Profile This...

The Scene: A local coffee shop, this past Thursday morning.

Your favorite Lunatic has just sat down to read the menu, knowing full well that no matter what is on it he will order his "usual" -- two over easy, sausage and bacon, home fries, wheat toast, orange juice and coffee -- when he becomes aware of a conversation at another table not 5 feet away.

"Becomes aware" is a polite way to put it. Actually, the two young men engaged in this conversation (it was more like a monologue with one man haranguing the other who could do little more than shake his head, occasionally mutter "word!", "I heard that!" or "I feel you, Brother!") were speaking loud enough to wake the dead.

It became apparent, from both the tone of the conversation and it's subject matter, that this was done on purpose -- that is to say, that the subject was being brought up loudly and obnoxiously so that others in the coffee shop would be made to feel uncomfortable.

That's because the two men speaking were black, and the majority of the clientele was white.

YAY! I'm A Minority Now!

Depending upon which Flapping Rectum you believe on television, Mitt Romney lost the election for a variety of reasons, many of them esoteric, many arcane, a few more technical, but in any case, not exactly clear to anyone with enough sense to keep from sticking their wet genitalia into the nearest, convenient electrical outlet.

It doesn't seem as if anyone who is supposed to be 'in the know' about American politics can actually give you an answer to this simple question:

How did Mitt Romney lose this election to a complete and utter retard, backed by an even bigger retard (Joe Biden), surrounded by drooling doofuses who can't as much as answer a question truthfully (Susan Rice, Hillary Clinton, Eric Holder, Janet Napolitano, Tim Geithner, etc.), running on a platform of absolutely ZERO accomplishments, saddled with a bad economy and $16 trillion debt, an expansion of the Wars in the Middle East, and a sense of total confusion so thick you couldn't cut it with a chainsaw?

Obama "Used Up All The White Guilt..."

Social Darwinism is on the way. It is inevitable, and it's going to be messy, because apparently one side in this coming Survival-of-the-Fittest fight is totally unprepared, and unwilling, to pull it's own weight.

Probably because it has been conditioned to operate in an environment that will no longer exist once the truth of the national finances is finally told, and the unavoidable austerity measures kick in.

If this article is even halfway true, the African-American community is truly fucked when the Federal Budget cutting begins, because it's apparent that without a lavishly-funded, supported by guilt, 'System' to both decry and exploit simultaneously, many black folks left to their own devices are probably going to starve or die of rickets.

With any luck, Je$$e Jackson will be first.

H/T The Big Feed Blog

Back From Vacation...

Just got back from a three-day getaway with the lovely Tess to the open cesspit that is Atlantic City, New Jersey, a town of marked contrasts, part slum, part Las-Vegas-wannabe, cheesy, second-rate little sin bin for the middle class with no class.

Here's the highlights, which I know you were all just dying to know:

Diversity Training Is Bullshit...

I've always said so, and now here's yet another article which bears this out.

Unfortunately, We're Not Allowed To Shoot Them On Sight

As the three regular readers of this insane screed know, I watch entirely too much television. I usually watch "the good stuff", that is to say, documentaries, History Channel, Fox News, Discovery this-that-and-the-other, and my fave hit series on HBO and stuff (Yay! Game of Thrones is back!).

But ever since I began co-habitating with the lovely Tess Trueheart (a.k.a. my girlfriend) my television viewing habits have been radically altered. For Tess is a devotee of the genre of programming called "Reality Television".

Personally, if this is what reality looks like then something is seriously wrong with America. So wrong, in fact, that one begins to have -- against one's best judgement, too -- feelings that the old-style Progressives (you know, the ones who advocated euthanasia and forced sterilization of "inferior" people?) might just have had a point, after all.

But..It's for the Children...

Rochester, NY 13-year-old retaliated against by teachers, administrators, forced to go to another school, after writing essay critical of her so-called Educational Experience.

This is what happens when you unionize baboons, overpay them, and then give them tenure.

Why Do We Want More of These People Here, Again?

Oh, right....so that they can vote democrat, justify the existence of the Welfare State, and destroy the Middle Class by undercutting wages, and undermine the foundation of civility we have in this country, so as to make increased government interference in our lives necessary.

Mexican Drug Gangs force captives to fight to the death in gladiatorial combat.

Note the source of this report: a British Newspaper. This would never appear in an American newspaper, where the left-wing bias is so evident it practically jumps off the front page and smacks you in the face.

If this is what 'diversity' brings us, then fuck diversity. Keep these people on their side of the fucking fence, already.

'Mexican' is the new 'Jihadi'. Animals.

In Defense of the Right to Offend...

Mark Steyn belongs on Mt. Rushmore. Click on the links contained within to gain the full context of the rather impenetrable stupidity on display all over the world, and then ask yourself this question:

How is it that the Western World, the culture that has invented just about everything that is useful or enriching, that fostered the spirit of unfettered free inquiry, ensconced in Law the principle of the fundamental rights of all Men, which first harnessed and then unleashed the energy that makes modern life possible and sustainable, has fallen to this astoundingly low level of petty argument within itself, about it's own validity, accomplishments and worth?

Probably because we live in an age where people freely claim the pretense to an intellect, but possess none of it's actual tools. A steady diet of Post-modernism and multiculturalism will do that to you, you know.

There is no progress, in any sense or meaningful way, without the ability to ask questions -- and thus find answers -- which will eventually offend someone on some level. Offense is a necessary evil if society or science is to ever evolve to another, perhaps freer, more honest, more inclusive, and higher stratum. One is left to wonder just what has been left undiscovered, unexamined, unsaid because someone who would have discussed, examined, or discovered was kept from the initial impulse by the thought "Better not go there; someone might be offended"?

Why is it necessary to punish people who speak things that others don't like? Why is it necessary for people to find ever more ways to whine and wear the mantle of victimhood, even when they have no call to? Why have we divided ourselves by race, sex or sexual preference, religion, political leanings or economic class? When will all the fucking snivelling end? And when can we get back to kicking ass and taking names as a Culture?

I'm reminded of a famous speech, uttered by one of the most offensive people to ever walk the Earth, if the history books are to be believed:

"I am Theoprastus, and greater than those to whom you liken me; I am Theophrastus, and in addition, I am monarcha medicorum and I can prove to you what you cannot prove...I need not don a coat of mail or buckler against you, for you are not learned or experienced enough to refute even a word of mine...As for you, you can defend your kingdom with belly-crawling and flattery. How long do you think this will last? Let me tell you this: every little hair on my neck knows more than you and all your scribes, and my shoe buckles are more learned than your Galen and Avicenna, and my beard has more experience than all your high colleges..."

Who said that?

Why, it was none other than Phillipus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim, better known to history as Paracelsus. Who was Paracelsus? He was a chemist, botanist, mathematician, astrologer, theologian, doctor, Ur-psychologist and all-around Royal Pain in the Ass (some believe, wrongly, that his name was the origin of the English word 'Bombast') who invented the modern science of toxicology, and who is one of the Fathers of modern pharmacology and medical diagnostics.

Who was he berating? The medieval medical profession (the Doctors of Physic) of his day who still believed that disease was either caused by an imbalance of 'humors' that could be treated with bloodletting, sweating or purging (which often killed the patient in the process), or who were still attached to the superstitious Christian belief that diseases were the just rewards of a sinful life.

It almost sounds like ObamaCare.

Paracelsus drove his opponents crazy. Many thought him insane (and if you ever read about his life, he just might have been). He was ostracized, attacked, stripped of his posts, bankrupted, persecuted, publicly vilified and humiliated...and he was also RIGHT. He suffered because he dared to speak a truth -- actually, many truths -- that offended, well... basically everyone; the members of his profession, the Church, the Universities of Europe, the Rich and the Powerful.

He died penniless and discredited, an itinerant doctor travelling all over Europe -- on foot -- experimenting, treating the sick and injured for the sake of his belief that he was put on this Earth for just that purpose. He left his few remaining possessions (one legend has it these consisted of his writings, a cloak, and a pair of boots) to the poor. His reputation as a thoroughly disagreeable, arrogant, obnoxious -- and most offensive man -- meant that his methods and discoveries would be denied to medical science for many years after his death by his quite considerable number of intellectual, religious and scientific enemies.

The point? Just because you don't like the messenger, just because you don't like the message, it doesn't necessarily follow that either is wrong, and the message certainly should not go unexamined because it offended someones tender sensibilities, or threatened someones rice bowl. Even a really stupid idea presented by a complete asshole can sometimes reveal some drop of wisdom, if you can manage to strip away the bullshit and keep your feelings in check long enough to examine it.

Truth is truth -- even if it's delivered with a four-letter word, a racial slur, bad joke, or a gratuitous insult -- real or perceived -- attached to it.

All this sensitivity bullshit is leading us towards a less-cohesive, rather than a more-inclusive, society. This will slowly chip away at our veneer of civility and the bonds of friendship, and ultimately destroy what few notions of freedom and democracy -- you know, the remaining freedoms that haven't already been bastardized and destroyed by illiberal Liberals already -- that we might have left.

I really fear to live in such a world, and not only because it will be either really, really boring or exceedingly violent, but because it will be intellectually, artistically and spiritually sterile. What remains of Life after such a thing occurs would be hardly worth living, because the basic right of expression will have been excised from it. No exchange of ideas, no arguments, no jokes, no books, no trade, no art, no music.

All human endeavor would stop right in it's tracks, out of fear of giving offense and the retribution that follows.

"Princess Boys"...

This is what happens when you treat your children as a fashion accessory,or project your unfulfilled dreams and aspirations upon them, and you encourage behavior in them for the purposes of writing a freakin' book, because that's easier than working for a living.


You are not a parent; you are a little girl playing at Barbie Dolls...with Penises. Which, I'm led to understand that Barbie's supposedly-hetero-male counterpart, Ken, does not have.

Now, does letting your son wear a dress and forcing him to take ballet classes against his will for your own personal edification produce a well-adjusted child?

Take a look at the potential future mayor of Chicago, and you tell me.

But, I digress...

feel sorry for this little boy, because he obviously has a mother who is a dumbass, and one is left wondering "Where the fuck is this kid's father?", and, "Why hasn't he smacked the shit out of his Baby Momma yet?"

Now, kids go through phases; we all know this. It's quite possible this child will outgrow his passion for pink and purple frilly things. I certainly hope that he does, but it's going to be difficult when his mother is a pretentious moron with a political agenda, and less native intelligence than one normally associates with a garden snail. She's found herself a Golden Goose in our therapeutic culture, and one gets the impression that we have another ersatz "expert" in the making; you know, those people the newsdouches turn to for answers to obscure questions on obscure subjects that no one wants answered, but that some idiot producer thinks would make an awesome "human interest" story.

"Mom" is in the process of making a career for herself out of her child's idiosyncracies. In any context except within the touchy-feely world of the drum-circle-diversity-inclusion industry, this would be called "exploitation".

Watching this video, it's obvious that the mother is little more than this kid's puppet master: she has to encourage the kid to speak (almost like she's giving him permission to do so) when Meredith Viera (damn that woman still looks good after all these years) asks him a question, and then usually ends up answering it for him. Edgar Bergen was a rank amateur compared to this doofus, who should be taken out and shot for the rankest and most egregious child abuse.

Seriously, if your boys are wearing dresses, and it ain't for the school play, or a Halloween costume, and they're above the age of 3; you've got a problem.

Normal parents who recognize their child has a problem take them to doctors, or take corrective action on their own. They don't write look-at-me books and go on the Today Show.

(H/T JammieWearingFool).

...And Since We're Talking About Diversity Training...

A few readers want to know just what kind of vile human being I must be in real life to have had so many experiences with Diversity Training (see: passing mention in previous post). They figure I must be the worst sort of racist/sexist beast, and openly wonder how it is that I've ever kept a job if how I write is how I behave in real life.

To begin with, I have been "sent" to Diversity Training four (4) times.

The first time, it was "required" by management as part of a company-wide policy, itself the result of a series of lawsuits. One of those lawsuits was brought about by members of my own staff, who contended that working in our department subjected them to a "hostile working environment" in which minorities were denied access to higher-skilled (and thus higher-paying) jobs, subjected to racist/sexist humor, and otherwise made to feel "uncomfortable". These complaints were directed mostly at higher management, not me, personally, and were presented as a form of "institutional racism" that direct supervisors (like me) were powerless to overcome, even by direct action. Never mind that the plaintiffs were all, almost to a man, routinely late for work, unprofessional, and on the lower end of the competency scale.

The argument was that it was the COMPANY itself that was racist, not the individuals who worked for it (it's difficult to pin anything on an individual in a court of law without evidence, and only hearsay on your side, you see, so you have to attack The Institution), and that the "racist" policies and tendencies of this inanimate, unconscious, ambiguous, amorphous entity have become part of the overall "culture". So, I was sentenced -- along with the 16,000 or so other people who worked there -- to mandatory Diversity Training. It was a 16-hours-over-two-days tour-de-force of absolute bullshit, where the overriding theme was that "You White-Christian-Male-Straight-Guys are the absolute worst excuses for human beings ever documented...but you don't mean to be, really."

If you've never disliked people before, listen to that kind of crap for two days and then you most certainly will be disgusted by just about everyone.

The Second Time, was when I made the mistake of responding to a vile tirade of a female co-worker by getting just as obnoxious as she did. This particular person was infamous for her foul language and off-color humor and peculiarly-sexual comments, especially about how nice my ass looked to her, and what she'd like to do with me if she ever got me alone. She didn't even make any of that a secret; she would often yell it across several rows of cubicles to me, and everyone got a chuckle out of it (especially the gay guys). It was never a problem between us to trade in these heated-one-day/good-natured-the-next/naughty-all-the-time exchanges, but there was always a healthy respect; a recognition that there were, indeed, boundaries that should not be crossed.

Until she came at me one day like a menstrual banshee for some piece of work important to one of her projects that I was going to be, unavoidably, late with. Then the good-natured-foul-mouthed ribbing became a dressing down of my inadequacies as a human being. To which I replied:

"Take it easy, Jean...Don't get your tits in a knot."

Now the woman who openly remarked about my bodily features and sexual desirability was suddenly mortally offended by my reference to hers. In my defense, though, she did have an awesome rack. Anyways, off to an 8-hour "refresher" course in Diversity for me. I only stayed employed because Jean was known to use the foulest, coarsest language, and to comment frequently and loudly on the looks of the men in the office. That cost me a bonus that year, too.

The third experience was another "mandatory" situation; I would have to complete the Diversity Course as a requirement of employment. It didn't matter that I had two previous "Training" sessions; they didn't count so far as XYZ Corp was concerned because it wasn't their Diversity Course. I spent more time in that classroom than I did working there, because it wasn't long after that my contract was cancelled when the project I was hired to work on was no longer considered necessary. That particular session was a laugh riot, because there were several Hispanic employees in the room complaining that they couldn't get promotions because they weren't native English-speakers.

The "instructor" in that cluster-fuck, herself Hispanic, would sometimes have to switch to Spanish in order to explain a concept to someone who couldn't understand it in English. You can't make this shit up.

My final experience with Diversity Training came when I had a black male employee complain to me that he was not considered for a job (I had hired another person, a black woman, no less), and that he felt that in not giving him the job, I was a racist, showing a definite bias against black men (who made up about half of my staff, at that time. None of them got the job, nor complained about it, either). He called me a racist about 17 times during this exchange, and my temper had finally gotten the best of me, so that I blurted out:

"You didn't not get that job because you're black; I didn't give it to you because you're a fucking retard!"

Well, you can't make that kind of remark, even if it happens to be true, so off to Diversity Training for me once again. Once more into the fray of whining people who don't realize just how fucking ridiculous they sound with their petty, and often-unprovable, accusations. Accusations they only make because they're a) encouraged to do so, and b) know they can get away with the worst exaggerations or baseless claims, and c) hope to extort something for nothing by making them.

You Don't Know Gay!

*Sigh* It was bound to happen one day. As sure as Evolution created Little Green Apples and Snooki, at some point in my blogging journey I was certain to find a mailbox of angry readers all full of piss and vinegar about this viewpoint or that. That's okay; it's part of the process, and when you express your views on everything under the Sun, you have to expect that not everyone will agree with you, and that many people will take exception with something you've written.

There are four kinds of blog posts that you can write that will bring you an automatic, and often overwhelming, visceral response. The first is to defend the Jews. The Second is to make fun of Christians. The Third is to tell the truth, as you see it, about minorities.The Fourth, and perhaps the one that evokes the most visceral responses of all, is to write something about Gays.

The first accusation of all my gay responders is that I must be one of those super-secret self-hating gays myself, the sort that's deep in the closet and who just hasn't come to grips with my own sexuality. My personal confusion is expressed by the most vitriolic hyperbole upon the page. Sorry fellas, but this is patently false. I'm not Gay; I have no desire to pork another man in his ass, accept a penis in my mouth, or dress like Lady Gaga. I don't buy FDNY Beefcake calendars. I detest Enya and k.d. lang, and the Village People and Tim Gunn are not my personal heroes. My rectum is Exit-Only, thank you. I like women, and the more feminine they are, the better I like them.

And besides, it's about time you guys came up with a better retort than this one. It's worn and threadbare from overuse.

The second accusation they usually make is that I don't understand the problems of being a homosexual in modern society. To a certain extent, this is true, but then again, I don't engage in disgusting sexual acts that require you to wipe another man's shit off your appendages. Other than that, we all have the same problems; life is unfair, we will all eventually die, no one gets everything they desire.

I've heard all the complaints about the difficulties of being gay, mostly because I've been sent (banished) to Diversity Training more times than most people have had hot dinners. Modern American business makes a fetish of "Diversity", which is just a code word for "Black people get to be openly racist for a couple of days, just so we don't get sued". If there's anything that is absolutely-bet-the-farm-on-it certain to come up during a Diversity Training session, it's the eternal struggle between Gays and Blacks to compete with one another with overwrought horror stories as to who's discriminated against more. Once that fight starts, we White Guys, Jews and Asians sit back and watch the fireworks show. It's entertaining. Most of it is bullshit, too, but that's beside the point.

So no, I don't have first-hand experience of being gay. However, I've been surrounded by gay men and women most of my adult life, about two decades now. I have a highly-developed sense of "Gaydar", however, it's not foolproof, and my response to being confronted by an obviously-gay person is to...behave in the way I would expect them to behave towards me. This close and personal (but not too close and personal, if you get my drift) contact with the homosexual community in my daily life has given me some insights into the Gay Lifestyle (most of which, I would have been happy to remain ignorant of), which just reinforced something I think I always knew: it takes all kinds. It's just that some kinds are more entertaining than others.

I've known your stereotypical, flaming, Oscar Wilde gays. Your buttoned-down-deep-in-the-closet gays. Your I'm-so-fucking-gay-other-gays-say-holy-shit-you're-fucking-gay! gays. I've known the campy kind, the catty kind, the ones that never speak about it, and the ones who can't shut up about it. The ones that have been married to members of the opposite sex at some point in their lives and have families. The ones who think no one else knows they're gay and try to keep it a secret, but are betrayed by their behavior. The ones who can't stop cracking jokes that invariably have a gay element to them, and the one's who try to stick their gay attitude right under your nose 24/7. The Militant Gays, the Passive Gays, the Happy Gays, the Dramatic Gays, the Gays on the verge of suicide every goddamned day. The Attention Whores, the Out-to-Offend, the ones who use their Gayness as a weapon to extort better jobs, raises, and other benefits.

The Drama Queens, the Bomb-Throwers, the I Wish-I-Were-A-Man/Woman/Hermaphrodite kind, the I-Can-See-That-Guy-in-Gossamer-wings-and-Magic-wand-Ensemble. The Rugged Individualist, the Betty-Crocker-I've-Made-a-Pear-Tarte-Tatin-for-the-office, the Boy/Girl Next Door, The Always-on-the-Make kind,The Self-Mutilators, The Drug/Booze Addicts, The I-Have-No-Sense-of-Humor, the Can-Wake-The-Fucking-Dead-With-Their-Gay-Banter, and the limp-wristed-caricature, the Bon Vivant, and the Light-in-the-Loafers varieties.

I've made a list. I have known approximately 70 people (male, female and who-the-fuck-knows) who I either knew to be gay, or suspected of being gay, including the three-piece-Brooks-Brother's suit who was unceremoniously fired and escorted from the building for downloading Gay Porn, and who, come to think of it, hardly ever left his office or spoke a word to anyone. That one was a surprise.

I've heard the stories; freely-told, spilled in a moment of drunken camaraderie, or loudly proclaimed to the world during Diversity Class so as to ensure that a claim has been staked. This doesn't make me an "expert" on Gay, but it does make me an expert on this: you'll find as many varieties of Gay as you will Straight, and it's only individuals, not identity groups, that have ever made we want to attack someone with a ball-peen hammer. And perhaps a blunt butter knife.

So, please, spare me your drama about how "difficult" it is to be gay. It's difficult just being a human being, on a good day. Your "persecution" is my belly laugh; my "persecution" is to have to listen to your incessant whining about how "special" you are. Guess what? You aren't; at some point in all of our lives, we're all whining, whinging, hypocritical, heartless, careless, clueless douchebags with burdens to bear.

Such is life. Get over yourselves.

Update: In response to Jimmy H. in Lindenhurst, N.Y. who wants to know:

"Who was the most offensive/funniest gay dude u ever met?"

I don't know if Jimmy is looking for a date, or what,but to answer the question:

That would be the Jamaican gentlemen Iworked with on my first real job in 1985, and his phallo-centric Carribean lunch menu, which included such fine faire as Cowcock soup (yes, the description is accurate), goat balls cooked a dozen ways, and as many permutations of meat-on-a-stick as you might imagine.

After he had put on a show in eating it all, he would then settle in to read his Bible for the remainder of his lunch hour.

Of School Buses and Dimwits...

There's a lot of stuff going on here on Staten Island involving school buses. The Department of Education (that's three lies for the price of one) is refusing to provide school bus service for 7th and 8th graders here on the island, a service that has been around for years.

The Educrats claim this is a cost-savings measure; local parents call it "bullshit". The parents do so because the DOE won't answer their questions, won't provide any information, and after two lawsuits, even the judge is beginning to ask just what the fuck the DOE is talking about.

Now, I don't have any kids (that I know of -- wink, wink) attending public school here in New Yorkistan. So, this shouldn't matter to me. But, it does, mostly because my nephew is one of the kids affected (more on this in a second), and because, well, any opportunity to piss on City Government and Mayor Doomberg is just too good to pass up.

My nephew is 11, going on 12. The school he attends is something like 3 miles (as the crow flies) from his house. Without a school bus, Mikey is forced to take a round-about route to get there: he walks 5 blocks (that's half-a mile) to the local train station, and after taking the train for 3 stops, walks another 5 or 6 blocks to school (taking the City bus is an adventure: The "Long" route requires 2 buses, and the "Short" route, 3. Suffice to say, you could walk the 3 miles on one leg and get there faster than if you took the City bus). Both ends of that walk require him to cross streets that simply were not designed for the traffic they now carry (most streets in this borough follow the same path as they did in Revolutionary War times), and the average Staten Island driver resembles a kamikaze pilot on speed -- with the added benefit that most can be counted upon to be texting, yacking on the cell phone, shaving, putting their makeup on, or wiping up the Starbuck's spill in their lap, anything other than paying attention to the road.

I would hazard to guess that your average Staten Island driver learned to operate a motor vehicle at a Demolition Derby school, and presumes that it is his/her God-given right to do 80 in a 35 zone -- in reverse and blindfolded -- if they goddamned well please. Crossing a street on this island is like taking your life into your own hands; these assholes all ride around in SUVs and actually try to panic pedestrians into crossing before the light changes, or they have to suffer the inconvenience of waiting another 3 minutes to make that all-important left turn that only takes them to the next red light.

Pedestrians? You get points for hitting those, right? Red lights? Those only apply to everyone else on the road. Turning lanes? What the hell is a turning lane? Even the sidewalks are often unsafe, as it's not unknown for drivers stuck behind one another on narrow roads to turn them into impromptu, personal express lanes. Provided there even IS a sidewalk -- in some neighborhoods, sidewalks are like woolly mammoths; no one's ever seen one, but you remember someone once told you they existed.

This is life in the Forgotten Borough of New Yorkistan, c. 2010.

The DOE isn't interested in saving money, but they can't go out and say what their real concern is.

Staten Island's White Middleschoolers get bus service, but the rest of the kids in the city --The Diversity -- does not.

Typically, this is because the Diversity lives in places where there is adequate public transportation, and where there's also more schools. This isn't the case on Staten Island, so it's not unusual for a Middleschooler to have to have a commute that rivals his parent's.

When the DOE Dingbat said, "Times are tough..." that is bureaucratic crapspeak for "Bend over and take it, Whitey". The fact that none of the DOE doofuses involved in this fiasco can tell you exactly why they're doing this, or how they arrived at the decision to do it, tells you all you need to know:

It's all about race.

When it doesn't make sense, when no one can offer a logical explanation, when someone cites cost when the agency in question wastes more money keeping hundred of teachers in Rubber Rooms, often for a decade or more, you can rest assured that we're not talking about a policy based upon logic or economy.

Someone must have gotten her panties in a bunch to discover that somewhere in New York City, white kids were getting chauffeured to school, and it rankled. Why, that's not fair to all the kids who have to walk three blocks to go to school! It's yet another example of institutional racism!

And so now a couple thousand schoolkids will have to dodge traffic, along streets that might not have sidewalks, prowled by idiots who know where the accelerator is, but treat the brake pedal as an afterthought, to get to a school that's further away from home than most of their parent's jobs. And some of them are going to get KILLED doing it. I can promise you that, because people being struck by cars is the second-leading cause of death on this island (right after Mob-Style execution).

If you want to know just how much about race it is, read some of the comments to this article left by the dimwit Libtards who signed in to tease the White Guys, and actually accuse those who oppose the removal of service of being racists!

Maybe Imam Rauf Will Take Him In?

Closet Conservative posts an (P)MSNBC report about a gay Saudi diplomat with a Jewish friend, who is seeking asylum in the United States.

I hear they're building a monument to Islamic tolerance at Ground Zero. Maybe this man can find refuge and acceptance -- and perhaps maybe even a defender -- with the"moderate" Imam Rauf there. Let's see if the Ground Zero Mosque gang is willing to put it's money where it's mouth is, or if all that flowery talk about peace and understanding is just a pile of bullshit.

(H/T Conservative in the Closet)

Mark Your Calendars: May 20th is "Everybody Draw Mohammed Day!"

A movement is afoot to support Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of South Park who were recently threatened with death by an Islamic website for daring to poke fun at the wife-beating, felonious, mentally-unstable, child-molesting Prophet Mohammed, by having as many people as possible draw and display their conception of that Desert-Dwelling Douchebag, all on the same day.

It's called "Everybody Draw Mohammed Day".

The idea is that if the response to an Islamic death threat -- and also a response to the censorship which some in America feel is itself the appropriate response to Islamic death threats (because they're pussies!) -- is mass ridicule, then the death threats will cease. That if there is pushback, these assholes will back down. Eventually, each threat is answered with a new wave of ridicule and blasphemy larger than the last, and the intimidation and attempt to censor Americans exercising their rights to Free Speech will come to an end.

It'll work, because at heart, all Islamic men are bullies, with very small penises, who have no guts for a principled fight whatsoever. They are nothing more than tiny little dictators, their little minds warped by endless hours of sodomy suffered at the hands of their imams in "school", who live in continuous, quaking, sweating, pants-shitting fear of The Vagina -- a fear so deep and terrifying, that they must wrap their womenfolk up in burlap, beat them regularly, hide them from public view and treat them like cattle. Then they go out and shag sheep. It's no wonder that as soon as Arab women hit the West they immediately "trade up" to one of us normal (usually white) guys -- assuming they aren't killed by their fathers and brothers first, or married off to a first-cousin in the sewers of Lahore, Aden or Damascus before they're old enough to realize that they're being oppressed.

Yes, ridicule and defiance are always effective against the bullies of the world. And besides, it'll be fun to finally get a chance to antagonize these turds.

Keep a lookout for a your local "Everybody Draw Mohammed Day" gathering, and show up with your sign to show support for your country and your way of life. Let the pig fuckers...err..."extremists"...know that that this is OUR Country,and OUR Culture, and we mean to defend it and ourselves. Let them know that their ideas, ways of life, peccadilloes, vagina-phobia, and insane farm-animal fetishes count for absolute shit, and that if they wish to become true Americans, they'll just have to assimilate and learn to have a little tolerance, otherwise, they can just GO THE FUCK HOME.

When Illegal Aliens Attack...

Predictably, the Hate Mail rolled in in response to this post.

An obviously-organized effort sprang into being to chastise me over the issue of my "inhumane" and "disgusting" views on the subjects of Illegal Immigration and Bi-lingual education, and I have to say that so far as organized efforts go, this one was pretty tame and I've gotten worse Hate Mail than this. Some of it (perhaps half) was actually quite civil, if full of misspellings (and isn't it peculiar that everyone made the same spelling and grammatical errors?).

Except for the three e-mails that had viruses attached (jackasses -- I scan my e-mail thoroughly, and I used to be a System's Programmer, so I know all the tricks!), the letters all made the same points (and isn't funny that all my correspondents made the same points in the same language, and in the same order?), most of it was boilerplate "you're a racist" sort of stuff that I see, oh, every other day. This is old hat; the only difference was the volume. I routinely get worse stuff from Anglo Libtards with their panties in a bunch over my obvious homophobia, blatant racism and pitiless disregard for the feelings and tribulations of transgendered pets, and the People Who Love Them.

The respondents all make the same arguments, and I'll summarize them here:

1. There are no"illegal human beings".

2. The "crime" of sneaking across the American border is not a crime, per se, but rather a "civil offense". It's not that big a deal, like getting a speeding ticket.

3. Illegal immigrants DO pay taxes, just not income taxes, and this is not their fault since they're being exploited by Big Business and unscrupulous Capitalists who all presumably studied the art of Business Management at the Simon LaGree Institute.

4. Appeals to "Fairness" and "The American Dream".

5. "It's for the children".

6. The United States "belongs" to Us (Mexicans, Indians, etc.) in the first place, and you Anglos "stole" it from Us.

Now, let's knock these perfectly infantile arguments down one at a time:

1. You're absolutely right. There is no such thing as an "illegal human being". However, that argument is a piece of pure Sophistry which might get you an "A" in Diversity Class, but which is otherwise meaningless. Perhaps because you are not so skilled in the use of the English Language, or more precisely, the subtleties of American Culture (and why should you be? It's not as if you're being encouraged to assimilate), it is not evident to you that we don't begrudge you your basic humanity, we only object to what you have done in order to get here, and what you do once you are here. The word "illegal" applies to the act, not the perpetrator.

I recognize every one of you as a Person, no different from me, except in some external and cultural ways. However, I didn't commit a crime and violate another Nation's Sovereignty just because I could, and with a reasonable assumption that I could then partake of all that Nation had to offer (because we're good people) without any corresponding responsibility to the people and government that provide it to me.

It's all about Respect and Gratitude. We expect you to Respect our laws, and then we expect you to show some Gratitude -- you don't need to thank me personally, but you could make an effort to help better the society that gives you much and asks for so little in return. It's called Civic Responsibility. You could start by trying to atone for your Original Sin and become citizens (that is to say, taxpayers), and then the least you could do is be contributing to the betterment of your adopted Nation.

2. A Civil Offense is still a crime; it's just not one that'll get you hung in the Village Square. And even "Civil Offenses" have consequences; if I get a speeding ticket, I still have points applied to my driver's license, or have it suspended or revoked, and then my insurance company may decide that I'm suddenly a reckless driver and raise my premiums. I have to show up in court and pay a fine. I have the offense entered into my "permanent record", and it will follow me forever, and that speeding ticket will be seen by every potential employer, every loan officer and every magistrate that I ever cross paths with.

It's not that a Speeding Ticket is a Capital Offense it's that if the act of speeding wasn't illegal, I would never have been charged with a Civil Offense in the first place! The differences between my ticket and your crossing the border are these: I didn't speed in order to get Food Stamps, a Free Education for my children, a housing subsidy, and a myriad of services paid for by other people for which I'm not expected to reciprocate, in any way, and which excuses even the worst behavior in the name of some made-up notions about "Diversity" and "Brotherhood". There certainly any Congresscritters, Mayors and City Councilmen clamoring to represent the "Speeder's Community" because of the votes, money and notoriety this might bring them, and there isn't a Business or Agricultural Lobby who views Speeders as source of cheap and infinitely-exploitable labor that bucks up their bottom line. There sure-as-hell isn't a bevy of "Advocacy Groups" working on behalf of Speeders because there's a shitload of Federal Money to be skimmed.

The difference between my Speeding Ticket and your "Civil Offense" is that your offense often costs far more than money, and does appreciably more damage to civil society.

The argument that there are laws which "don't really count" is a rather bad one. I may disagree with certain laws myself, but I can still respect them, and hopefully, try to get them changed through the legal processes of petition and elections. You want to get them changed on the basis of "there's too many of us here for you to adequately and humanely enforce this law, so why not just forget it", and then when that Legion of Lawbreakers becomes the majority, you'll be able to use legal means to justify and excuse your initially illegal act. That's plain wrong.

3. Paying Sales Taxes is unavoidable, and if given a choice, I'm certain you'd dodge these, as well. I know I would. That argument cuts no ice. The idea that Illegal Aliens pay Social Security taxes is laughable: those are, firstly, paid by your Employer (who is taking these out of your check before you ever get it, and who has every reason to lie about what he pays you because it was illegal to hire you in the first place), and because you don't have permission to work in the United States.

Which means you shouldn't have been hired in the first place. It would be against the law to do so.

If you were paying Social Security taxes as an Illegal Immigrant, then you would have a Social Security Card, which means the Government would know where you live, in which case, it's failing in it's duty to arrest and deport you.

In the case of Income Taxes, if I have to suffer that act outrageous theft, then so should you. The fact is that your immigration status being nebulous or questionable often shields you, to a large extent, from having to suffer that indignity. In the meantime, my money (as well as the money of millions of others who don't really have a choice in the matter) pays for perpetuating this most unfair, confiscatory and punishing system, and rewarding you for your outrageous --and illegal -- behavior.

4. As for "Fairness", when I can enter Mexico in violation of the Law, not get arrested and deported for it, and have the government there provide me with free hospitals, schools that will teach my children in English, a political system that's eager to cater to my every need at someone else's expense, doesn't punish me for breaking the law, and considers all that an act of charity, then perhaps then we can talk about what's "Fair".

Oh, and the reason why it's called The American Dream is because it's reserved for Americans. That means the people who play by the rules and who are actual citizens. You could probably have something similar in Mexico, China, India or Pakistan, but that would require effort on your part, I guess. If most of you showed half the industry and fortitude you apply in getting here to take advantage of the American Taxpayer to improve the conditions in your own countries, perhaps you wouldn't have to come here and live on the edges of Society, glomming off other people's success and industry, and then wondering why you're resented for it.

You certainly wouldn't be organizing a letter-writing campaign to an anonymous loudmouth with an opinion you don't like. For every letter I got that started with "I'm a hard-working individual..." I had to ask the questions: Then why weren't you working hard where you originally came from? and Why, then, do you need welfare? Yes, I know: the culture where you come from neither rewards nor encourages the virtue of work, nor does it provide the same freedoms, but it could, if only you took the opportunity to make it so. It's just easier to exploit a nation where conditions are different, isn't it?

5. I don't care about your children, in this respect; because YOU obviously don't care about them. Because the lesson you're teaching them is that it's within their rights to break the law as they see fit, and then it's perfectly acceptable to live like beggars on the edges of society, under-the-radar, and dependant upon the kindness (rather the extortion) of strangers. You're teaching them that they're entitled to all the benefits of American Society and the American Taxpayer, without having to accept the responsibilities of American citizenship. You're teaching them that it's perfectly alright for them to steal from others. Worse, that they're entitled and expected to steal from others. It's a Human Right, after all.

I don't wish to see children suffer, to go uneducated and without as wide a range of options for their tiny, little futures as possible. I do, however, don't believe they should be allowed to benefit from their parent's criminal activity.

6. I'm not an "Anglo". I'm a 4th-generation American. I was born here, the descendants of people who entered the country legally through Ellis Island (and some of them were quarantined -- basically imprisoned -- when they arrived on these shores, for months), and who didn't have an entire array of Government Services to exploit. My ancestors came here knowing little or no English, and there were no schools to teach it to them as a Second Language, and they were expected to a) suck it up, and b) assimilate. They did the same jobs many of the newer generation of immigrants do (sweeping streets, laying bricks, digging trenches), and their life was considerably harder because ethnic and religious hatreds weren't considered "bad form" by polite society; they were openly discriminated against, and there was no form of legal protection for them. The terms "Immigrant" and "Italian" didn't come with their own battalion of Lawyers, Senators, Aldermen, and Advocacy Groups to leap to their defense, excuse their criminal behavior, nor bend the culture and legal system to accommodate their every whim.

They (my forebears) assimilated, and became AMERICANS, and while they still loved the Mother Country and kept as many of their customs and culture as they could, they also realized that some aspects of those practices certainly weren't acceptable here, and so they conformed. Unlike the Hispanics I've seen around here who's children feel it's perfectly fine to urinate in the street -- and often make a communal game out of it, or who pick their noses and wipe snot on every convenient vertical surface, spit like camels everywhere they go,. or live 20 people to a two-bedroom apartment, and who have brought measles, tuberculosis, and other diseases that were once wiped out, back into the country.

Where's the quarantine for infected "immigrants"? Why is the Emergency Room of my local hospital full of people speaking strange languages and coughing up blood without insurance or the means to pay for the First-Class care they demand and expect to get? Why does the City of New York have to empower special panels to see to the "problems of bi-lingual education"? Even the terminology "problems of bi-lingual education" admits it; there's a problem. If it were a good thing, it wouldn't be a problem. But I digress.

As to who "owns" what -- get over it. Your ancestors, be they Mexican, Amerindian, Pakistani, or whatever, are the losers of history. If you were winners, you wouldn't have to steal from others. It's not my fault that your Stone Age forebears came up against Renaissance and Industrial Revolution technology, not to mention Smallpox, and lost out. I don't believe in the nostrum that all cultures are "equal and valid". If they were, there would be no immigration (illegal or otherwise), and you'd still be ripping the beating hearts out of your captives, shagging camels, eating your own feces and lice, and earning a good living doing it all in your own country.

I don't owe you anything. I'm perfectly willing to share what I have as a matter of being a good citizen, but not when the transaction is one-sided, and costs me far more than I get in return, and especially when the response to what I have given is not "Thank you", but rather "Fuck You...and gimme more!"

This Just In: Something You Already Knew Ten Years Ago Reported as "News"...

Ricky Martin is gay.

I would have said that anyone who could use the line "Her hair is the color Mocha..." was pretty much standing atop the tallest building in Gayville, shouting "I'm Queee-eeer! Come Get me, you Sexy Poo-stabbers!".

The only things missing were the feather boa and the martini glass. Any man who can dance that well, and obviously spends that much time and pays that much detail to his appearance, is so obviously gay that it's hard to figure out how anyone missed it.

This reminds me so much of a man I used to know who was so gay that other gay men shook their heads in disbelief about just how gay he was -- they used to refer to him either as "Scary Gay...", or on more than one occasion "Capitol Gay". Capitol Gay? Yes, "gay" in capitol letters; G-A-Y. Only "Tim" (not his real name) was laboring under the misapprehension that no one knew that he was a "secret" Rump Ranger.

I had worked with "Tim" for nearly a decade, when he finally "Came Out" during, of all things, Diversity Class. I guess he was so moved by the experience that he had finally decided to come clean, or more likely, he was just marking his territory as an oppressed minority.

Anyways, he was quite proud of himself at the time, but that pride quickly turned to disappointment when we all told him "No Shit, Tim!". The impeccable dress, the always-shining-like-a mirror shoes, the perfect hair, the lisp, the skipping through the hallways, singing torch songs in the Men's Room, it was all a dead giveaway.

"Tim" was crushed; he thought his little tidbit of news would have caused a stir (in the vein of Oscar Wilde's famous dictum "There is only thing worse than being talked about, and that is NOT being talked about...), and would have made him an office celebrity. Instead, life went on much as it had for the ten years prior. Much of "Tim's" spirit had been crushed by the fact that no one gave a shit about how gay he was, and not long after, he quit for greener pastures (the last I heard of him, he was running a pet grooming boutique on Long Island).

I don't know what any of that has to do with Ricky Martin, and just like the "news" that he's a flamer, I could really care less. I just find it funny that people can consider themselves shocked and surprised when the evidence was always on display, and that this somehow is "news".

Adventures in Dining...

An interesting afternoon yesterday.

It all began innocently enough; I was walking through my neighborhood, taking care of my personal business, when it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't had lunch. No problem, I was on a major street and there are a number of restaurants, pizzerias and delicatessens, so finding something tasty shouldn't have been much of a problem.

Except that I couldn't resist that smell.

You see, in recent years there has been an influx of immigrants (most of them are for certain illegal, you can tell by their behavior) into the neighborhood, mostly from Central America. A lot Mexicans and Nicaraguans, but not of the sort you'd think. I believe they used to be called Mestizos -- the dark-skinned, broad-faced Central Americans who are the descendants of mixed-race Indians. These are, for the most part, the largest group you see flooding across the American border, because they are usually the lowest strata of Central and South American society, and therefore, the most desperate. Well, there's a million of them (it seems) here in my old nabe.

So, there I was passing THAT DOOR. THAT DOOR used to belong to a diner which I used to eat in quite frequently in my youth. Best Grilled-cheese-with-bacon-and-tomato -- and a large plate of steak fries -- you ever had. But the owner died or something, and for many years I forgot all about it, and I'm not even certain it was open for all of that time. In the meantime, the "Mexicans took it over". Someone bought or rented the place, and opened a Cantina. I see the "Mexicans" going in and out of there all the time; they stop in for beer and the pool table, they gather outside to smoke, or bullshit. There's always the music. Horns. Lots of horns. And guitars.
There's never any trouble there that I hear of, and the place always seems to have a good crowd in it. And it always smells good when you pass by. Someone is always cooking up a storm in there.

So, here I was, hungry, and in front of THAT DOOR, my mouth watering in anticipation. After all, I love Mexican food, the hotter the better. So, I decided I was going to go for it.

No sooner did the door open than a dozen heads turned in unison. I doubt many Gringos come in here, and the stares weren't just those of idle curiosity -- they were almost hostile. I had just invaded someone's territory -- although I should like to point out they'd invaded mine first when they crossed the fucking border. But this was not the time for this discussion. I was starving and something smelled delicious, and not even the thought of being knifed in a dark, Mexican cantina was going to keep me from it. I even caught a few racial epithets being muttered, and at least one homosexual joke directed at me.

The Girl Behind the Counter was plump, but pleasant-looking. I have to say this about most of the "Mexican" girls around here; they are invariably all lumpy and plump, and many are truly, hideously ugly. This girl was better than the average and wore less make-up than most (they often wear it in the same way you might Spackle a hole in the wall). Anyways, she was shy (I'm guessing she doesn't speak much English), and didn't have much to say until I broke out my halfway-decent Spanish and asked if they were serving lunch. And everyone in the place seemed dumbstruck.

They hadn't realized that I spoke Spanish (I actually understand it better than I speak it).

I guess they don't find many Gringos Who Speak Spanish in their Dark Cantina, either. Espcially not ones who know they've been insulted behind their backs. There were two slight problems, though; these people don't speak "standard" (Castillian) Spanish, but rather dialect which makes them difficult to understand (for me), and what I took to be a "Mexican" restaurant instead turned out to be a Salvadoran restaurant. Which was be a bit of an unpleasant surprise; I used to work with a Salvadoran woman (she was legal!) who used to bring food from home to the office. Salvadorans have a talent for using every part of the animal (including hooves, skin and snouts), and an even greater talent for making it look appetizing. However, despite their best efforts not much of it actually is appetizing. No matter how many spices you use, or how creative you are in disguising a cow's rectum --it's still a friggin' cow's rectum and tastes like ass. That's if you can manage to chew it and keep it down.

So, I scanned the menu -- not because I was expecting to find anything edible, but because having come this far I had to at least make a brave show of it all. Finally, I came to something I recognized and asked if it was being made with the pig's butt and balls, or if it were real pork (only politely) -- and that got a chuckle from the wiseguy homophobes. You have to do that when ordering Salvadoran food, because there's like 10 different words for pork, and if you get the wrong one you're eating gonads. It turns out it was real pork, the honest-to-goodness good cuts; it's more readily available here in America than in El Salvador, and at that moment I was thanking the Farmers of America for being so productive so as to make pork so relatively cheap and easy to obtain that even Salvadorans could dispense with using ears and toenails in what passes for their cuisine.

I ordered Pupusas, which is tortilla filled with pork, cheese and beans, all fried up and served with tomato sauce. I gave the Certido (pickled cabbage) that came with it a very big miss. I surrendered to habit and ordered a Coke with it, although I was willing to try one of those Salvadoran sodas they had in the display case. It was all reasonably-priced. I paid my bill, took my food and walked home -- with a dozen sets of eyes on my back all the way from the counter to the Cantina door. I had an especially tasty meal, I must say -- and an even better colon cleansing. It wasn't quite food poisoning -- just that all the hot pepper had a rather more... cathartic... effect than I would have thought. Half a bottle of Pepto later-- and two rolls of Charmin -- and all was well.

I will say this much about the entire experience; I will certainly NOT do it again anytime soon, at least not in that restaurant (I can't help it; I love trying new foods and can't say no to spicy foods). But even more than that, I think what I'll take away from this experience was the thought of being considered a stranger in my own goddamned country. The circumstances in which I was regarded as unwelcome by people who probably shouldn't even be here was enough to remind me that these folks aren't here for the purposes of becoming Americans. Not in the sense that my great-grandparents did, at least; they don't wish to learn English, they don't even want to share their restaurants and cuisine with The Gringos, they simply want money to send home and welfare and hospitals, and food stamps and schools, free-of-charge, whenever they can get it.

I then recalled something that I had read not too long ago: the New York City Public School System has a Major Problem (in addition to all the other ones it has, this one seems the biggest): it has a shortage of bi-lingual teachers. You would think this would be easy enough to fix, but here's the issue -- there are something close to a quarter-million students in the schools here who's first language is as likely to be Russian, Mandarin, Portuguese, Creole, Arabic, Hindu, and the even-more-remote non-Spanish dialects of the most distant parts of rural Mexico and El Salvador.

Can you imagine the chaos and expense of having to provide a service like this? Especially when there's a Public Union and a government involved? Nevermind what these people are going to do to the Healthcare system when they can abuse it with impunity, thanks to ObamaCare, and God forbid, the coming Amnesty.

Better than 60% of the Hispanic students in the NYC Schools drop out, the majority before they finish high school. They then melt back into their "communities", live at the edges of society, and refuse to assimilate, and eventually, end up as wards of the state, either in a prison, a hospital or the welfare office. When they're not out landscaping or hanging out at Home Depot, it seems, they're hanging out in darkened cantinas making their hateful opinions of the Gringos unmistakably clear to any who can understand them.

Why is it that we're struggling to provide services to people who came here in violation of the law, treat us as if we're invaders in our own land, don't wish to associate with us, and are encouraged not to so that they can be manipulated for political purposes, only to have them regard US as the Enemy when we walk into a restaurant?

News Flash: Diversity Training Makes People More Racist..

Well, DUUUUUH! You sit in a room for two days surrounded by Blacks, Latinos, Homosexuals, and Ugly Broads, all encouraged to have a go at Mr. White Heterosexual, free of consequence (after all, it's not likely he's going to get out of his chair and punch you in the mouth in front of a room full of witnesses, is it?), and see how would you feel?

I know how I felt. I would have shot everyone in the room just to ensure most of them didn't breed any further and pollute the planet with even more whiney, dickless little bedwetters. The biggest complainers are the blacks who arrive fifteen minutes late every day and leave a half-hour early, who can't write a memo in Standard English, and can't talk to each other from a distance of five feet without screaming at the tops of their lungs, crying about how they don't get promotions because of their color.

Then come the Ugly Broads, who complain loudly about Sexual Harassment. What they're really complaining about is how no one harasses them. And by God, if no one is playing Grab-Ass with Cindy the Landwhale, then no one should be allowed to play Grab-Ass with Sally Spermberper from the Temp Pool, either. The Nice-looking Chicks have no issue with Sexual Harassment, per se, until they don't want to date you anymore, or you didn't buy her something she wanted. One day, you're Making the Beast with Two Backs, the next day, you're walking the unemployment line and looking for a good attorney. You never hear a man complain of Sexual Harassment, even at the hands of an Ugly Broad. The only time you'll ever hear a man complain he's being Sexually Harassed is if another dude is the aggressor.

Rule of thumb: no matter what the temptaion, NEVER get sexually or emotionally involved with someone you have to work with.

The only real moments of comic relief, or at least a lessening of the tension in that sort of setting, comes from the Gay Men. Especially the one's who are under the impression that you haven't noticed just how Gay they were the last decade you've been working with them, and they take the opportunity afforded by Diversity Training to "come out" -- with the added benefit that they've now staked out their territory as a legally-protected minority in front of fifty witnesses. There's nothing funnier than a flamboyantly Gay Man who is genuinely shocked...shocked...that you already knew he was a Butt Pirate before he told you. Perhaps singing showtunes as you skipped through the office and the home-made baked goods, all the fishing for compliments about your shoes and haircut, the fact that you were the only man in the building with a manicure set in your desk, the oversized pen with the purple ostrich feather in it, this was you keeping a secret?

I've been through the wringer of Diversity Training. Sixteen hours over two days, no less. I walked out of that class thinking that most of humanity fell into the category of Disgusting Pile of Extraneous Genetic Material That Somehow Learned to Speak. I never hated anyone before. Afterwards, I hated everyone.

I'm of the mind that of you wanted to eliminate racism, you're better off a) dropping diversity classes, b) stop forcing integration of the races by government diktat, and c) stop reminding people of their differences.

We'll all be a lot happier, and the charlatans who run these Diversity Training scams would go broke, the courts would be empty and the lawyers all begging for pennies on the streets.

(H/T FiveFeetofFury)

Perhaps the Smartest Man, Ever, Writes About Diversity...

I was introduced (not formally, as alas, I have not had the honor of actually meeting the man) to Professor Victor Davis Hanson about a decade ago on the pages of National Review (to which I used to subscribe, back when the late William F. Buckley was still the editor) in the book review section. There was a review of his book Carnage and Culture, something which piqued my interest as an amateur military historian. Not soon afterwards, there was an excerpt of that book published in, I believe, American Heritage (to which I also used to subscribe) which convinced me that I just had to own that book.

I soon became obsessed with owning everything the man ever wrote, as he seemed to have considered esoteric, but vitally important aspects of history that my untrained mind had not even acknowledged. Carnage and Culture led me to read more culture-based treatises on the practices of war and politics, like those written by John Keegan and Donald Kagan. Before, Hanson, the scope of my knowledge was limited to the dry, linear histories of the individual campaign or the tactical "tricks" of the great generals that were little more than the recitation of facts, or the parroting of the last "expert" that I had read. Like many, I had simply assumed that because someone had managed to get published, that they were probably right. Hanson helped me identify a critical error in my way of thinking (such as it is).

Years later, I have come to the conclusion that Professor Hanson is perhaps one of the greatest historians of our time (along with Daniel Boorstin and Eugen Weber), and more, that he is one of the better commentators on our present culture.

I have faithfully followed him from National Review to his own website (see link bar) and finally, to the pages of Pajamas Media. It is my opinion that if you don't read Professor Hanson regularly, you are missing out on a valuable resource that will make you think upon, and hopefully better understand, the world you live in.

No, he isn't my God, but he's certainly someone who's opinions and conclusions I take seriously.

Today, the Professor takes a look at the nature of the movement for "Diversity", Read. And you'll fall in love with VDH yourself, I believe.

Note: I'm adding a link to American Heritage, something I have neglected for some time now. It's especially important, in this day and age, to know how we got here and became Americans.

Update: Perhaps the Second Smartest Man, Ever adds an intriguing tale of his own, complete with an Olympic opening ceremony.