Saturday, April 17, 2010

Mondo-Condo: the Middle Class House of DT.s

I gave up hitting on Muslim women, not just because I was going broke and getting nowhere, but because I'm not a big drinker. I'd meet a Muslima and take her out for a drink, but no mater how much orange juice I plied her with, she'd never lighten up and get "in the mood." I don't even like orange juice. But no, looking back on it a bit, maybe Muslim women aren't so bad after all. Sort of.

A woman has become the first person to be banned from buying or drinking alcohol anywhere in England and Wales.

Laura Hall, 20, was issued with a Drinking Banning Order - nicknamed Booze Asbos - which bars her from entering any pub, club, off-licence or bar.

The two-year order also bans Hall from buying alcohol at any other establishment or shop, carrying it in an unsealed container or drinking it in a public place.


A study by the Joseph Rowntree Foundation last year found that female binge drinking had almost doubled over the last decade. According to Government statistics, the number of women involved in alcohol-related crime rose 30 per cent between 2005 and 2007.

OK, there's a golden mean somewhere. But the English are well off to one side and sliding fast. I lived in East London so far to the east that I feared that if I fell over I'd land in France. We're talking, in terms of my childhood years, the wilderness of England, a land so uptight that there was no music in church, it being sinful and self-indulgent and distracting from the serious business of Christianity. Last time there, the club across the street disgorged ladies onto the street that left the pavement thick with puke and the detritus of spilt purses and lost and single high-heeled shoes. Those women were not just staggering drunk but falling down and vomiting and screaming drunk. We're talking a nice, middle-class suburb.

There's a Leftist meme circulating in this city that drunkenness is the result of colonialism on native peoples, those whose culture is destroyed, leaving them in a cosmic state of total despair from which they are not able to recover themselves. That's a typical pseudo-intellectual laziness of mind that one expects of Leftists. but there's almost a case to be made on the same thesis that this is what's happening to the British; that they're colonized by Islam, and in a state of profound depression leading to mass suicide. I'll pass on it. I see it as a matter of conformity to the group: that getting drunk and puking is just all right with the mates, and drunk it is. It'll take sober men to say no. But why would they? That would be so "Sarah Palin." So much cooler, the bad Dexter.

Blending in

I was chatting with a Lefty kid on the street and he was telling me all about Obama, how stupid is Sarah Palin, how evil is America....

I interrupted him. I said, "You see the guy across the street in the camouflage pants?" And he said, "Yeah." And I said, "Then they don't seem to work very well, do they?"

Says those what knows: Tea Party-goers....

Most of them seem pretty hinged to me.

Slut Bunwalla|4.16.10 @ 10:48PM|#

And gruntled.

Friday, April 16, 2010

OHHH, Henryyyyy! Don't be swearing at the neighbours

This guy didn't learn much from mom, so the police had to step in to teach him some manners at a Tea party rally.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

No Ireny: Leftard Tea Party Crasher's Lemon Twist

No, sugar, you don't look "ironic" in the photo below.

Kiddie Obama-drone protesters hold signs disparaging the intelligence of Tea Party-goers.

My guess is they missed "irenic" as well.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Guess whose not coming to dinner?

Obama is off my dinner list. Look, if the man is going to treat heads of state and others of public import like shit, how would he treat me if I had him and his wife for dinner? If he thought of treating me like Canada's prime minister,

He'd find himself treated like the Dalai Lama,
Or he might find himself having a hard time with the finger food.

No dinner for you, Obama, bendy-straw man.

Fyrd Punishment.

It's painfully simple to complicate the concept, the good and the right limits of "punishment," to the point of sophistry. But let's not. Let's try to keep it as simple as a stick or a stone. Let us, metaphorically at least, utopian as it will seem, say, "The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers." Let's not talk strictly about the Law. Let's talk instead about the Fyrd, and let's talk among ourselves about Punishment.

Love that scene in Pulp Fiction, "I'm gonna get Medieval on your ass."

I've seen it in real life, so to say, and it drives me to jurisprudence. Sometimes. But sometimes the book just hasn't yet been written yet that covers things we really need to know now. For those times, many in this imperfect world, we need some authority wiser and more just than learned and reasoned tomes. Sometimes we need a blow-torch and a pair of pliers. We can call it punishment.

Recently a man shot himself to death in England. The man had been accused of "racism." In our day, an accusation of "racism" might well be enough to cause a normal and social man to kill himself over it. It happened to Roy Amor. Someone accused Amor of "racism." The man is dead now. But the accuser? Is he a moral paragon? Is he righteous?

We live in states of "Anarcho-Tyranny." The common man is illegal in his social being, and the criminal is lauded for his victimhood. We can no longer ask Roy Amor. Soon we might not be allowed to ask Geert Wilders or Ezra Levant or Ann Coulter or, maybe, me. Nor will we be allowed to ask our silent accusers, they who will remain masked and hidden from public view. Today we can know Lorna Pardy. Tomorrow we might only know that someone in has called us to The Trial and has questions we cannot answer. A crime? Maybe this:

"Woman, 86, hassled for eating cookie in wrong place"

A British pensioner who bit a chocolate chip cookie in a store café found herself being threatened with ejection for eating in the wrong place.

On a day out with her family, Thelma Williams sat down for a meal in the Marks & Spencer restaurant with her daughter and grandsons.

The 86-year-old widow from Blackburn, northwestern England, enjoyed a toasted sandwich, but wanted a bit more to eat.

She reached into her bag for the cookie she had bought for 60¢ in the store's food section.

That's when a woman staffer moved in, telling her she could not eat it in the café.

The employee claimed it was because of the difference in tax paid on items bought in the café and the store.

She called the security guard, who was equally insistent on following the rules, even though Ms. Williams tried to reason with him.

"I thought it was petty and ridiculous. I realize they have rules to stick to but it was so silly, I felt stupid. They made me feel like I had committed a crime," she told The Lancashire Telegraph.

Read more:

There is no law against this kind of stupidity practised by dullards. There is no law to appeal to even when dullards drive a man to suicide. Instead, there is Velvet Fascism. I argue that this is not a complicated story. It's not a deep philosophical problem. It is a matter of stupidity at all intellectual levels and levels of society generally that men and women have a grasp of the rules and no sense of the game. That sense is lost in a welter of moralisms and officiousness and sentimentality and profound idiocy rewarded by our cultures. I argue it needs quick and brutal punishment. I mean blood should flow in the streets, men should be beaten, buildings set ablaze, harm done. I mean real and hard punishment.

There is a public and cultural madness overtaken the people of Modernity that moralism is moral. There is a moralistic fad in the air that demands of ordinary people that they terrorize the people around them for the sake of showing the terrorists' moralism in public. It is a theatric performance of the nihilist idiot gone mad-- thanks to our culture gone mad in pursuit of perfect utopia. Blood must flow in the streets to waken the masses from this madness.

In our time, stupidity poses as genius, and few are courageous enough to call it out; fewer still to beat it silly till it bleeds. Instead, we see fools, high and low, tormenting the masses for the sake of show. Men die, women are ruined, life is destroyed. Tyranny rules raging in our democracies. Some large lot need to be punished.

Because people for a large part have lost a sense of public propriety in this age of hippiedom, rules follow, requiring a rule of arbitrary lawlessness built up on whimsy and feeling and intention. Driving a man to suicide is not the intention of the "anti-racist" who drove a man to suicide. The intention was to be seen as self-righteous and smug and "moral." There are no rules but feeling right, of intention.


"The road to hell is paved with good intentions" is thought to have originated with Saint Bernard of Clairvaux who wrote, "L'enfer est plein de bonnes volontés et désires" (hell is full of good wishes and desires). Wikipedia.

The Velvet Fascist demands that all obey the rules of good intention. Law gives way to legalisms. Feelings take priority over Reason. A look, a word, it is the sin. The life of man has no proper place in the life of man today. No, we must look only to the intention and its purity. If the intention is pure, then there is no wrong. The theatre of denunciation is the purity of the moralistic, and it is our law.

It is a commonplace among moralists that the intention is the chief among the determinants of the concrete morality of a human act. Hence when one's motive is grievously bad, or even only slightly so, if it be the exclusive reason for doing something, then an act which is otherwise good is vitiated and reputed to be evil. An end which is only venially bad, and which at the same time does not contain the complete cause for acting, leaves the operation which in other respects was unassailable to be qualified as partly good and partly bad. A good intention can never hallow an action the content of which is wrong. Thus it never can be lawful to steal, even though one's intention be to aid the poor with the proceeds of the theft. The end does not justify the means. It may be noted here in passing, as somewhat cognate to the matter under discussion, that the explicit and frequently renewed reference of one's actions to Almighty God is not now commonly thought to be necessary in order that they may be said to be morally good. The old-time controversy on this point has practically died out.

Uh Oh.

That tells me it's punishment time. This tells me it's time to get Medieval on the asses of asses.

The current fad of mindless and moralistic pettifoggery is crying out for rampant resort to punishment. I mean blood in the streets. No, of course the fools who think themselves moral geniuses have no intention of causing needless harm when they drive men to suicide, when they destroy lives in smallish ways by sanctimony. So what? Need we care about the intentions of the wicked stupid? I say, "Blood in the streets." Beat them senseless.

Raise the Fyrd, the men of the commons who come to the aid of our people in times of need. Be men of Fyrd, and mete out punishment to those who know no sense, morality, or law. Beat the fools, no matter their fine intentions, and punish them hard.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Now Obama kow-tows to Communist dictator

Many people are stupid, dishonest, or evil, and they make excuses for Obama. Of the three qualities above, most Obama supporters are probably most often just stupid or dishonest, maybe in some cases both. But in Obama's case, the man is all three at once. He's our president.

During our last election, a majority of voters decided to play at moralism, and we elected an evil buffoon, making our nation an object of ridicule. Shameful. But done is done, and now we have to live with this disgrace till we can right it in the next election. Till then we're stuck with this clown who bows to dictators and humiliates our friends and allies.

Shameful bastard, Obama.

Joke with mate ends in suicide in Manchester, UK

People are living in terror in Britain these days, some so terrified of the p.c. Mind-Police that they kill themselves. An election looms in Britain, for what it's worth. Half the eligible voters are likely to stay home because there is no political solution within the democratic frame-work of the nation as it is today. For many, there is only fear of the State and its minions. There is suicide.

A medical technician killed himself after being suspended from work after someone complained that he made a politically-incorrect joke about a black friend.

Roy Amor, 61, who was devastated at the prospect of losing his job making prosthetics, shot himself in the head outside his house.

He was facing a disciplinary investigation after suggesting to the black colleague that he ‘better hide’ when they noticed immigration officers outside their clinic.

It is understood that the man was a close friend of Mr Amor and was not offended. However, it was overheard by someone else who lodged a formal complaint.

Five days after his suspension, Mr Amor received an email about the incident from his employers, Opcare, a private company that provides prosthetic and orthotic services to the NHS.

A few hours later police found his body in the road outside his home near Bolton, Lancashire, after being alerted by a neighbour.

Read more:

Yes, there is resistance; but let's face it, most people would rather die than make a fuss or be seen as trouble makers. People are naturally decent, which is how dictators and madmen become powerful. Normal and decent folks are afraid to make a fuss.

“Let’s get them, they have Palin pins on”

A young woman and her boyfriend in New Orleans were beaten and hospitalised for injuries received from a gang who don't like Sarah Palin supporters. The mainstream media do not report. To them, to beat a young couple and break legs and noses and jaws is not news if the thugs doing so are Obama supporters. But, the majority of Americans are not likely willing to silently stand by while the Brown Shirt Democrats beat citizens and break bones. Most people don't care that much about the feelings and opinions of the msm. There comes a point whereat the people will smash the state. Those people won't be moralistic kids rampaging and terrorising the nation: they'll be men and women who take the day off work to clean up the streets of out-of-control thugs. Average America will say to the thugs of Hippiedom:

"Up against the wall, .... You ain't got no rights at all,...."

And most people will grimly nod in agreement.

GOP Official & Boyfriend Savagely Beaten For Wearing Palin Pins – Including Broken Leg, Jaw, Concussion… Media Silent (UPDATES) Tuesday, April 13, 2010, 5:46 AM Jim Hoft

A Republican activist and her boyfriend were savagely beaten in New Orleans on Friday for wearing Sarah Palin pins.

Free Republic reported:

Allee Bautsch, chief campaign fundraiser for Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal, and her boyfriend Joe Brown, were savagely beaten Friday night in New Orleans after leaving a Republican party fundraising dinner by a group of thugs who reportedly targeted the couple because they were wearing Sarah Palin pins.

Bautch’s leg was broken and Brown incurred a broken jaw and nose as well as a concussion.

The Hayride reports that a source who visited Bautsch at the hospital the day after the attack says they were told the couple was attacked for wearing Palin buttons:

Full story here:

The longer the msm is allowed to lie to the public without serious challenges from the public, "the longer revolutionary principles are allowed to be disseminated, the greater will be the danger-- for in the end they will make it a struggle between youth and age and the weakest shall go to the wall."

Robert Southy, 1819

Allee Butsch suffered a broken leg from the beatdown outside to the SRLC dinner at Brennan’s Restaurant in New Orleans. She had her leg operated on over the weekend and it will take her months to recover. Her boyfriend Joe Brown suffered a broken nose, a broken jaw, and a concussion. They were attacked after leaving the Southern Republican Leadership Conference dinner at Brennan’s Restaurant.

Monday, April 12, 2010

My Conversion to Moderate Christianity

I hit 50, and suddenly I took an interest in death, figuring I should start reading up on it to make as sure as I can that I'm good at it. I'm a bookish kind of guy, in spite of spending most of my life in Third World shit-holes as a lingering war tourist. Books, libraries, museums, art galleries, fields of corpses, burnt cities, fleeting relationships, emotional distance and an ingrained suspicion of strangers. The usual stuff of long-term travellers. So, engrossed in a book on death, sitting quietly alone in soft and clean, sweet-smelling surroundings of Modernity, a fabric chair without a hint of blood-stains, painted walls with no papered-over bullet holes, electric lights that shone continuously and bright, I sat turning pages, turning ideas over in mind, turning like the unhappy deceased in their ditches. Life is so good.

And then, cutting through it all, came the invasion a reader so much hates: the sense of People Around Me. Tense, ready if need to lunge, to plunge, to stab with pen in hand the nostril, the ear, the eye of a foe who could well have come to kill, I raised up my eyes from the page and saw-- a half dozen wide-eyed teens, kids baring their teeth at me, skinny, scruffy boys and girls, the leader of whom, the druggiest looking of all, lilted and wafted a question at me that to this day has my mind agog: "Do you know J'EEE-zuz?"

Like you, dear reader, my first thought too was, "What the fuck?"

It was clear to me the kids wanted something from me, but I didn't know what; and given that caution keeps me alive, that a wrong answer spoken in the right tone can sometimes save a man a few pints of blood, I said, softly, "I've heard of him." To which a girl who looked like she slept outside full-time asked me if I'm a Christian. I said no. She, or maybe another girl, all of them shuffling in front of me in a frantic state, I tell you, said, "If you're not a Christian, what do you do at Christmas time?"

Let me pause here, dear reader, to explain that though I live in a hard world of hard men in hard times, and that times have seen some horrors, in spite of all that I have a soft spot for the weak and the silly, those so often tormented by the rough and vicious, done for sport. I don't like it, my softness, their unwarranted torments. I, (and this might be rare,) I took a deep breath and told them all, though I seldom tell anyone anything, telling being a betrayal of the self that can lead to death, a pointless sentimentality that others can use to do one evil, and I was weak and I told about myself to strangers: that I didn't celebrate Christmas as an adult, though as a child I had. I told them that when I was a child my family, Trotskyites, had allowed me and my little brother to go onto the balcony of our high-rise apartment in the deep of winter so we could drop down conical paper water-cooler cups, the water freezing on the way down, punching holes in the concrete sidewalk below.

One of the kids milling about me mentioned about killing people, but I figured they were too silly in the head for talk like that, those kids, so, being weak, I pointed to my stack of books on death and offered to talk about that instead. Kids. They get bored so quickly, so easily. Not me; I can-- in fact, I do-- I think about death all day and into the night for days and days without end without thinking of anything else, and I'm not bored at all.

All this converges just about here in that I'm thinking of moving to a small town where no one knows me, where I have to meet people who've known each other all their lives, a place where they might not cotton on to strangers, where I have to make myself a fellow they'll admit to their community as a man of some Good Quality.

A friend of a friend, some guy, who knows, told me that to fit in as a citizen of a small town I should go to church and make myself known to the locals. I get it. I get that church is about J'EEE-zuz, and that J'EEE-zuz is dead. I know a fair bit about death and the dead; but J'EEE-zuz? that's not so much on my list. Till recently that is; and being a bookish guy, I looked into it. I'd heard that Christians were and are violent crazies and bigots, the latter type of whom I've known many; and I felt that even if this is true of Christians, I, as a man retiring and hopeful of a quiet place in a small town of stolid, if moralistic, violently bigoted, neighbours, would pride myself on not being anything out of the ordinary, no part of any tiny minority of extremists among them, but a man of the moderate middle.

I asked around about J'EEE-zuz, and eventually, not knowing much about this religious field, I met a man who told me that he knows the story true. OK, he looked like a fucking hippie. His hair was long, he had a beard, and he dressed like a bum. I figured it's authentic, so I listened, and this is part of what he told me:

That 'Jesus was born to a virgin, Miryam, who was expelled from her village, accused by the local women of being a slut. She gave birth to her baby under a palm tree, and when this happened, the ladies of the village surrounded her and attempted to stone her to death. They were stopped when the baby, Jesus, called out to them and told them his mother was not a slut, and that he, Jesus, was the slave of Allah.'

I just want to get along. I nod and smile. I think about death. If this is what it takes, then I'll be a moderate Christian. I'll say what they say. I just want people to like me.

That: 'When the sacred months are over, we should kill the unbelievers wherever we find them, smite their necks, and cut off their finger-tips.'

And: 'Slay them wherever ye find them, and drive them out of the places whence they drove you out, for persecution is worse than slaughter [of non-believers]...and fight them until persecution is no more, and religion is for Allah.'

'Then fight in the cause of Allah, and know that Allah heareth and knoweth all things.'

'Fighting is prescribed for you, and ye dislike it. But it is possible that ye dislike a thing which is good for you, and that ye love a thing which is bad for you. But Allah knoweth, and ye know not.'

'Soon shall We cast terror into the hearts of the Unbelievers, for that they joined companions with Allah, for which He had sent no authority.'

And so on for hundreds of verses in the Bible. I'll get to it in detail maybe later, when I finish getting good at thinking about death. For now, I leave the details about J'EEE-zuz to the experts.

I heard this, though my mind wandered in the hearing, wandered to the time I met a guy like Jesus who was having sex with a nine year old girl, to the time the guy I met was found shot to death in the jungle behind his house. When the villagers found him he'd been dead for a few days, so I can say his missing parts were due to animals feasting. If Jesus had sex with a nine year old girl, well, I guess religion is a sick thing. Maybe that's why some girl whose family Jesus' death squads had killed poisoned him. Maybe it was a lot of things, given the nature of the man. I've met some like him, though frankly, dear reader, none so successful as killers. I'm just going to get along, nod and smile, be a reasonable guy with no deep opinions expressed about it. Christianity is a religion of peace, which I find attractive, given the life I live, and I want to settle in and live a quiet life with my neighbours. When-- and that is, if-- they ever ask me about if I know J'EEE-zuz, then I'll be able to say yes, that he's the man with the gun.

Then they'll maybe leave me to return to my books about death and decomposition. They'll probably like me, and I'll like myself, me being a moderate Christian.

Do I know J'EEE-zuz? Yeah, I know J'EEE-zuz. Man with a gun. Religion of Peace.

Texas, here I come. They're gonna like me. Dag. Moderate Christian.

Bobbing Head Line

Bow to the People's Cube.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Why do they hate us?

Why do Muslims hate us? I'm clueless; so when we got off shift at the saw mill I asked a couple of regular guys at the local tavern what they think the problem is. One said, and this is probably totally right, that Muslims hate us because back in the early 1950s when Stalin was trying to take over the rest of Central Asia, the CIA and the British MI6 got rid of the Communist Iranian, Mohammad Mosaddegh in a coup d'etat. I wondered if it were really a matter of American imperialism, so I asked a couple of women, just to be sure the first wrren't giving me some typical guy answer.
Yeah, they agreed that Muslims hate us because of American imperialism. So now we know. Just gotta ask the right people.