M: The shifting paradigms of the last ten years or so have me looking at things and seeing people who I remembered as a kid in a different way. The lies I was told for the express purpose of pushing a zeitgeist meant to cause me and mine harm and exploitation is far more insidious than any dystopian novel or sci-fi film. One demon from the past who increasingly makes more and more sense when he speaks is the Minister Louis Farrakhan. Like Chuck D from Public Enemy said, “don’t tell me that you understand, until you hear the man,” a line I mocked for years now coming back to haunt me as I listen to him make sense about Hillary, Trump, and many other issues. I am no fool. The man is not my ally, but I can separate that from when someone makes sense and not for the wrong reason.
He really took Qaddafi’s betrayal, rape and death personally and went after Obama with harsh words. It might be why I don’t hear his name mentioned as much anymore on black R&B stations when they start chatting about political stuff, an exercise in patience to be sure.
To sum it up, he does not see globalism as his friend, unlike too many African Americans or African-Canadians or African-Britishers or whatever the hell you call them.
What do you make of Farrakhan and the broader topic of how surreal it is to find yourself agreeing with America’s Rogues gallery from the previous century?
Note: (James is almost finished with the bag of Mac’s Red Hot pork rinds, his wastebasket filling up
with crushed Natty Boh cans…helped by yours truly of course!)
J: Farrakhan to me is a blast from the gastronomic past. I don’t want to gross you out with any more fat bitch stories, so we will skip the part about being addicted to bean pies. Suffice it to say that I found myself estranged from the Maker of Bean Pies. Now, in Baltimore the only reliable source of bean pies are the bow-tied disciples of the Honorable, Reverend Louis Farrakhan. But there is a problem with this, every black vendor of the white bean pie keeps a special stack of pies for the patronizing dollar of Whitey, upon which they have spat.
How to get my bean pies without the extra sauce? Although these men sell bean pies for a profit, they sell more important wares outside of the Lexington Market. I approach the Honorable Reverend’s representative and did not enquire as to the pies. The man towered over me. He looked at me and I said “I’d like a paper.” Besides him was a collapsible newsstand. He looked at me with disdain and reached to the next-to-the-bottom shelf, where resided The Baltimore Sun.
I snarled at him, “I said I wanted a paper!”His eyes lit up. His big hand crept up one shelf to rest upon the Afro-American Times, published over on Light Street across from the martial arts supply place. He looked at me expectantly and I looked up at him coldly and said. “I wan’t your paper.”
He nodded with respect and brought his hand up to the
top shelf of his collapsible newsstand and placed his hand upon the copy of The Final Call. I took it and he said you get a bean pie with that, brother.”
I rejoined, “In that case, I’ll take three more papers.”
He gave me four papers and four bean pies, never touching the ‘Whitey’bean pies on the shelf underneath The Baltimore Sun.
Having gone to great expense to buy my bean pies, I decided to read what I had bought and found, to my surprise, that the first two sections of every article [newspaper articles are written in a three section format] were the most unbiased and accurate news stories available in print. The final third section of each story featured Farrakhan’s commentary and was designated as such. The staff writer would hand-off the article so that the reader knew they had been teleported into the Realm of Big-Headed Yakub, where he would wax biblical about the white devils and the Mother Ship. The point is, he understood how news was used to lie and actually produced straight news, upon which it was easier to erect his fantastical super structure, there being no need to deconstruct the competing lies of the white establishment.
Farrakhan is sitting on more hard information than the editor in chief of any magazine or newspaper, because twisting the news is his purview, his underlings not being vested with responsibility of pre-twisting the narrative points in accordance with editorial expectations as are the lackeys of white establishment papers. It was inevitable with the death of his associates overseas that he would crack and actually start presenting a straight narrative and still sound like a crackpot.
M: Seeing him and Alex Jones warmly greeting each other seems to make more sense in view of current events, hucksters who nonetheless have discovered that it’s not really all about selling the snake oil, bean pies and dick juice. How bout we focus on his departed comrade, the late Colonel Qadaffi?
Growing up he was portrayed as an almost cartoonish, buffoon villain. Now a lot of that was deserved, he was quite a flamboyant character. But his warnings about the conduct of certain entities are chilling to be sure. His death was quite brutal and the actions of NATO were quite dishonorable and patently opportunistic. The guy was one of the major barriers for Europe against the threat of sub-Saharan invasion. Look at the NATO countries now under threat from so called refugees. Bashar Assad was to suffer the same fate until a certain strong and charismatic leader stepped in and almost singlehandedly stopped that.
What are some of your thoughts on Qaddafi and the Obama Era Middle East shenanigans?
J: When Qaddafi shook hands with the Wicked Witch of the Left he seemed to have rested assured that his status as straw boogieman of the American Imperium and the cork that stopped up the African jug of a billion savage genies had been confirmed, as if his Reagan Era passport was going to be accepted by the globalists. I believe that Qaddafi was removed for the very reason that he thought he would be retained as the African bottle-stopper. With the American globalists having discovered that they could destabilize any American city by using the media to incite the Dindu mob, it became obvious to them that all they needed to do to bring civilization to its pale knees was import 50 million more negroes. What Qadaffi thought would save him got him killed.
M: I love how they blame Assad for the so- called “Syrian” refugees because he would not relent to foreign rebels that the US supplied. Blame the Russians too. I never thought I would have respect for guys like Assad, Saddam, Putin just a few years ago. Are they nice pleasant sun-shiny rainbow guys? Of course not.
However I see in them the remnants of historical masculinity, for better or worse facing off against a giant, insane overweight hive queen/tranny who wears the American flag as a
thong. As nauseating as that imagery is, it pales to the real nausea I feel when I pass a telescreen in a public place, hearing poorly constructed lies and feminine shrieking and pearl clutching emanating at all hours.
Do not ask for whom the bell tolls, Motherfucker!
On that note, we’re out! See ya soon!
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Dear Black People, If A Race War Ever Broke Out Whites Would ANNIHILATE YOU! #UDONTWANTIT