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When the Buck Stops Nere
Bran Mak Sworn, a New Cryptoblogger, Relates a Tale from His Mini Harm City


Yesterday, I was working during the 4th and the local populace had been setting off fireworks since 10 a.m.! Myself and two coworkers were standing outside enjoying the sights and sounds, dressed in our utility uniforms. This was 8 p.m., to give you some idea how long these people had been lighting off fireworks.

After a particularly loud firework explosion I looked off to my left and noticed an obviously agitated, late 20's early 30's 5ft8 200ish pound prime African buck walking up the sidewalk wearing shorts, a tank top, and ear phones. Normally I would take a step back to allow them the right away and to give myself some space should things suddenly go south, but being in a sour mood and now having immersed myself in the Lafond Aggression Archives I decided to stay put and let him walk around me.

As he approached us he took a wide berth and suddenly spouted "ya motherF**ckers need to stop acting like cops and let them peeps have a good time for reals shiiiiit" Having been educated in the Lafond ways I simply watched and kept my mouth shut while my co workers in unison go "Dude, we aren't cops."

Having passed us by two paces at this point, the buck stopped, spun on his heels, began flexing and pumping "what you say bitch, I told you to leave them peeps alone ma f**kers what" Nervously my co workers chuckle and shake their heads "I don't know what your talking about."

Interestingly both of these guys are military veterans, one of whom has a legitimate kill record from his time overseas and to my utter astonishment I watch the one actually turn his back to the buck, and the other look away down the street. Keep in mind this guy was only two paces away!

As for myself I turned to square up with our newfound victim of our apparel association, drag stepped to the right to put myself in line with the moron who turned his back and slid my hand in my pocket for my own belt loop attached 3in sheathed dagger.

While my co workers laughed nervously and fidgeted, our victim flexed some more, muttered something incoherent and began to slowly back away with a "what, what" After several paces he turned and shouted more obscenities and then went on his merry way.

Once back safely inside, my co workers lamented to our other coworkers that "this dude outside was messed up" and " we didn't know what his problem was." Meanwhile I was simply glad to have a meat shield ready and willing should anything have gone awry and yet again saddened at the state of masculine affairs.

James' Commentary

Bran, as much as I'd also dislike the flexing Dindu, he at least—despite his no doubt emasculated upbringing—can at least perceive threat cues. Robert E. Howard wrote about this in his Kane and Kirby Smith stories, that acceptance of civilization disables white men and necessitates contact with the less-civilized races to get in touch with our original purpose and function as men.

You white devil, you rained on that boy's cracker crumbling parade!

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LaManoJuly 5, 2017 3:05 PM UTC

It all came out OK and good on yer for standing your ground, but "being educated in Lafond ways" includes thinking ahead to the interview with the cops downtown.

If the mumbling African pulled a knife, then it's sort of your skills and motivation against his and the best man will win. But if he just comes at you with his hands swinging, and you cut him with a concealed sheath knife, YOU'RE going to be the one in trouble (not the one in the hospital, but still the one in trouble), even if the witnesses are all on YOUR side for once, instead of the typical JL Harm City scenario where your opponent's buddies are all suddenly innocent bystanders swearing through a two-inch plank that you ambushed him with a snickersnee from behind ....

Hands/Stick/Knife/Gun .... gotta know when it's time, when it's the place, when it's worth it, and be prepared to take the long-term consequences ....

Thanks for the experience, though ...