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‘A Frustrated White Man’
Richard Jewell, the Movie by Clint Eastwood
Imagine, caring more than most the people around you about the people around you, than they do.
Also imagine not being as smart, as sharp as most of these folks.
Imagine being a polite man in a rude world.
Imagine all of the times you would get screwed by smarter, ruder, non-empathetic people who cared about nothing greater than themselves.
Imagine being fired by a college dean for enforcing his campus policy, of no drinking alcohol in dorms.
Then imagine, that despite all of this bad luck, you end up getting a job as a rent-a-cop in the shadow of real cops, and happen upon a backpack pipe bomb while telling some punks that they can't break bottles at the Olympic Park in Georgia of 1986, and that you actually become a hero by saving the lives of witless partiers and even cops.
Then the largest criminal cartel in the United States, the Frustrated Bag of Idiots, decides to go with the profile of the 'frustrated white man,' despite having no evidence of your guilt.
Imagine then, that a hot, slut reporter blows an FBI agent behind a bar in Atlanta and gets him to moan your name and that you then become the Bubba Bomber, a fool and a bad guy all in one.
Why did this happen?
Because the College Dean called the PIGs and pointed a finger at your dumb ass.
Then imagine, that a prick of a lawyer who you used to bring candy bars to at the Small Business Administration when you were a certified loser, takes your case because his cute Russian paralegal tells him that in her country any time the government says they have an open and shut case on someone, it means he is innocent…
The story of Richard Jewell is so pertinent today, when millions of Richard Jewells are in danger of losing their jobs, being divorced by their wives, being burned alive in their houses or executed in the street for the crime of having voted for The Orange Man. The media mob and the criminal law injection system, which are currently playing their good cop-bad cop routine, in such bad faith, are exposed for the rancid Hel-bound cankers of sub-humanity that they are in this masterpiece of filmmaking by the only Hollywood person currently permitted to record reality, Clint Eastwood. The Atlanta newspaper reporter, who could not write a lick but sucked a hundred police dicks is only a surprise in the fact that she was morally superior to the PIGs whose semen she drank in rivers in order to get her news scoops. The Fatty Bitches of Insinuation were exposed as the real criminals that they are.
Now imagine, that after your dumb, caring, government-believing ass is raked over the coals by the wytchfinders and inquisitors of your age, and you finally get acquitted and go onto your assigned doom in 2007, that seven years after that, the best filmmaker in the world takes up your case and presents it for posterity.
How lucky can an infamously fat boy get?
That lucky.
What a good movie.
What a rotten country.
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roo_sterJan 16, 2021

I saw the movie when it first came out. You described it to a tee. It is a cinematic gut punch, especially for those who have not yet been redpilled on the nature of law enforcement officers and agencies.
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