like a formula.  The moment you hear of a confrontation between a white policeman and an Afrikan American you think 'Here we go again.' "
"You'd think that after generations of this whining Afrikan Americans have to be pretty stupid to have not figured out that they need to do something differently.  Unless they believe it's profitable being considered a 'victim.' "

"I've asked myself  'Wouldn't  people who like being considered a victim be full of self-hate and be masochistic and deliberately -- maybe even subconsciously -- provoke someone to hurt them?'  And think about this, before the news of the confrontation is a minute old Afrikan Americans are already in the streets yelling and threatening violence with 'No justice no peace' -- and not just in the town where the confrontation occurred but in other cities where protesters have no idea what happened.  And check this out.  Afrikan Americans can't claim that this is happening to us because we're black.  There're hundreds of thousands of blacks from all over the world living here, but they're not having these confrontations.  Somebody's deliberately keeping something from us about these confrontations."
"I'm washing my hands of blacks.  It's a waste of time to care what happens to them because as a race they're going to disappear from the Earth.  They have no culture to protect them from self-hate, and only a bold few have made a limited effort to create one.  That's why they -- blacks throughout the world -- have been trying to disappear into the identities of people who don't identify as black.  Am I right or am I right?"
"Maybe better to keep it to yourself?"

Bloody Thursday

"We was on all the TV channels all night -- hold it right there.  That's me.  I had just turned to the camera and shouted for the killing of police and after that all that shooting started and Lawdy we wuz jes like a field of scared rabbits, running and screaming in all directions --"
"Like subhumans."
" 'Sub humans?'  Whats that?"
"People in the 21st century who're still not civilized."
"Um as civilized as you and anybody and um exercising my right to free speech . . ."
"What organization do you represent?"
"I represent Jes We and we on college campuses and always being interviewed and wrote about 'cause we 'bout disturbing the peace disrupting --"
"Causing chaos like the terrorists?"
"We ain't no terrorists, and if we is so is them preachers and politicians and lawyers and teachers and others who's  always defending us on TV and radio talk-shows 'cause  they want our support and votes . . ."

"Oh, you're in politics . . . what's your Party?"
"That's none of your business, so I'll jes say that Jes We is for the minority people and I b'lieve you're smart enough to figure out what that Party is."
"And the wounding and murdering of those policemen last night, after you called for the killing of policemen, do you take any responsibility for that?"
"That was jes a moment when my feelings got provoked . . ."
"Thank you, Miss.  Ladies and gentlemen you've just heard an interview with a woman who's hands are dripping with the blood of every police officer wounded or murdered last night as surely as if she had stood over them with a gun and pulled the trigger.  Each time she and her cohorts, the preachers, politicians, lawyers, teachers, and all who support Jes We, look in a mirror their faces will be smeared with the blood of those police officers.  Their hearts will sweat blood each time that they think of the wife or sweetheart or small girl or boy left sobbing because one of those police officers was a husband or boyfriend or father.  And I say to the police officers throughout our nation refuse to go the next time you receive a call to stop a domestic altercation between a husband and wife or boyfriend and girlfriend in a community filled with ignorant, subhuman fools of that Jes We crowd and their suporters.  Let them send each other to hell where they belong.  The death of a 1000 ignorant subhuman fools isn't worth the death of one police officer!"

Woof Woof Bow Wow

A man sat with his poodle on the lawn at the front of his house in Washington, D. C,  He had taught the poodle to bark English and he'd learned to bark dog talk.  "Four Legs," the man said, "I don't know how you feel about it, but I'm still mad as hell about all these guns in society . . . guns killed my son."
"Oh, they've got guns now, Two Legs, that pull their own trigger?"
"Asking questions like that doesn't help our cause.  We just need an opportunity to bark against guns."  "How do you plan to do that, Two Legs?"
"I've been thinking about this, Four Legs, all the time these babies, teenagers, and adults have been getting killed month after month after month --"
"I've been wondering when you two-legged animals were gonna do something -- at least say something about that instead of always calling other people racists and depending on the people you call racists to solve your problems."

"I kept wondering when our so-called leaders who're always provoking our people to riot were gonna denounce the killings, especially in Chicago . . . I want revenge for the death of my son . . ."
"But, Two Legs, you're just one person and that's like an old stray dog that only barks when an occasional car drives by."
"Right, Four Legs . . . now, since you're smart and can bark in English you're respected by everybody.  So,this being election year for a President and one of these presidential candidates wants to be known for having taken away guns, this is the ideal time to get rid of these guns . . . this candidate will be grateful  to work with us on this . . ."
"So how're you gonna work it, Two Legs?"
"I want you to get all of your friends together and we're going to Congress and start barking -- and we're going to bark day and night until we get rid of guns . . . we're never gonna have another opportunity like this.  It's gonna be just like in the sixties again, disrupting Congress -- we might even start barking 'We shall overcome' -- my God, it gives me chills and I know some preachers and so-called leaders who'll pay us to let them bark with us."
"Do you think this comfortable sacrifice might insult the movement of the sixties?"
"Listen, Four Legs, every time we woof woof and bow wow we legitimize what we are and what we represent, so we have no alternative, woofing and bow wowing is our nature . . . woof woof bow wow . . ."

What If

"It's just a thought," I said to him.
"Come on with the come on, bring it," he urged.
"This guy was talking to me about the play-offs that just ended a few days ago --"
"Don't keep me wondering, just bring it."
"Cleveland was two games behind and this guy was complaining that people were always bragging about this top gun on the Cleveland team being so hot and that b.s., but the dude wasn't living up to his rep and G S was taking it to'em and on the way to winning another Championship . . ."
"I still don't know what -- what're you getting at?"
"Well, it got to 3 and 1 and he was boasting, 'It is done, cut out the lights the party's over' and then it got to 3 and 2, Cleveland on a run, and he started frowning and saying things like, 'I thought surely they would choke, down 3 - 1, and now it's 3 - 2, I better put a little change on Cleveland' . . ."

"I still don't understand your point, what're you trying to say?"
"The next thing we knew, it was 3 - 3 and he's got more money on Cleveland than on G S, the team he claimed to be supporting at the beginning.  So, it's just like some of these politicians who started out spouting Red, White, and Blue and supporting the 'American way' and Americans and now they're expressing their scorn for politicians and any Americans who say that we're threatened by Muslim terrorists.  They say that these Americans who say we're at war with the terrorists are persecuting the Muslim religion and that our country guarantees -- was founded on freedom of religion.  They would have us believe that they know more about Islam than the Muslim terrorists who were raised in Islam and kill in the name of Islam . . ."
"I still don't see what you're trying to say."

"What if they're just like that guy who started out favoring the  G S team, but when he saw that the Cleveland team started taking it to the G S team he started favoring Cleveland.  What if these politicians and people who won't even say the name 'Muslim terrorists' and want to allow thousands of Muslims, including terrorists who want to kill Americans, to flood into our country, believe in their minds and hearts that the Muslim terrorist ideology is spreading everywhere?  What if they want to be able to say to the terrorists: 'You are here now and more of you are coming, so look out for us, spare us because we spoke up for you.  When they tried to pin a killing or massacre on you we demanded that they call it work-place violence or we argued that guns kill, not humans, or we found some other excuse to take the heat off of you, so spare us.' "

What We're Really Hearing

"If we're not dealing with some kind of emotional conspiratorial entanglement dating back to your formative years in one of their schools, why won't you say the name?"
"You better be careful you're crossing a line that threatens the unique legacy I've earned to be remembered as the greatest ruler that this country has ever had."
"So what else is not new?  But back to the point.  As you have said, that name is not important, is insignificant, meaningless in the defense of anyone and our country, and in overcoming the enemy, so why won't you say it?"

"Because you're also including the good ones too who're not cutting off people's heads, burning people alive, enslaving women . . ."
"Oh, the good ones who murder their daughters in 'honor killings', don't allow their daughters to go to school . . ."
"Now you're obfuscating the issue --"

"No, you are; every time we mention these atrocities they're committing you hurl at us that Christians enslaved blacks over a hundred years ago, as if their countrymen hadn't been selling them to anyone who wanted to buy them for brute labor, including the thousands of people chanting in their streets for the death of Americans.  You ignore the emphasis that people place on their culture or heritage, coming together when they feel that they and their heritage are threatened; as if we were wrong to have looked suspiciously at all Japanese after they had evilly, treacherously, attacked us or that it was wrong for us to be aware of the Germans among us when the Nazis were trying to take over the world or that we were wrong for fighting in Korea and Vietnam when the communists were trying to take over the world.  Just the other day you brought this reference up to the Christians again and it always comes across as a blatant attempt by you and your cohorts to justify the evil of these terrorists who identify as Muslims . . . ."

Hello! You Open-Border Lovers!

You idiots, you ignoramuses!  Do you also call this slaughter "work place violence."  Can you now bear to utter the words 'Muslim terrorists"?  Can you and your ignorant supporters go on running your ignorant mouths about how you're against building walls to keep unwanted people out, about how you must allow all people to come in because that is who we are?  Do you feel any blood on your hands when some Muslim terrorist massacres 50 Americans?  Will you go on putting in public offices these mealy-mouthed fools who will allow anyone to come across our borders, legal or illegal, as long as they can vote for people who want open borders?

How many more do they have plans to slaughter?  Don't they openly tell the world that they're gonna kill Americans and you and your worthless supporters want voters to put people like you in public offices?  What in the hell difference does it make whether a shooter is a card-carrying member of a Muslim terrorist group or not?  If he or she carries out the violence of a terrorist a terrorist is in agreement with the violence and the victims are just as dead!

All the violence of rioting and looting and calling for police to be killed, even screaming on TV -- to the applause and cheers of hoodlums and thugs -- to "burn the country down", and slimy, agitating preachers and vote-hustling politicians and lawyers trying to justify the violence feeds into the violence of Muslim terrorists.

A Political Eulogy?

"Did you watch it?"
"I didn't think I could handle it."
"It had already started when I turned the TV on and at first I thought something had happened to my TV, that a program from a foreign country had been hooked up by mistake . . . the way some of the people were dressed . . ."
"Dressed how?"
". . . dressed as if centuries ago, by some freak accident some of them were sprung into an orbit circling the Earth and by a mistake they fell out of that orbit and landed into the United States in this 21st century and were trying to make themselves fit in with their dress code of 13 or 14 centuries ago."
"I expected it to be an awkward gathering, different religious and political perspectives."

"To show you that some of them weren't there just to show their respect they used part of their lopsided eulogy to try to discredit the leading presidential candidate or to promote Islam.  But nothing was said about defending our borders or Muslim terrorists openly threatening Americans and our country.  I kept thinking  of that question you asked in your book . . . 'can one survive among hypocrites without being a hypocrite?'  But what turned me completely off was this woman who walked in, stopped, looked about hesitantly as if she didn't know what to do or where to go.  It was her hat.  It had a huge brim that sported a couple of flops that reminded me of the kind that a European woman would have worn in a country that European men had taken over and many of the natives wore very little to cover themselves and they called white women Missi.  Anyway, these native women thought if they could have a hat like Missi they'd be just like Missi, and a native woman told a Missi that she'd work for her for nothing if she'd give her a hat like Missi wore.  Missi agreed and after a month of work Missi gave her the hat and the woman wore it day and night up and down the walking paths throughout the village, even slept in it . . . but that style of hat is so completely identified with white women it makes you feel a little crooked to see a black-skinned woman in one . . ."
"I'm glad I didn't see such a monstrosity."

"Just A Moment. Life"

Before anyone starts trembling thinking of walking or driving down a street and there's a 99-year-old guy driving out there, we must clarify:  .There was this old guy who when sipping a few he'd call me up -- not by cell phone, he wouldn't know the difference between a cell phone and a tablespoon.  But he had this old shell of a car and we'd be in it, knocking back a few and he'd hit the accelerator, figuratively, and start telling me stuff about some of his involvement in trying to eradicate some social problem.  There was one story he never tired of repeating; didn't have anything to do with a social problem.  He'd read Death Of A Salesman so many times that he believed that he was Arthur Miller.  And his favorite moment -- he'd say, "life is but a moment" -- was when he was  married to Marilyn Monroe.  And that's when I would really start listening because if he could believe that he was married to Marilyn Monroe I'd trade places with that 99-year-old man in a flash.  And speaking of flash, reminds me of the time he told me that when he was 16 he wanted a gold tooth.  Black people once thought that having front teeth capped with gold was really heaven.  But the dentist, who was white, told him, "Son, your teeth serve a useful purpose, so don't ruin them with that gold mess.  Besides, when you open your mouth to kiss a girl she'll get that gold flash and scram outta your arms, thinking you're something from outta space."  He said that's when he realized white people have a culture that keeps them pretty smart, that black people have only a cheap imitation of white peoples' culture; some black people identify as Indians.  He said he despised any black who didn't identify with our ancestors who came over on those slave boats.

But getting back to the car.  He had a bad heart, bad lungs, bad kidneys, high blood pressure, a bad liver and only God knew what else so much smoking and drinking had done to him.  But he'd been in the Marine Corps in World War II and believed that nobody could be tougher than a marine.  So we'd sit in that old shell of a car that had nothing under the  hood, he sold all the parts, and he'd imagine we were kicking dust down some dirt road and he'd be telling me about life being a moment and only God knew what in the hell we were doing on this magnetic rock revolving and evolving somewhere in space, and he'd always end by saying, "See you next time, God willing and the creek don't rise."  Then he kicked off sitting there telling me that and I later wrote I Don't See Race Or Color.  My tribute to him.

"I Don't See Race Or Color"

Don't interrupt 'cause this election has me driving down the street and I -- a 99-year-old man -- minding my business and I look to my left and right and people on the sidewalks are pointing and starring and laughing at me and I realize that I'm talking to myself in outbursts and I'm thinking about that scene of the night our heroic soldiers took out that evil Ben Laden and there was this scene on TV of five or six men and a woman watching the action going down.  And the men looked at the action as if thinking, "It's life or death for our gallant men, but when they kill him and when he's buried I wish we could dig him up, waterboard him and electrocute him."  The woman, however, had her hand over her mouth as women do when they're witnessing something awful, horrifying; and the expression on one man's face was difficult to read because he looked different from the other men and he was noted for not wanting to call Muslim terrorists "Muslim terrorists."

That's when my thoughts shouted me back to this man running for President.  All these wonderful, righteous, never-made-a-mistake-hypocritical damn people jumping all over him on TV, radio, in the streets, in newspapers and in different languages -- and I don't know what world these damned hypocrites are living in, but they're not only damned hypocrites they're stupid as hell if they don't know that every country we go to in this world we see people of different colors and we base our opinion on these different people according to what we know of their history and activities they're involved in today in this 21st century.

And ain't no Judge or nobody else gonna tell me -- and not be lying -- when somebody stands before him or her that he or she doesn't see color or race . . . if he or she does I'll tell both of 'em they're either a damned liar, hypocrite or stupid or blind 'cause I, myself, as old as I am still love variety . . . and I'd like to put all these damned hypocrites  and liars jumping all over this man trying to score political points by so solemnly moaning tear-eyed, "Oh, Lord, I'm so wonderful and righteous, and he shouldn't have said that; that is so racist to recognize that someone is identifying with a heritage different from mine" -- all you lying, hypocritical scum need to be water-boarded because you dislike this man because he's showing the world what damned hypocrites, liars, two-faced scum you are!!!"

Sublimely UnSublimable

"I said it, but it wasn't me and if you knew me -- and God is my witness --"
"So, sir, you didn't steal a bottle of soda pop?"
"My mama and daddy, they mamas and daddies, and they friends can tell you I ain't like that . . ."
"And you didn't hit the clerk, a pregnant woman, on the head with it when she tried to take it back -- how old are you?"
"I'm 32 and I ain't never been in trouble before . . . not the real me . . . you ever watch them TV shows of how our people be acting up in prisons?"
"Have you ever been in prison?"
"They say I snatched a woman's purse, took her car keys and ran over her, but, like I said, all my relatives and friends told reporters and the Judge that it wasn't the real me."
"Who was it?"

I don't know, but they'll tell anybody that I jes wanna go to college, git educated to be a leader for our people, like some of our preachers is . . ."
"Actually, going to college these days might do you more damage than good . . . there's much teaching on how to be anti-authoritative.  In fact, some professors are trying to get a law passed that all elementary schools should establish a course that teaches children 'How To Hate Authority Sublimely',"
" 'Subtly-blindly?'  I don't know what that mean, but I sho' don't believe in teaching children to hate, although I don't believe in being taken to jail or prison for nothing, either."
"You ever been shot by a policeman?"
"Why you ask me that?"
"Because a lot of these dudes are always claiming that they're getting arrested or shot 'for nothing', even if we can plainly see them resisting arrest."

"Well, like my relatives and friends will swear on a stack of Bibles that the real me wouldn't lie to keep from going to jail or prison . . . one time this policeman shot me . . ."
"For what?"
"They say I stole a mop."
"A mop?  Why would you steal a mop?  You can buy one for a dollar."
"Ain't that sump'um . . . anyway, they say this policeman and clerk rode down on me walking on the sidewalk with this mop  and I told them that I found it, but he was gonna take me to jail for nothing and at my trial the clerk testified that I resisted arrest and the policeman shot me.  But later my relatives sued the police people for a million dollars and the jury gave us three million . . . ."

"Roots": Grunts To Space Ships

"I just  came by, sis, to tell you that I'll be in hiding until the heat dies down over the series."
"What series?"
"Roots."
"Oh, you're gonna watch it?"
"Hell no."
"Why do you say it that way?  It's educational, history, information dramatized to make it more interesting."
"People find their 'Roots' in their history coming out of 'grunts', before there were the languages we have today . . . how did some people get from their 'Roots' in 'grunts' to building space ships and walking on the moon while other people continued stagnating in the ignorance of their 'grunt' history?  All races of people had slavery coming out of their 'grunt' history, but most -- not all, witness the latest generation of blacks killing each other in Chicago and other cities -- moved on from tribal fighting and eating each other to investigating their surroundings on this planet; expanding their history into questioning, building, and overcoming ignorant beliefs.  They came upon culturally weak people stagnating in tribal warfare and enslaving and saw them as useful for brute labor.

"Even when these culturally strong Europeans came into this Western Hemisphere where millions of Indians outnumbered them but were occupied in tribal squabbles, fighting with primitive weapons, kidnapping and enslaving, the Europeans conquered them.  Today, the descendants of conquered and enslaved people glorify the identity of people who don't identify with them.  These descendants of slaves, having no culture far back in their 'Roots' to reach and build on, continue to anchor their survival to a technique that includes classes, conferences, movies, novels, and a series such as 'Roots', hoping that they will load whites up with a ton of guilt ripe for exploitation . . ."
"Maybe, my brother, if you're constantly reminded that your ancestors were slaves that image will stay with you and others . . ."
"No matter how bravely you fight on battlefields throughout the world, take it to the hoops or weave, dip, and snake-hip up and down the gridiron -- even become President?  It also might make you hate somebody . . . if you aren't careful.  Maybe that's why people in Latin American countries never talk about or show their involvement in slavery . . . if they did maybe they wouldn't be so quick to come here calling others racists . . . ."

Straight Up!

"How does your women's club feel about him?
"We can't ignore the masses he's attracting."
"Straight up.  And your use of the word 'masses' instead of 'crowds' is interesting."
" 'Masses' connotes something firmer, stronger, relates to 'revolution'."
"Straight up.  He uses that word, too."
"Those were the days . . . it was on lips in big city USA, small town USA, Europe, Latin America, Afrika, Asia, the Middle East."
"It was thunder and lightening, victory or death throughout the world."
"When he says it I always think of a circus, a clown, tents folding . . ."

"Straight up.  And young ones love a clown."
"He gets away with it from them and leftovers from those days . . . he loves their cheering, applauding, yelling, fists pushing above their heads -- their revolutionary weapons, their cannons, bombs, bullets, dynamite . . ."
"Who in the hell laughs in a revolution?  Neither the rebels nor those repelling them."
" 'Education is gonna be free for everybody, no more poor and homeless people, all our problems are Wall Streets' fault, this is a revolution against Wall Street!' he's constantly hawking.

"Brainwashing the young romanticists.  If some one said to him:  'Put America first' and 'Make America great again,' he'd just sputter another old, dead slogan."
"Like an old balloon, doesn't have the strong air to shoot straight up in a dangerous, new atmosphere but just enough air to wobble crazily, disappearing in nonsensical debris fettered by podiums."

" . . . Totally Primitive . . . "

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as you know, our organization some years ago discovered certain primitive subjects stagnating in dark corners of our country.  And tonight, as your host, I'm proud to present to you representatives of that group.  While, physically, we aren't exactly replicas of one another, they do walk upright and we're proud of the progress we've made with the most primitive element among them, although I'll admit that it is not intellectual progress, but in their love for full locks of blond and red hair to attach to their rather short, tight  hair, we've supplied them with plaited ropes and blond and red ink to dye those false plaits --"
"Gimmi that damn microphone . . !"
"But, Miss Diddybo, you're the most eloquent person among this primitive element -- please give my microphone back . . . please . . ."

"Shut up, you ain't talking 'bout nothing -- and we ain't 'bout being showed off lak we some clowns!  We here to mess up this meaningless talking and we gon' shout this everywhere people is talking -- "
"But, Miss Diddybo, I'm shocked at your sudden obstreperous outburst  -- and give me my microphone . . . please . . ."
"I ain't giving you nothing -- and I was raised up to be a hell-raiser by my culture and um never gon' stop running my mouf 'bout nothing.  We want to be recognized as educated and stop all this 'scrimination against us and our culture --"
"But, Miss Diddybo, we have nothing against your culture -- we want to help you with it; what is your cultural language . . ?"
"We don't need no culture language, we --"
"But a common language, English, for example, unites people of many different cultures and languages -- even people as totally primitive as you're showing yourself to be --"
"My culture made me how um s'pose to be and we gon' make the world notice us --"
"But, Miss Diddybo, just tell us what you need and we'll be happy to continue helping you with more funds, jobs, educational programs --"
"Shut yo' mouf -- um doing the talking . . . !'

"See What I'm Getting At, Judge?"

" . . . and recognizing, Your Honor, that this case would surely drive any jury insane, the accused, who are also the accusers and aren't present because they're hysterical, can't stop laughing and crying, asked to be tried by you, noted for your fairness throughout the land."
"Well, this case being internationally publicized I've cut short my heart-attack recovery to hear it, so proceed."
"Your Honor, the accused have been happily married for some thirty years, but several years ago, during pillow-talk one night, they agreed that any form of sexual activity might be construed as rape and murder and from that night they've been abstaining.  But several months ago, during pillow-talk again, they decided they should share their deduction with the world because it is potentially dangerous for populations of the world . . ."
"How so?"
"Your Honor, their deduction had started with a fact so simple that they believed most humans never think of it."
"Which is?"
"A human is a spot of sperm and an egg.  And that spot of sperm and egg grow to an infant and later it sprouts into what we call a man or a woman . . ."

"So?"
"That's why we say that a man is part woman and a woman is part man -- a grown-up sperm and egg.  That's why we can give each other a little slack from time to time . . ."
"So what's the problem?"
"Well, Your Honor, in that spot of sperm and egg that combined to form us come generations of ancestors who surely brought their generations of ancestors and when we're having sex we don't know whether those generations of men and women in us like what we're doing to them or not; so, in that love-making aren't we violating each other at every stage of maturity we've come through and that we shall always carry within us, the infant --"
"Oh, holy, merciful God --"
"-- the adolescent, the teenager -- where did those stages go?  They're still in us -- see what I'm getting at, Judge"
"Please, God, no more --"
"And if there was a person in those generations in us who millions of us worship as 'holy, divine' --"
"Oh, Lord, help me, God -- oh -- my heart . . . ."

A Judge And A Shadowy Dismembering

"Your Honor,  my client pleads that though he was present at the scene and scent of the man's dismembering he had nothing to do with it; it was his shadow that tore apart the limbs of . . ."
"Counselor, the report that I have here states that your client has undergone six months of stern testing in our medical facility and found to be sane and extremely intelligent, ready to stand trial; yet you, a licensed,  respected lawyer, having the temerity of a philantropic philanderer, stand in my sanctified court of law and pander this liberal nonsense about his shadow committing this vicious crime?"
"Your Honor, I believe it to be a valid argument, considering the context of time in which I'm presenting it; today, in the 21st century, if a man can be adjudicated to be a woman and a woman to be a  man why can't a man's shadow be adjudged to be an entity total and separate unto itself?  Your Honor, haven't you ever been walking along a sidewalk and for some reason you suddenly looked down and to your left and you see the shadow of a man there and you jump, scared out of your wits, your heart pounding, then you realize, Oh, that's just my shadow .  But, Your Honor, your shadow had taken you over and caused you to react as you did, and, Your Honor, my client swears that his shadow, whom he often disputes with, got into his head and hands and arms and used him to commit that bloody crime . . ."

"I admit, Counselor, that I believe we all at one time or another have been frightened by our shadow, but that doesn't prove that a shadow is --"
"Your Honor, getting back to my first analogy, even though that person who was a he or a she who was changed by being cut and gutted, that 'he' is gonna overshadow that new 'she' of him forever, as any new 'he' is gonna be overshadowed by his old she.  And that former him and her will forever overshadow the new 'she' and 'he' entering all places where a natural he and she have privacy --"
"Enough!  Basta!  Assez!   This shadow-business overshadows not only your client's case but it is so precedential in its nature that not only is our entire legal system threatened by this liberal interpretation of a law that reverberates with nature's reverence but the very foundation of our society will be destroyed by this outrage of liberal muscling, and neither I nor my shadow will be a part of that -- I quit, resign, turn this case over to another court and pray that we will get back to electing a President who will adhere to our Constitution and will name a man or woman who puts 'America First' to that vacant seat on our Supreme Court!"

Call The Police

"If you were a policeman would you go into one of those communities?"
"Sure.  But I'd pull my gun out the moment I entered one, to let them know that I don't play."
"Those communities are filled with people who'll attack you even when you have a gun on them."
"That's why, though I'm not a policeman, I wouldn't go into one without a gun."
"You have a permit to carry a gun?"
"Why you ask me that?  That little detail doesn't matter to one of those ignorant fools with a gun."
"I think they hope we'll shoot them in the leg or hand so they can sue us for millions, but I asked you that because I've got to go on this domestic violence call and I want you to accompany me . . ."
"Where is it?"

"What difference does it make?  You're one of  those volunteers to accompany an officer on a call aren't you?"
"Is it a black community?"
"It is."
"People from those communities are marching in the streets chanting 'Kill the police,' their children are throwing rocks  and bottles and pointing toy guns at them, even trying to wrestle an officer's gun from him -- providing all those people with anti-white, anti-American feelings an avenue to unmask their feelings, cutting off their nose to spite their face --"
"That's why you'd be the perfect witness --"
"But they're not only against the police they're killing each other, so they'll shoot me first . . ."
"They couldn't call you a racist . . ."
"They wouldn't have to.  That's the job of their so-called leaders and agitators . . . always eager to praise and encourage them in their right to disturb the peace . . . besides, I  identify with black people and not with these ignorant n-word fools."

Running Games

The middle-aged man and lanky teenager sat on a park bench a couple of blocks from a high school.  "You mean we'll all be able to go to college for free . . . who's gonna pay for it?"
"If he's elected by you young people his government will make the rich pay for it.  They've got all of our money and just sitting on it."
"I wanna go to college, but I don't believe that some people who don't even know me are gonna pay for me to go," the teenager said, and thought, This dude must be half crazy.
"All you have to do is work with other kids who're campaigning for him in all the colleges and neighborhoods throughout the country.  This can't fail," he said, thinking, They're pampered and brainwashed to try any slick game for something free.
"What if I can't find a job, where am I gonna get money for housing, food, and clothing?  I can't be just sitting in college and don't have no social life.  Where will I get bucks for my good time?"

"His educational program will be funded by the government to take care of all that.  Listen, the government's got plenty of money, that's why people run games on it.  For example, like clockwork your people riot and loot and demand millions of dollars and new programs to rebuild neighborhoods that hoodlums have destroyed in the rioting."
"That game's been going on for a hundred years."
"You young people don't have the experience of working and travel and have no knowledge to recognize the games that are run on your people by your own leaders."
"If we had some truly educated and sincere leaders they'd have created a productive culture unique to our people, as other people have, rather than keep us stagnating in a so-called culture centered around nothing but constantly changing our hair styles.  Now they got people hustling us by selling us ropes to attach to our hair and calling it black culture.  But as far as somebody talking about making rich people and the government provide free college for everybody, that sounds like somebody running a game on dummies to me."

Big Guy

Not that something similar, but not the real thing, hadn't been done before.  Every size of dirt that called itself a country, territory, state, county, city, town, or village had experienced a hint of it, and everybody knew how to do it.  According to them.  They saw it happening and not only talked about it in the streets, on their jobs, in their homes; they wrote of it in newspapers, magazines, books, and talked it on radio and TV shows.  Yet, it was a mystery and not a mystery because everybody knew all the answers.  "It's so easy," they were constantly proclaiming.  So why hadn't one of them done it?

The policemen and secret agents would find their work around it so much easier if they'd only talk to one of these know-it-all.  Day and night, people -- even children -- were clamoring about it.  And they were not just common, humdrum people; they were big-time, honest, and crooked politicians and business people; even gamblers were taking bets that he could or couldn't pull it off; children were betting each other with their pennies.  It was his style that captivated them.

They had given him that proverbial "Snow Ball In Hell" chance when they first heard about him, but he had a natural flair for doing the unexpected, taking unbelievable, sure to fail moves, and making them work.  One minute he was saying "this" and the next he had moved to "that".  He was here, then there, and they were talking about  him all over the world, believing he could accomplish anything, and make it look easy.  In fact, he told them:  "You've got to be unpredictable.  You can't let your enemy know every move you're gonna make."
That's when they began calling him "Big Guy.!"

Degrading The White House?

Mention the name "White House" and positive thoughts come to most of us.  They come headed by a magnificent white mansion housing the most powerful office in our country -- if not the world -- and they include the names of men who sat in that office.  We think of the wars that our brave soldiers fought in during the tenure of some men in that office who's strength and skill saved our country from enemy boots marching through the streets of our cities.

Recently, there was an event at the White House that many Americans called a celebration, others called a comedy, many called a disaster, still others didn't know what to call it.  Stop for a moment and think of the centuries of blood that the foundation of this White House rests  upon.  Now think of these slimy good-for-nothings who spit on the American flag, stomp on it, and burn it while, before and after, beg for more welfare.  And bleeding-heart ignoramuses defend them and their actions.

The low or high point of this event at the White House, depending on whether one's degree of sanity is positive-high or negative-low, seemed to have been a speaker brought in to entertain those fortunate enough to acquire an invitation to this lavish event.  Dignified men and women representing the rich and powerful in politics, business, entertainment, education, science, the military, journalism, and other noteworthy fields of endeavor sat eating and drinking, straining to find humor in the entertainer's attempt at comedy.  Suddenly, the entertainer looked at the man who sits in the office at the White House, the President of the United States, and said, ". .  . my nigga . . . ."

When A Vote Is Not

"It's a damn sham vote!"
"No, it's the law, and we've got to abide by the law or we've got chaos!"
"Generations of 'God-loving, God-fearing people' had to abide by anti-black laws because they were the laws."
"That was different -- a different time -- so let's just calm down.  Those laws were passed to avoid the horrors of forcing millions of uneducated, uncultured people on others of whom they were not the same peer group . . ."

"I can understand that, and just as those laws were abolished, why can't we abolish this damn sham vote of the first round of so-called voting?"
"Now, I respect what you're saying from your limited knowledge of foundations --"
"Don't disrespect my intelligence!"
"See, you're getting emotional again and when people are confused about something important to them they have a tendency to become emotional . . ."

"You will never make me understand that I must accept and respect the vote that was voted was not a real vote so it will be voted another vote that will be the real vote -- so why did we waste time voting that first  vote when it wasn't a real vote?"
"You see, that's what I mean about you being confused.  I doubt that I can explain it to one of you emotional people --"
"I'll save you the trouble.  I just ain't getting mixed up in voting no mo' 'till a damn vote really is a vote that was voted to be counted a vote."

" . . . after last night . . . "

"Honey, gambling's like alcohol or drugs, it can hook you up."
"No, this is the first time -- and the last -- but this is special . . ."
"Not once last night, not twice, but five times he stepped up to the plate and five times he hit a homerun.  So after last night I'm willing to let you off the bet . . ."
"No, the doctor said I'm gonna have twins, a boy and a girl, and I want my daughter's name to mark this great chance for women."
"And I want every birthday of the boy to mark the astonishing conquest of this man who overcame incredible enemies, political, being called a racist --"
"It was the same with that one in 2008."

"But that was such an upheaval in our country and the entire world between blacks and whites that nothing was going to stop millions of us from being a part of that historical moment."
"Now, I want my soon to be daughter to be a part of this beautiful moment in history by being named after that woman our votes --"
"But when we look back on the entire history of our country, we -- if we're truthful -- have to admit what culture the people came from who led our country to its greatness and we need another man from that culture to make us great again . . ."

"Or a woman from that culture."
"I never thought I'd hear one of you women admit that about women from that culture."
"Whether we admit it or not, everybody can see that they're different."
"And it's not just their blond hair."
"Blond hair looks natural on whites . . . it makes black-skinned people look like clowns."

Losing Weight

"Doctor, it's as if my head is swelling and tightening at the same time.  Then it travels over my whole body 'till I think I'm gonna explode . . ."
"Have you noticed when and what brings on this weight that, frankly, I don't see on you."

"When I'm around certain people or dreading going into the streets or taking a bus.  Thousands of people looking like tramps or thugs or uninvited guests via the top of boxcars or a worthless border fence fill the streets while the  monotonous pounding of basketballs attack me, and people tacking ropes to their head and calling imitating the long hair of white women black culture swoop on me, sad, sad, sad, and a candy bar and a cigar dance in my eyes, inviting able-bodied men to steal'em and senselessly rake merchandise from shelves to the floor.  Then it's night and my body with all this weight staggers down trash-cluttered streets with burning houses and stores and firemen trying to subdue the flames while dodging bullets from hoodlums shooting at police; suddenly, I'm looking at TV and as usual there're these pictures of an Afrikan desert in the 21st century with these endless lines of bug-eyed, skeletonized women squatting in the dirt, wrapped and warped from the top of their head to their bare feet in rags for dress as if drugged by some voodoo curse or other religious dogma into starving and begging for centuries, and scrawny babies in a malnourished death-trance stare at the women's wrinkled chest where only a black spot is left of what was once a breast and the babies seemed to be thinking, 'Why did this foolish woman grunt me out in this hell-hole?'  And then on the TV is this 'preacher, man of God' swearing, 'I hate violence,' but everywhere he goes he's always yelling, 'No Justice, No Peace!' and violence erupts.  Then in one ear mobs are whining, 'Give us some black privilege, too!' and my other ear is filled with, 'Give! Fools! Nobody ever gave us anything.  We had to study, work, plan, and sacrifice for everything we've got -- we're not giving  you anything . . . !'  Can you help me, doctor?"
"You look much better now than when you came in, so keep it going.  Whom are you voting for in the presidential election?"
"Guess." 

The "S" & "C" Words

"Don't tell me, keep it to yourself, but what ethnic group do you immediately think of as having the most loud-mouthed, vulgar-mouthed, less educated people?"
"That's easy."
"Why do you think that was so easy for you?"
"They're the only people who keep their mind -- at least their leaders keep their mind -- closed around the 'S'-word."
"How do you think their leaders get away with that?"

"They have all these meetings, conferences, and classes on the 'S'-word, but they never mention the 'C'-word, the source of a people's strength or weakness."
"I guess it's like the 'P H'-word.  We all relive that treachery that occurred against us the 7th of December, some 75 years ago, but we only mention it on the 7th of each December.  And the Jews will never forget the Holocaust, that wave of evil they suffered for years beginning in the 1930s.  They have occasions to remind the world of those people and nations that participated in that evil, but they don't continue talking about it 24-hours a day, 365 days a year."
"These 'N'-words today cheapen the suffering of their ancestors of the 'S'-word by daily exploiting it in their slimy hustling.  They don't work to improve themselves with the 'C'-word, they -- whining excuse makers couldn't have withstood a day of the 'S'-word -- use it, hoping to justify their ignorant behavior."

"These 'N'-words have the emotional courage to riot 'n loot and mug and murder, but not the intellectual courage to conceive of themselves as having a cultural language different from English, afraid they'll be considered un-American, even though there're Americans all around them speaking Spanish, French, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, Arabic, German, Hebrew, Russian as their respective cultural language and English, because of America's power, as the lingua franca of the world.  If after some 400 years these 'N'-words had a strong 'C'word they wouldn't still have an inferiority complex about their hair." 

Why Let Them Vote?

". . . tell the truth!" the man shouted.  You turn to your friend and say, "Doesn't he know that he has about as much chance of getting the truth from some mob hustling 'black' as an elephant trying to impregnate an ant?"
"Yet, he has to be admired and congratulated for having the nerve to ask them for the truth.  Can you imagine some black politician, from the highest  position to the lowest or some black preacher having the courage and the honesty to ask a black mob to tell the truth rather than saying what  he thinks the mob wants to hear?"
"That rioting 'n looting that began in Ferguson, Missouri  and spread to other cities is an example of that . . ."
"And you'd think this was the 17th century when all this whining and lying about all of us being equal began and not the 21st century."

"When mobs of ignorant people have for centuries placed their so-called cultural, educational, political, and economic foundation in the hands of so-call blacks who could tell the biggest lies they've been acquiescing to lies for so long that they've forgotten how to recognize or tell the truth."
"Educated people can think, can create cultural features that encourage them to establish businesses to provide jobs for themselves and not be dependent on non-black people or a government to take care of them; educated people don't become predictable, empty-headed pawns for a political party; don't become noted for petty crime, rioting, fratricidal tendencies, resisting arrest and marching through the streets accusing the police of arresting them 'for nothing', and calling for police to be killed."
"The problem is centered around identity . . . people calling themselves black. but taking their identity from people who don't identify as black."

"They should be consistent as some of these people calling themselves French or Spaniards -- French and Spaniards are white you know.  But many of these people look like Indians and Afrikans -- and half the time you don't know whom you're looking at and they're all racists these 'people of color' calling everybody else racists.  But they're consistent in taking French and Spanish names and the French and Spanish language."
"If people are confused about their identity why the hell should they be allowed to vote?"

Better Whisper Some Things

The moment the guard turned from the cell door, Rav, the man he had closed in, put his forefinger to his lips, sat beside Lodz on the bottom bunk and whispered, "We shall have to whisper some things -- in case we slip into something, know what I mean?"
"I'm surprised that they put you in the cell with me," Lodz said aloud.
"They're probably being nice, hoping to make us more pliable," Rav said aloud, then leaned close and whispered, "The cell is probably bugged.  They know that we represent different factions and hope that we will argue and let something slip."  Aloud he said, "They know that your people and mine support a different soccer team --"
"I don't care if they hear me, they've already called me an extremist.  You and I know the same emotional stress of joy or sorrow as the players when our team wins or loses, but eventually we calm down, looking forward to the next contest.  Each team has its coach, the head, so neither you or I have anything to do with them winning or losing.  The head and millions of supporters hold the teams together.  Soccer doesn't hold us together --"

Rave wagged his forefinger at Lodz, then put it to his lips and whispered, "I believe as you that just as there are many different teams under the name of soccer, there are many factions under the name of our religion.  We have these factions, but we all call God by the same name.  If a faction of our religion gets into a war with people of another religion, as one soccer team with another, we naturally feel a degree of comfort or sorrow, dependent on whether our faction or the enemy loses or wins a battle.  In addition, let us recognize that our religion and soccer don't exist out in space but in countries, states, and cities on Earth and our quarrels and fights affect political bodies and their constituents.  Some of these politicians are so foolish, so afraid we will accuse them of criticizing our religion that even though factions of our religion are terrorizing our own people and people of other religions they will not call these factions religious terrorists --"

"If any religion is beyond criticism, then where in the hell did all these factions and different  interpretations of 'holy' words come from?"
"You know I don't believe in this violence -- " he stopped and continued in a whisper, "but I can't condemn it publicly because that opens the door for others to attack our wonderful religion -- now you understand why I said we'd better whisper some things?"

" . . . and another thang . . ."

"Grandpa, if some men want to be women do they want to  have babies, too?"
"Now, son, some  things is better not to talk about."
"Why not, grandpa?"
" 'Cause  I don' care how much they cut on a man they ain' gon' make him no woman."
"But I hear people talking about it on TV and on the radio --"
"We ain't the same physically and we don't think alike -- that's why we have to make these exceptions for women . . ."
"Is it true that we ain't suppose to hit a woman?"

"You ain' 'pose to hit a woman no matter what she do."
"What if she's trying to kill you?"
"You have to be done done something awful against her for her to try to kill you."
"I seen a woman standing on her tiptoes, looking in a man's face and cussing him . . ."
"Even then he can jus' walk away."
"If a girl do that to me, I'll slap her."
"How old are you, son?"
"Thirteen."

"As you get older, you'll change . . . things is always changing . . . when I was about  your age we didn't have all these machines and gadgets taking over society.  Now days people spend all day sitting at a computer, can't walk down the street or get they bus fare out'a their pocket or purse 'cause they can't stop gossiping on some cell -- and another thang -- I remember when I was about your age, me and some buddies had jus' come from seeing this movie with James Cagney  fighting these Japanese and we wanted to join the Army and fight 'em too, but we  knew we was too young, and we thought maybe they'd accept us as water-boys and we could go out on the battlefield -- during a break in the fighting -- and take the soldiers some water, as if fighting a war was like playing football.

"We was all raised to be very patriotic in those days.  We had a little school we went to, only two rooms, but every morning before classes started we used to stand  up, put our  hand over our heart and proudly pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America . . . now, we got scum, Americans, who spit on the flag and step on it and burn it and make me so mad I wanna stomp on 'em till they can't walk . . . ."

D. D. Throwaways

". . . we gon' shoot ol' so-'n-so. we gon' kill him . . . "

You look at them.  Some people not only sound ignorant every time they open their dumb mouth, they also look ignorant, and you think:  If these D. D. Throwaways are still stagnating in ignorance in the 21st century what must they have been like coming out of some stone age culture in the 16th century.  If you can see one or hear of one of these loud-mouthed ignorant fools getting shot today and you only think "ho hum, how boring," then you can understand how people who looked and sounded totally different from them centuries ago couldn't see them as humans but sub-human things of no worth.

"Ol' so-'n-so is a racist and we gon' git him . . ."

But this so-'n-so hasn't killed or abused a single black.  Blacks have been killing twenty and thirty other blacks weekly for months and these ignorant loud-mouths haven't opened their dumb mouths about that.  Why -- if they're so concerned about defending blacks?  It's a talk show.  A game for getting seen on TV.  A killer doesn't go around broadcasting about whom he's going to kill.  These people are dummies even though there's been public education in our country for over a hundred years and organizations helping drop-outs to become drop-ins to, now days, listen to a ton of drop-in teachers who should be dropped-out along with their political agendas.

Let them, for example, take their butts to some socialist or communist country, like Cuba or North Korea or China -- better, still, let them join the jihadists and their troubles will be over; they'll have no more complex decisions to ponder about life; the jihadists confront them with only one door, the door of death.  You're dead when they bring in through that door and you're dead when they send you out that door.

You see these D.D.Throwaways prancing and provoking at political rallies and when some man hits one of these "killers" in the mouth this "killer" almost kills himself running away.  Who, with any sense, cares how many of these dumb damn "killers" get shot?  They're nothing but a continuation of centuries of D.D.Throwaways. 

Hermano and Brother

Two words or two worlds?  The question comes as you watch a man on TV.  If two worlds, he's at one of those worlds and has had to decide whether he'll move into it or try to conduct his business from outside it.  He's on a dance floor in a night club in Argentina, a young woman, lovely, svelte, in his arms.  They're dancing the tango.   " How in the hell can he be dancing after that tragedy of Muslim terrorists slaughtering so many innocent people in Brussels . . ?" echoing in your mind from a previous TV news commentator.  You're instantly transported to walking down a sidewalk in Mexico City and you're suddenly hearing  ". . . Hermano . . . oye, mano . . ."  You continue walking, but seconds later the call comes again and you think, There're only a few people on this sidewalk, maybe he's calling out to me.

You turn and see this guy wave, hurrying toward you.  "Que pasa, mano, vamos a tomar  una cerveza" (" What's happening, brother, let's have a beer . . ."). he says.  You've been in Mexico long enough to know that you represent a world of people that some of them have heard about but do not know. and you marvel at the ease and frequency with which "hermano" or "mano"  is used among these Spanish-speaking people and the ease with which the language lends itself to "mi adorable" or "mi vida" or "mi corazón" between men and women who might not even know each other.

You watch this man on TV, a black President from an Anglo-strong society where the only people who constantly refer to one another as "brother" are Afrikan Americans and to them that black President is "gettin' down," and to that they say, "yeah, do the do, brother."  He had done it in Cuba.  And you could imagine some non-brother people wailing, "How dare him represent us super immortal people by being so cordial with those people.  He's probably calling them 'hermano' and 'hermana.'  My God, we've never been so humiliated!"  The dance is ending, her shapely white thigh cradling high on his, and you burst out laughing, visualizing racists of all colors, world-wide, groaning in agony.  You try to think of another President who could've stepped into those two worlds and done the business he'd come to do, especially with fear and hatred being spread throughout the world not by Christians, not by Hebrews, not by Buddhists but by Muslim terrorists.

Unhidden Cuba Few Know

Ask many of today's college students, especially those storming into the political rallies of a certain presidential candidate to disrupt them, who was José Martí or Antonio Maceo y Grajales or what is La Santería and they'd think that you'd suddenly lost your sanity.

Island people are trapped in a perpetually destructive oceanic orbit that carries them all the days and nights of their life through hurricanes, tidal waves, floods, and whatever other misery that the wrath of tons of water can think of to smash animate and inanimate objects with.  In defense, island people have to move fast, requiring them to think fast.  They're impatient with slow thinking, slow moving people; their speech and actions come fast, sharply.

José Martí, Cuban revolutionary leader and poet is considered to be the Apostle of the Cuban Revolution against Spain; was killed in combat on the battlefield.

General Antonio Maceo y Grajales was second in command of the Cuban Revolutionary Army against the Spaniards.  Because of his brillance and heroic fighting on the battlefield -- and being an Afro Cuban -- he was called El Titán de Bronze (The Bronze Titan).  La Santería is the synthesis of features of Catholicism and the Yoruba religion of the slaves from Nigeria.  It is deeply ingrained in Cuban culture and the cultures of countries south of the United States border.

It was encouraging to sense in the body language of the U.S. President and the Cuban President a measure of rapport, grandstanding or sincere, overcoming different political systems; it showed the results of contact  between people of dark and light complexion in Cuba and in the United States after centuries of years,  Knowledge of others is essential in one's offense and defense.

Scares Slimy Anti_Americans To . . .

According to these scumbags only one man had anything to do with these mobs of ignorant hooligans invading the political rallies of peaceful Americans.  These illiterate scumbag juveniles would have us believe that one man, a presidential candidate, knew all of these dummies from their birth and he, not their parents, had everything to do with them in their formative years.  These very same liars who've been attacking this man from the moment he became a presidential candidate would have us believe that they had nothing to do with provoking these mobs to invade his political rallies.

These hypocrites insult our intelligence by tripping over each other to get on TV and radio stations to accuse this presidential candidate of causing this rioting seconds after one began; they had the accusations at the ready.  Their quick-as-a-flash response to them helped to promote more rioting.  And jerks at TV stations are guilty of replaying, ad nauseam for sensationalism, scenes of peace officers trying to calm some ignorant hoodlum pretending to be enraged in order to be seen on TV.

Hypocrites believe that if they just don't mention the words 'Muslim terrorists' they can placate these Muslim terrorists who're chopping off Christians' heads and burning people alive.  How do they think that they can placate an enemy -- without being a fool -- who broadcasts to the world that they intend to kill Americans all over the world?  All of these miscreants are crying out, 'Don't allow him to speak!  Let any of the other candidates speak, but not him -- disrupt his  rallies!'  Why?  Hasn't he been praised for bringing it the way it needs to be brought, for not sugar-coating evil?  Of course, and that's what scares these slimy anti-Americans to death!

The Pope, Culture-Speak, Politics

Is there mistreatment of Indigenous people in any country south of the border of the United States?  Or did the Pope exaggerate?  Or did someone lie on the Pope?  It was reported that during the Pope's recent tour of countries south of our border that he scolded the people of a country for mistreating the Indigenous people.  In the United States -- and in the country where he allegedly scolded some people -- many will interpret this 'mistreatment' as Culture-Speak.  Culture-Speak is empowerment over Culture-losers.  When Europeans brought Culture-Speak into the now-Americas some of the Indigenous people said:  'We better wake up and smell the coffee and update our culture or this Culture-Speak will bury us.'  The Europeans took Culture-Speak to Afrika and rounded up a few million Culture-Losers and brought them to the now-Americas and some woke up, smelled the coffee, and are doing quite well.

But most of the blacks and Indigenous people refused to smell the coffee and passed a Loser-Spirit onto succeeding generations, especially in politics.  They created names and phrases in an attempt     to degrade the Culture-Speak people and make them feel so weak and guilty  that some of these Culture-Speak could only feel civilized by giving these Culture-Losers whatever they demanded.  In fact, some of these Culture-Speak people became politicians and took over the government in order to give these Culture-Losers more.  One of the names that these Culture-Losers use for maligning the Culture-Speak people is "racist".  In the presidential election of 2016, thousands of these ignorant, loud-mouthed Culture-Losers are attempting to defeat a presidential candidate who  represents strength, expertise, and power by calling  him a racist; they raise hell wherever he speaks.  Fortunately, some of the Culture-Speak people and their supporters are smashing some of these Culture-Losers in their damn mouth.

Sane Love

"Men and women kill each other because of love . . . isn't that a contradiction, Rev'n'?"
"No.  You see, there're different kinds of love, young man -- how old are you?"
"I'll be fourteen next month and I don't want no love that make somebody want to kill me or me kill somebody and end up on death row . . ."
"Well, you're a little young for me to get into agape, and to paraphrase a great poet '. . . you still have miles to go before you sleep . . .' so I'll just say that there's strange love and sane love, and we humans can sometimes be whimsical, untrustworthy, and flighty in our love for each other.  But what about love for country, would you fight for your country knowing you'll have to fight or be killed?"
"Of course."

"Now, that's hard-nosed love, no wiggle room there.  You and your country are threatened by an enemy, what would you do?"
"I'd kill'em before they can kill me."
"But what if you wanted to be President of the country, you couldn't think about just saving your life . . . you'd be responsible for the lives of millions of people in your country and in allied countries.  Could you treat with Heads of State of other countries, you having no experience in that business?  You go all over the country making speeches to convince people how hard-nosed and firm you'd be as President and millions of people jump to their feet applauding and cheering you, loving what you're saying.  But they vote for another candidate and you're perplexed, can't figure out what happened.  It was the mild-mannered, soft-spoken way you came across, even when speaking bluntly, that overrode all the toughness you tried to portray.  And the people accepted you with sane love."

The Intolerant Tolerant

"If you're gong down the street and you see some green people with  2-inch green strips coming out of their skull as hair what would you do?" I asked him.
"Male or female?"
"Both." I said
"I'd try to get close enough to check out the females."
"I'm asking you this because I heard this black woman complaining in public that whites were racists because some time one asks to touch her hair.  With all the serious problems so-called blacks have with identity, education, economics, politics, culture, self-hate and violence, killing  each other, she's devastated, tortured, torn apart about somebody wanting to touch her hair . . . those green people looking nothing like me, I'd be curious to touch their hair and skin . . . wanting to learn how and why we were so different.  And I expect they'd have the same curiosity about us."
"I'd like to find out if they speak English so I could check out what's happening on the mind-side, if they were friends or enemies . . ."

"In one of those South of the Border countries  with an emphasis on whitening their population I' d be talking to some woman who'd never seen an Afrikan American except in American movies and probably had never been within hollering distance of any so-called black dude anywhere and she'd ask if she could touch my hair, and what gentleman could refuse?  She'd be rubbing it and laughing and saying stuff like   ' . . . tan chinitos' (' such tiny, tight curls').  'Tienes que peinarlo?' ('Do you have to comb it?').  Such natural, innocent curiosity.  And I'd be thinking, Have at it, baby doll, pay me for your thrills, and from that moment we sho'nuff got acquainted.

"And I believe that if these empty-headed so-called blacks who take their identities from non-blacks had sense enough to look at themselves through the eyes of people with strong cultures they'd be interested in some ethnic cleansing among themselves.  They'll also realize that they can't tolerate black-power people without tolerating white-power people and brown-power people, etc., etc., etc."
"Amen.  Say that again."

The Long Black Limousine

Millions along the streets in our larger cities and on TVs throughout the world watched it.  Drums echoed soft, spaced beats by teenage boys in colorful uniforms and horns held mournful undertones from pretty young blondes and brunets in skimpy dress.
"What's going on; what's this parade about?"
"Where've you been, sleeping under some rock?  Publicity's  been going on about this for weeks . . . the world finally agreed on the most handsome, muscular, wealthy man in the world and matched  him with the most beautiful, feminine, intelligent, courageous blonde in the world; married them and everybody marveled at how happy -- that's who's in that long, black limousine."

"Why's it moving so slowly,  and why's everybody so quiet?"
"The two of them committed suicide -- they had it all, and up and hung it up."
"Why?"
"Who knows . . . just left a note that said 'We're dead, now what?' "
"And what's that old wagon behind it -- being pulled by a horse, looking like something out the Ol' West, going to Boot Hill -- got to do with it?"
"Some newspaper thought that up . . . got the world to agree on the two ugliest, po'assed dead people they could find in the country and put'em in that wagon."
"For What":

"They say they'll give anybody a million dollars who can tell them what that whole scene means."
"Man . . !"
"You can keep looking at that raggedy ol' wagon and horse all you want, I'm looking at that long, black limousine."
"What if that suicide note was asking 'What if all this material, immaterial, moral and immoral stuff that we get attached to is only relative to something we don't yet -- and never will -- know about? What if death makes life a joke?"
"If it's a joke, why aren't you laughing?"
"Ha . . !"
"Mmm . . . at least you tried."

"Load Up, Here They Come . . !"

"With the enemy a few hundred yards over there in the mountains, this might seem a strange time and place to bring this up, but I have a question."
"This might be the best time and place to ask it, seeing we might not come out of this in one piece."
"Considering the mess you people have to stomach, why does anyone want to be a leader?"

"I don't know about the others, but I've asked myself that some times."
"Y'all have to be blessed or cursed with something the rest of us don't have -- except in emergencies.  For example, if you get knocked off in this I'm the next in line to take over, and I know I can handle it in an emergency, but soon as the emergency is over, get it the hell away from me."
"I'm not bragging, but when it comes to defending our country I'm ready to lead or whatever . . . being a political leader, however, I watch these politicians, they have to stomach mess from all these different organizations, companies, ethnic groups, and individuals whining 'What y'all gonna do for my people and my company and my  children and --"

"I believe that in all that criticism and denouncing they have to stomach, being ready day and night to come to the rescue of some egotistical constituent and so many thinking they know better than you how and what you should do about some problem -- that's where I'd have to hang it up . . . they'd be looking for me to lead in something and I'd be off lying under some bridge smoking a joint . . ."
"And when you think of some of the racial crap leaders of some of these black groups have to deliberately conjure up to feed their dumb followers  to hold them together you have to know these black 'leaders' have to have strong stomachs -- quick, everybody!  If you not loaded up, load up, here they come again!  Get your butts in gear and follow me . . . !"

Been Down That Darkness (part 2)

Words come not forcefully to impale your hope, but there's a kind of tired, disinterest about them as if the speakers merely repeat a routine and the disinterest in their eyes does not vary, does not return the connection that you feel when you look into their black face in every Afrikan counsellor that you visit.  You're not of my tribe, their eyes say when they ask, "Why do you want to go to my country?  Do you know anyone in my country?  What will you do there?"

"I want to be part of the revolution there."  Couldn't they see in my face, hear in my voice, know that we're one people as were the Europeans when they came with their powerful cultures, taking over country after country of culturally backward people?  They knew what you did not before arriving that you, not being a communist and there via the underground, cannot leave except some other country accept you.  Some revolutionaries they were, not willing to help a brother.  You were wasting your time with them.

Then word comes to you from a communist committee.  They were some nine or ten men and women sitting at two long collapsible tan tables..  You sit in a tan tin chair facing them some fifteen feet away.  They smile when one of the women asks, her voice beaming, "How would you like to be with our soldiers fighting for the revolution in another country?"
"No," you answer without hesitating, thinking, You don't identify with them, they don't identify with you.  It's their war, let them fight and die for their cause.  You imagine them having plotted:  'Take him on the battlefield, kill him there, make him an inspiration, a martyr for the anti-American blacks among the Yankees in his country.'  Headlines had probably already been prepared, 'Afrikan American Revolutionary Dies In Battle'.  You're trapped in the darkness of anti-American communism -- another word for slavery -- and your master is an irrefutable one-man communist dictator of every meek conformist in his nation.  But in that darkness you are awakened by a belief that is your light:  "When any  man is enslaved, if he does not try to escape he deserves to be enslaved."  And that light becomes your way out.
                                        mwisho

Been Down That Darkness (part 1)

. . . you're just walking along the street with her -- young, pretty, shapely, black woman -- and you put your hands in your pockets and she says, "Take your hands out of your pockets."  And thinking that if a man wants to put his hands in his pockets, they're his hands and his  pockets.  "For what," I say.  She didn't say anymore about it.  You assume that she didn't want you to go off on her there in the streets with so many people around.  A few days later you go to  her apartment  and the moment she opens the door she flinches, frowning.  "You didn't comb your hair," she says.  You don't say a word, just turn and walk away.  Many years have passed and you've never seen her again.  You never told her that you were at war.  Didn't think she'd understand it.

You walked alone in the crowded streets with that war; alone with it in your one-room apartment until it exploded attempting to smother affection for all humans, relatives, friends, a sweetheart, a wife, children, and any material luxury; strong to replace them with cold, calculated dedication to revolution, not pamphleteering-leafleteering-rioting-looting "revolution", needing something stronger -- and not with a handful here and a handful there of reckless, attention-seeking numbskulls splattering the air throughout the land with "Pick up the gun", assembling around nothing more than skin color, thinking that they're gonna be another Fidel Castro and a "Che".  Against the most powerful country in the world?  The MFs were stark mad.

You go underground, traveling as in night, darkness, sworn to "Africa or bust" where black is numerically superior and gunning is logical.  "Socialism, communism, complete overturning, total revolution," you've heard and you'll say goodbye to the western world by taking a look at that land where communism had been ensconced under the romanticized, tantalizing cry of "Revolution!"
                                      Part 2, kesho, tomorrow

"Wha'sa --hic-- Matter?" (part 2)

. . . you'll get exhausted faster than saying 'I matter' . . ."
"But, doctor, don't you think saying 'me meat . . .' puts more emphasis on 'matter' and will make me more conscious of my 'meat'?"
"Now, see, if you say 'me meat matter' you've short-stopped 'I matter'.  You've faced your problem of carrying around all that 'matter' and maybe it'll help if you take off the weight of all those ropes you're wearing on your head hanging past your butt for hair, and tie a large rag around your mouth -- hey, since we said 'meat matter' I got rid of that hiccing.  So I guess in short we're just talking about satisfying or saving our meat.  Come back to see me in two or three years.  That's how often this 'matter' seems to come up with you people."

"But, doctor, walking around with part of my face under a rag won't people think I'm a terrorist?"
"Yep.  And, hopefully, by then we'll have a government that knows how to deal with all our enemies, especially if you're one of those who complains that there aren't enough blacks in positions to satisfy your needs.  There're organizations ready to pay your passage to the land of our Afrikan ancestors where you can feel 'Justice And Peace' under the rule of only blacks.  But if you live in fear of each other in 'black' communities here how'er you gonna live in tribal communities in Afrika?  What tribe will accept you will be the least of your problems in those tribal wars and unfamiliar customs.  So long, goodbye, good luck, and close the door as y'all go out.  Y'all won't be missed.

"Or are you one of those confused, lying, troublesome people who'd rather remain here with this swarm of carbon-copies who call themselves black people but want only the identities of people who don't identify as black, and they constantly whine and moan that until there's justice for 'blacks' there isn't going to be peace for anybody.  Don't you think such people represent a threat to our security?"
                                            mwisho, end, finito

"Wha'sa --hic-- Matter?" (part 1)

She sat in a straight-back chair near the doctor's desk in  his small office.  The doctor stood beside her in his white smock, holding a 3-foot steel ruler in his right hand at his side.  "Wha'sa --hic-- matter, madam?" he asked.  " 'Scuse the hic up . . . I needed a few shots of liquor to get ready after the nurse told me about --hic-- you . . ."
"I matter, I matter, people don't like me,but I matter --"
"Just calm down --hic-- ma'm, and don't worry about this --hic-- ruler, it's just for obstreperous patients, and you --hic-- don't understand that word, but if I have to pop you on your ample --hic-- butt, you'll quickly understand --"
"Doctor, I can't calm down, people who don't even know me, haven't even ever seen me, don't like me -- I matter, I matter . . ."

"Ma'm, you --hic-- ever thought of shutting your --hic-- mouth and keeping it shut?"
"I try, doctor,  but somebody look at me and my lips fly open and I start saying, 'I matter. I matter' . . .
"You can't force people to like you.  They may consider people like you as having no culture, as having low standards in education, music, books or most everything, and they think that all people who look like you are stupid and crazy and they don't want to be around any of you.  You ever try to walk by people without looking at them, as if your eyes were closed?"

"I tried, doctor, but almost got run over by some cars.  And I got caught up in a crowd of people protesting in the streets and ended up with them at some political rallies and --hic, hic, now you got me hiccing -- and at them rallies I was shouting 'I matter, I matter'.  I look in a mirror or show windows and start saying, 'I matter, I matter' --"
"Instead of saying 'I matter' you --hic-- ever try saying 'me matter'. or better still, 'me meat matter' . . .
                                       Part 2 (kesho, tomorrow, domani, mañana)

What In The Wor(L)D?

"What in the world is happening to our culture, doctor?"
"Concerning?"
"The words that we're now using in public.  For example, years ago 'pee' was considered vulgar.  One was taught to say 'urinate'."
"Doctors and nurses have been using 'pee' for quite some time, sir. Welcome to the real world."
"And it's gotten worse.  We used to look around carefully before we'd even whisper 'puty'."
" 'Putty'?  You mean that substance used in repair work?  What's wrong with saying that?"

"No, not 'putty', 'puty', just think of the title 'Dick And Jane.' "
"I still don't understand."
"Just think of the first word in the title by itself and what've you got?"
"Oh."
"We were told that 'penis' was proper, and even if you said it you had to be very careful, had to make sure some woman -- especially some elderly lady or empty-headed damsel -- wasn't within hearing distance."
"Now I understand.  When you say 'puty' you mean 'pussy'.  They've got this Rock group of young women in Russia called 'Pussy', had a big story about them in the newspapers here . . ."
"And when I saw that word in the newspapers here I couldn't believe my eyes.  And now they say that presidential candidate, Donald Trump, repeated the word after someone among his millions of fans used it."

"What's wrong with saying it?  It's the passageway that God formed to bring us into the world.  Are you saying that God should have formed another place in a woman's body for us to come out of, that you know better than God what God should have done?"
"Then say 'passageway', not 'pussy' . . . where's all this culture change gonna stop?"
"Time brings change, sir. makes much that we believe to be 'absolute' to be 'relative'.  If you said 'puty' to some women these days, they'd tell you, 'Piss off, Buster."

Incriminating Biscuits?

"Your Honor, my client pleads for leniency due to poor eyesight."
"Do you know this man's record?"
"Well, Your Honor, he lives in a high crime neighborhood."
"I do not believe that poor eyesight influenced him.  And before sentencing I want to impress on you and him the reason for the sentence I have selected.  In his first attempt he claims that that night in the poorly lighted street -- fortunately, we have police strategically placed in such areas -- he noticed this lady some fifteen or twenty feet ahead of him.  She had long, blond hair reaching to her waist and a big black purse hung from her left shoulder.  'Easy pickings,' he thought.  There were people around, but in his neighborhood people boasted of not snitching to police, and he started to run toward her.  When he reached her he snatched the purse with such force that she fell to the sidewalk, injuring her left collarbone.  One of our officers saw the shameless deed, but the woman turned out to be his mother wearing a blond wig and she refused to press charges.

"The second time, some months later, the scene was identical except the person wore those long false plaits hanging to her waist and carried a briefcase.  Again he ran forward, snatched the briefcase and was again apprehended by an alert officer.  But, again, the woman turned out to be his mama who refused to press charges.  The third time, he says that it was a haircut that confused him.  He said it was cut close to the scalp, a cut we associate with men in our society.  He just ran up behind him and put a choke hold on him and flung him -- who turned out to be a she, wearing jeans --  to the sidewalk.  And guess who it was?  That's right.  His mama.  Obviously, young man, in your neck of the woods there's much confusion over what coiffure is more suitable for the skull of your men and women.  An inferiority complex about one's hair must be quite an annoyance.  For at least different periods in your people's history there has been more emphasis on hair-do than language and education and teenage pregnancy.  Which brings me to another point.  I'm not authoritatively dictating what age a teenager or mature woman must be before becoming pregnant.  Now, young man, I'm not sure whether your tendency toward crime is a cultural  defect or lack of culture, but because you seem to have this criminal tendency with only your people -- especially your mama -- I'm sentencing you to move from that neighborhood and never again have anything to do with such people.  And, too, I think you subconsciously hate your mama.  Did she whip you when you were young?" "All the time, Your Honor." "So when she'd leave the house, like walking in your sleep, you'd follow her. Ever walk in your sleep when you were young?" "We used to keep some flour in a 20-gallon can and she used to wake me looking in it." "What were you looking for?"
 "Biscuits."

Afrikan American Youth And . . .

"What profession are you interested in -- notice, I said 'interested in', not 'studying for.' "
"I just want a job, I don't care what it is."
"What can you do?"
"Any thang."
"I mean what experience do you have?"
"Selling."
"Oh . . . what company have you worked for as a salesman?"
"Mostly I been self-employed."
"What do you sell -- wearing your britches with your butt showing like that?"
"Don't make no difference 'bout my britches, people jus' want marijuana, they don't care how um dressed."

"I like your frankness, so I'm gonna be frank with you.  Are you in school"
"Some."
"How old are you and what grade are you in?"
"Um seventeen and um in the ninth grade."
"I ask you these questions because we sell jewelry here and need to know the people working for us.  And I know Afrikan American youths only from what I see and hear from them on the streets and TV.  Frankly, I see most guys like you wearing their britches like you do, not much interested in education, usually carrying a basketball, but no books, and getting involved in rioting and looting and shooting each other, and always in trouble with the law --"
"I don't need no sermon and all that, I jus' want a job --"

"With an attitude like that and no education and no experience except selling marijuana and you expect someone to hire you?"
"That's right.  People always talking 'bout we Afrikan American youths ain' got no jobs, so um as'in for a job.  You gonna give me one or not?  I don't need all this damn drama . . ."
"I'm sorry, I don't have a job for you."
"You got a sign in the window say 'Salesman wanted', but you ain' give me no application or nothing -- and um leaving, but um coming back with a lawyer and we gon' sue you for racism!"

I'm In Charge

"Sir, are you questioning my expertise in judging a bad Muslim from a good Muslim.  Why would you insult my  childhood intelligence?  I graced Muslim school rooms in my childhood education.  Further, I would declare unequivocally that you make this criticism out of racism against me and Islam and at no time did you try to ascertain the true facts of my indelible, unquestionable experience in Islam.  I must reiterate that my experience and credentials in Islam are impeccable, sir . . ."

"Sir, my question was why you, a noted American politician, would scurry to a Mosque to express and demand love for Muslims and Islam when Muslims are cutting off Christians' heads and desecrating  and destroying Christian churches and cathedrals  and not one of your good Muslim politicos or Imams has gone to a church or cathedral in the Middle East to denounce anti-Christian violence and to protect them against the bad Muslims.  Are there no good Muslims in the Middle East who would support such a 'good' Muslim or Imam?"

"Sir, I remind you who is in charge here.  I'm in charge and this blatant criticism of me and Islam in this country is not only unwarranted and intolerable but borders on blasphemy --"
"What I'm saying, sir, is that your words and actions seem to express a much greater deference for not only Islam over Christianity but even casts a shadow over Israel in its defense against Muslim terrorists."
"Now, sir, I'm in charge here and you have bounded across the borders of decency.  I'm Israel's greatest friend and I refuse to continue with this calamitous interview.  Goodnight, and pray that God bless me and have mercy on any country when I'm in charge."

Get Your Head Outta . . .

"You look at these people and you listen to them, and you think, 'Are they civilized'?  In all the generations of our existence they haven't figured out who is the most influential person or persons misguiding us.  In the arms of our mothers we'r taken to this person before we can talk or walk or even wonder, 'When in the hell is somebody gonna explain to me what in the hell I've gotten myself into in this phenomenon called life'?  People say that when we're born we get hit  on the rump to awaken life in us.  Are they sure that it's not our head that they hit?  What if our head is in our rump and our rump is in our head?  That means that the moment that we're born they give us a concussion.

"Even the people who've been in charge of building and defending the U.S.A. and defending and modernizing countless other countries teach us, 'Get your  head outta your _ ss, boy'.  These days it's popular to talk about football, basketball, and other contact sports -- that's another thing, why do we have to pretty up everything?  'Contact sports' . . . 'smashing activity' is more accurate.  'Contact' means to get in touch with.  A  man and a woman get in 'contact', get in 'touch' in bed.  But in those 'smashing activities', sending somebody to paradise is not what they have in mind.  They're trying to send somebody's rump to  hell.  Which brings us back to the man who influenced us from birth, that peculiar preacher.  He's considered peculiar because he was formed, not knowing how to read or write, in a 'situation' called 'that peculiar institution'.  His 'brand' of preaching did not include teaching us a unique culture as preachers of other ethnic groups did their flock because we didn't have a culture -- and still don't.  He 'branded' us with a kind of 'hallelujah-misery' that taught us to squeeze our eyes shut, frown, play some rollicking piano, cut some hot dance steps while jumping over pews, throwing our heads back and screaming, 'Thank you, Jesus, thank you, Lord for giving us this game that we can use forever in protest marches to con white people out of green backs.' "

Iter, Iters, Itism

"We use iter, iters in the plural, and itism.  And I can't see my reflection in a mirror or a show window along a street without thinking, iter, iters, itism."
"To listen to your people nobody  would think that anyone who looks like you is an iter."
"It's widespread among people who look like me in countries like mine."
"What about scientists and doctors in these countries, how do they explain this natural system  of selection?"

"It's  not like here in the United States.  Here, people are more open about such things.  I saw this Hollywood actor on some TV station the other day talking about how prevalent complaints against it are here -- and no other countries are ever mentioned, as if the United States is the only country where it exists.  It has become accepted as so foul, and used so foolishly against anyone, that we changed it's name to 'itism,' sprucing it up with the word 'it' to escape being tarnished by it.  Even in our homes in countries where people look like me, they only use iter, iters, and itism."
"If you weren't telling me this I never would have believed that people like you were infected with it to that degree."
"It's all over the world, always has been and as long as people are free always will be -- although there're degrees of it."
"Someone once said that there're no degrees of it, that it's like someone saying that a woman is a little bit pregnant, but I say she's pregnant or she isn't."

"I disagree.  There're different stages to a full pregnancy.  It's like getting punched in the mouth in a fight and getting a few teeth knocked out or getting knocked down and the guy stomps your face in, smashes your ribs and breaks your arms.  One fight is worse than the other."
"So, in countries like yours, do people have itism to a lesser or worse degree than here?"
"Worse.  Because they come here and openly -- as your people do -- march in the streets recklessly accusing other people of discriminating against them, and they don't use 'itism' they use the word that the people here use.  Meanwhile, in countries like mine, they're  eliminating people like you by destroying their existence with silence and keeping them invisible until they disappear."

Symmetrically Speaking

"Can you read,sir?" the bartender asked the man.
The man removed the white, flat plastic, exposing the wide hole at  the top of his foot-long lips, the hole narrowing to a sharp point at his stomach.  "I have to take it out to speak a language," the man said.
"What is your language?" the bartender asked.
"Claps," the man said.  "Not as in STD, but as clapping the hands, similar to Morse code."
"I asked if you can read because of the name of this bar."
" 'NO UGLY PEOPLE BAR,'  right?"
"Right.  People are judged by their appearance, and I'm sure you've had experience with that."
"True.  In my tribe everybody looks like me, so no problem.  But here . . ."
"Do women in your tribe have lips like you?"

"Of course.  Except their disks are round at the bottom, like a half moon."
"How do you and your woman  kiss, take the disks out?"
"No.  We rub disk to disk, top and bottom.  It's beautiful."
"Well, I think beautiful or ugly can apply not only to physical appearance but to attitudes and acts.  I guess it depends on one's culture."
"If you think ugly attitudes and acts are a problem, try having a culture that starts you out  from birth in the western world with your lips growing around different sized disks until your lips are a foot long.  And once a standard has been set  up and accepted for centuries, trying to ignore it is like attempting to run up a seemingly endless hill and your old heart  is hissing with every step."

"It's not probable that you'll make it up that hill, so why bother.  By the way, you seem to be pretty well educated, how long have you been in our country?"
"Some missionaries brought me here to educate me when I was sixteen.  I've been here about fifteen years, and I'll be returning to my tribe soon . . . I feel more comfortable there with our standards of beauty."
"As we say in the NO UGLY PEOPLE BAR, 'Symmetry is masterful.'  So why waste time arguing with success?"

. . . just saying . . .

"It is our genius that writes the scripts, our genius that chooses the actors and the director, our genius that completes the film, and our genius that awards the premiums."
"That's my point.  I don't see no representation of me in the process."
"That's because you have nothing to do with it."
"But that's racism."
"It's our production, our business and responsibility.  Bring us a script that we believe we can make money on, but please, please, please, no more of that weeping and moaning racial crap or that juvenile shit of your people shooting one another . . ."

"What . . !"
" . . . just saying . . ."
"We write what we know about . . ."
"And that's your problem.  You folks have been in the entertainment business and wars all over the world for generations, have had vast experiences with people of different cultures, but haven't written any stories of those experiences.  You've been afraid  to venture out from that sickening, whining theme with the same ol' lyrics, 'You white people owe us, still discriminating against us.'  You people still don't have a culture.  Been free for over 150 years, a century and a half, and the best you've come up with for culture is attaching ropes to your hair and wearing your britches below your butts.  Actually, we can live without you folks, but you folks can't live without us "
"What . . !
". . . just saying . . ."

"We once tried to form a movie company, but we didn't know how to compete with you people.  So don't tell me that we scared to venture out."
"Jews, Italians, Irish, Chinese, Cubans, Mexicans, we all had to endure discrimination and racism, but we all had -- and have -- strong cultures and we built strong communities and created businesses.  You people -- in spite of all your whooping and hollering about 'black' this and 'black' that don't have a culture to build from."
"We had businesses and fairly peaceful communities, but had to give 'em up to integrate public places.  Now, if we go back to black communities -- filled with violence -- we'll be trying to patronize our own businesses and back in that damn, insulting segregation mierda . . .  and not 'just saying'."