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Crackpot Mailbox: Shep and James Discuss the Prospect that Dithering Uncle Joe May Soon Only Be Able to Pronounce Yo
© 2019 James LaFond
SEP/17/19
Mon, Sep 16, 5:26 PM (19 hours ago)
This old fart gets funnier every day:
He’s obviously been lying left and right throughout his entire life as a professional politician, but now that Old-timers disease is encroaching, he’s losing the ability to lie convincingly. That’s the kiss of death for an elected official. It’s actually kinda sad, like watching a big-league pitcher who’s losing velocity on his fastball. Soon every .240 hitter just up from the minors for a cup of coffee will be taking him over the left-field wall.
Shep
Shep, Sir, not being a follower of polutatics, I am not familiar with the specifics of the case. However, it is known that politicians are consistently only one thing, and that is liars. I empathize with your cynical empathy concerning this old veteran's fading powers. And might we both agree, that if Slick Willy is ever interviewed and fails to lie smugly and unconvincingly at the same time with a twinkle in his wry eye, I might shed a tear...
But, to the phenomenon of throwing old time ghost politicians under the bus for their former, real or deluded interactions with the Martyr Race, please consider the following. As late as 2010 I was the Ghetto Grocer, managing a predominantly Martyr staff of humanoid dysfunctionals. At that point, lo these nine years gone, Uncle Joe was considered the guarantee of Obama's promises to raise up the Martyr Race above their former ghostly oppressors. For Obama, despite their voting for him in droves, was not trusted by a single "black" man I spoke with at the time, who all saw him as a potential puppet for some "White Supremacy Conspiracy," despite being thrilled that someone that looked something like them was finally going to be the president. Note that not one of these "black" men saw him as being "The Man."
Say what?
I said it—just reread that lines above.
In the meantime most of my ebony employees saw me as their protector against my ebony assistant manager and the ebony security chief who functionally outranked me because his boss was fucking my boss. Additionally, every time an ebony employee was wronged by an ebony department head, they would appeal to me to save them from being "thrown under the bus." In fact, my ebony assistant, whose mission seemed to be to be the only Martyr Race occupant of the building and therefore accrue all of the Christ-Like empathy for his own advancement, would say, just before suggesting we fire an employee at the weekly meeting with the owners, "Not to throw anybody under the bus," in such a disingenuous tone that Duz and I would barely contain our snickers as a new martyr was proposed for the Ghostman's cruel cross.
Sure, about half of my ebon employees did not trust me to look out for them and believed I was the White Devil, but they did trust me to uphold standards of fairness and due process, because I was a ghost person, and that is our greatest socially demonstrable weakness, to be fair even when we are being played.
Since 1865, there has been a deep and troubled trust by people of Africa Descent in elevated members of the former Master Class to be fair adjudicators. This very likely stems from the habit of slaves in late stage Plantation America, most being African American by that time, jockeying for privilege in the Big House and in the Fields, ruled by absolute tyrants who were among the top 1% of European American humanity in terms of social power, and were also in a contest with each other to treat their slaves better than their neighbors, for the institution was becoming stigmatized to the point where European American and mixed-race slaves were hidden on rural portions of the estate, sold down river to backwoods slave owners, or freed or passed off as family members.
Then, in Reconstruction, you had European Americans from the most powerful segments of the Old Southern Gentry and Progressive Union Carpetbaggers competing for African American loyalty. This process of powerful ghost Americans alternately pandering to, demeaning, lying to, threatening and even worshipping African Americans on the national stage has evolved into a deep psychological web in the African American population, which has been by this process retarded and prevented from becoming a community, being unable to define themselves without reference to the Whiteman.
No race has been so enslaved in its collective consciousness to another group's will or in it's own self-image, than the African American Mongrel, which is by definition a quarter European, long severed by an ocean, the fickle winds of mongrelization and the uncaring tides of Time from it's own identity.
I came to this realization through working closely with hundreds of such people, who were unable to conceptualize their place in the world without reference to people of European Descent. Even militant Black Muslims, who hate us as devils, define themselves on a daily basis according to their pained vision of us and our perceived ancestral misdeeds.
So, my sense is that the democratic politicians of the years between 1965 and 2015 were compelled to play the role of the Old Southern Patriarch in support of the Great Society programs instituted under an old southern gentleman, LBJ. Conversely, since the ascent of the irreverent Trump, who does not seemed inclined to worship African Americans as a martyr race but rather treat them like any other bipedal economic unit of opinion, that these very same democratic masters and mistresses of the yet-shackled slave mind have switched to the role of carpetbagger in this latest effort at reconstruction.
This process all stems from the great lie of 1865, that only negroes were ever held in cruel bondage by "whites," which was a nation-building myth tied with the notion of Manifest Destiny, intended to motivate the sons of freed European American slaves to take up the cause of their fathers' oppressors and bear arms across the continent and around the world in the name of America, to serve the will of internationalist banking and industry.
So, here we stand at the beginning of the end of American Time, a nation unable to define itself in terms other than it's relation to African American anger engendered by the greatest and whitest lie ever sold.
Just as pathetic as the mongrel race whose members are incapable of defining themselves and their kind in terms other than their relationship to a more successful group, is the nation incapable of defining itself in terms other than its relationship to its least successful demographic.
Does such a house of, mislead, abused and deluded step-children and orphans have any place in the uncaring future?
The Greatest Lie Ever Sold
The Foundation of Our Misbegotten Nation
Plantation America E-Books
plantation america
‘Were Indian Women Armed?’
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winter of a fighting life
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triumph
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uncle satan
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taboo you
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sons of arуas
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honor among men
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sorcerer!
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the greatest boxer
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