7/12/20

Much appreciated, James

Your response is a white pill in the midst of despair. I’m an optimist on the micro level, but a pessimist on the macro; your response helps to improve my outlook on the macro a bit.

By the way, you’re on a roll today with your posts…

I found myself nodding in violent agreement with Affrighted Man Affronted God.

I have recently come to similar conclusions about Magna Carta and the role of kings as protectors of the people. When people ask me where my politics lie, I often respond that it all went to shit around 1066. Been degrading ever since then (although apparently through some family names on the Irish side, I’m related to some of those Norman bastards).

Let’s face it, politics has made no difference to those of us who have had to work for a living, only insofar as to make things worse.

When people go on about the Queen over here and abolishing the monarchy, I do defend her. Mainly on the basis that she’s in her position thanks to the fact that her ancestors were meaner nastier bastards than our ancestors were – and they’ve had about 1000 years to take the edge off. Of course, they’re still mean nasty bastards, they just hide it better, and I suspect if our paths don’t cross, then I would never get to find out first-hand.

If we were to get rid of her maj, whatever replaces her becomes the new mean nasty bastard. And history always tells us that the new mean nasty bastard tends to make everyone’s life hell.

Kind of like what happened to the Romanovs. According to some, Tsar Nicholas II believed in that old school style of monarch as defender of the people against the oligarchs. Of course, this led to Wall Street funding the Bolsheviks to take care of him. (I think he is now a saint in the Russian Orthodox Church*.) And we see how that turned out.

Anyway, keep up the good work. Loving it.

Cheers,

James the Other

*The Orthodox have been known to saint some of their great warrior kings and the Montenegrins had some warrior monks running their country for the longest time. Pretty cool stuff.

James, the real purpose of democracy is to set up the tyrant as the boogie man as the oligarchs rule from the shadows like a coven of OZs.

Anyone who has read history outside of school text books and WWII, which I suppose is somewhere under a million Americans, knows that the King is chosen by God to protect the people from evildoers, who are always far smarter than the people. People being shitty, 2 in three kings will be retards or rapacious, but roughly every third monarch [and never the queen] will be benign. When you keep in mind that 100% of oligarchs are evil, this is not so bad.

So let’s go to the real saviour, not the hereditary king but the tyrant, his granddaddy. In ancient Greece tyrants were a crap shoot, opportunistic dirt-bags or liberators. George Washington was invited to become king, and in so doing could have reigned as tyrant and then selected his most worthy successor. But he was a man of his word, not a traitor to his class, and he had promised the other oligarchs to keep common cause against the common man, and threw us back into the slave pens. Every militia man who had been a slave before the war below the Potomac, was disarmed and put back in bondage after 1783. Those who fled to Ohio and drafted the Northwest Ordinance, barring slavery, were betrayed by the Unites States Congress in 1787 when slavery became once again the law of all the land.

Westward expansion in the U.S. would be fuelled largely by white flight from slavery, slavery of whites and slavery of their replacements who hounded the white man out of work wherever he was planted by his master to kill the wage economy.

Now, as the Orange Man, a traitor to his class, teeters on his paper throne in a crooked celebrity-based bid to be a small-case king, the punishment to his supporters on behalf of the oligarchs is and will continue to be brutal on the psychological level, with every man in some states of a formerly Christian land being branded a criminal unless he wears a hijab of some sort like an obedient Muslim woman.

It is currently against the law to appear outside of your house in Pennsylvania without a face covering.

So what is in that white pill?

I see it as the gift of Reality, which the rampant War on Reality waged by the media, has exposed as they overplay their noxious hand.

So long as we believed that:

-The police protect and serve

-That all men are equal before the law

-That the media reports reality

-That rights exist

-That God wants us to kneel and submit to men

-That women are morally superior to men

-That only one race was ever enslaved

-That guilt is anachronistic and holy

-That liberty is freedom

So long as we believe these foundational lies of this sick and twisted abomination of a nation, than we are bound in the web of The Deceiver. But as these lies come crashing down with the statues of a past age and the sweet, bright carrot of America, that young Americans can have it better than their parents, has clearly turned into a rotten turnip, Reality dawns once again from the Night of the Fantasy of Right. With the spawn of the vile boomer generation now bound, orphaned and sacrificed on the altar of their traitor parent’s manicured lawns, McMansions and “Golden Years,” we can, if we choose to ignore the bread and circuses of Maskland, make our own lives free of the delusion of collective goodness.

A wolf age is nearly upon us.

While American conservatives whine over the their guardian police angels being cast out of media heaven, the heathen grins at the opportunity to put his own boot on the neck of the inferior who has struck out from under the protection of the police state since 1968.

As the American liberals cheer the demolition of the anti-ebony police state in favour of the anti-ivory police state, they forget that they are now the caricatured targets of the bullies of their new order, not only subject to the sheepdogs like sheep with barred necks, but to the wolves they have insisted range unrestricted. The heathen grins with glee over the prospect in his dark mind’s eye of seeing ivory tower types sodomized by police batons, their shrill harpy mates raped by Bantu primates!

Yes, I would stop on the sidewalk and watch, never thinking to lend a hand. I have done so before and will do so again.

In Baltimore City, every BLM-signed house is filled with defenceless, liberals and their soft spawn. When I stand at Sensei Steve’s house across the street from White Guilt Mansion and see the BLM signs, I snarl with anticipation, for End Days that will see me walking freely by with pimp cane in hand while that guilty sissy and her sissy majesty are dragged out of their moral fort of delusion into the brutal world of forced inclusion.

Wherever I am when the white, guilty, sissy America that has hated me since I was a boy, falls prey to my life-long enemies of ebony hue—who have at least honoured me with hundreds of challenges to combat and attempts at ambush and overrun, and have donated some of their slutty wenches for my entertainment—and have hence named me a man and not some cock-sucking kneeler, wherever I am when the soft, pale worshippers of the ebon gods are dragged from their homes by dusky hands, or stuffed into vans by cops named Diaz and Larbi, I will taste the air and know that the Grey God is that much closer to awakening, and breathing into life with his bitter gales of breath, a reaper, a tyrant, a King.