The last two post I published kinda separated the men from the boys. Sorta. A lot of my readers weren’t ready to hear criticism of the Caucasian race, coming from a self-confessed antisemitic Caucasian.
That word sounds exotic…Caucasian…like the inhabitants of a far-flung island somewhere. “We bid aloha to the natives of Caucasia as they man their crudely fashioned boats in search of their daily catch… in this idyllic tropical setting”.
But sigh, it isn’t so. It’s just the guy next door…and next door to him…etc.
Anyway, I watched the film of Gilad Atzmon’s symposium on “jewishness” and I breathed a sigh of relief. A high-five in the air with no flesh to meet mine. Even in his broken restrictive grasp of the English language he can speak more eloquently and succinctly than I, about who and why the real enemy is. Perhaps because he is jewish himself. Perhaps because he is an ex-pat israeli. I dunno. But he gets it. Few do. Most importantly few of us out here where the boots are on the ground and we are holding maps to the flashlight…this way and that…trying to orient ourselves in this new landscape of battle…few understand. Most have their maps upside down. They aren’t seeing the stronghold that the ashkanazi have secured in our society…or for that matter why we know that they are indeed the enemy to raid at dawn.
The toughest part is to attack familiarity. That comforting feeling that things were one way, and like it or not, they should remain that way. That zone in which we know our bearings. We know that things are bad. Sure. We understand there is a reason for this far beyond “human nature”. But do we all grasp that there is virtually nothing that reaches our ears and eyes through the airwaves or in print, that hasn’t gone through a jewish review process? We know that the media is saturated with the zionists, but how deep does it go? Do we understand the rules by which these beasts play? Do we understand the mindset outside of “conspiracy” that rules their everyday behaviour?
I have a friend that recently served a two-week sentence in the southern U. S. Through no fault of his own, he was required, by his job, to serve this time there in a place and culture for which he was not prepared. One evening he had occasion to stop at a local convenience store to pick up a few items, and they having only one check-out lane open, he went and stood behind the only other person there…an elderly Black man. When the man noticed my friend standing behind him, he picked up his purchases off the counter and carried them to a place behind my friend( a Caucasian) and said:” Go ahead, Sir.” Not fully understanding what just happened, my buddy said, “No, no…you were here before me…your first”. The gentleman repeated insistantly, “Naw Sir…y’all go ahead on”.
Taken aback by what was beginning to dawn on my friend as a racial-class thing, he again entreated the man to take his rightful place in line. The elderly man…frustrated…lay down his intended purchases and walked out of the store. My friend having been raised far away from any such goings on was shocked. I understand that. I too would be offended. Not at the Black man, of course…but of the cultural norms that would produce such a scene. If you don’t play by the rules…either don’t play…or get the rules changed.
This kind of behaviour in pockets of the South still exist today…and thrive. But in sharp relief, another such tale.
I was standing in a gas-station line with some ridiculously expensive impulse items that I thought worth the wait to purchase. The line was long and even though I was only two people back from the till, the woman at the counter was chatting with the clerk as if we all had the time to kill. No biggie. As we all waited, I glanced around the store and outside to the pumps. Up pulls a Mercedes SEL to one of them and out steps a man in a suit that probably cost more than my truck. This gentleman…well, was no gentleman as we all were soon to discover. He fiddled with his wallet and credit cards there for a minute then rushed into the store speaking very loudly as he approached the clerk ringing up purchases from the side. He told the clerk to activate the pump he was at and pushed a card at the at the young boy announcing that he should run it through his machine as soon as he had finished pumping as much gas as he wanted, then turned to go back out to his Mercedes. The clerk yelled at the man before he got out, and explained briefly that he would have to wait in line if he wanted to use his card for a gas purchase….like everyone else. This infuriated the motorist. “I don’t have the time to stand around in here…just run the card when I signal to you that I am done!…you think you can handle that?”
Everyone was silent for a few…then the clerk handed the card back to the driver explaining it one more time…slowly. Red-faced and angered…the man exclaimed “Well, I’ll just go somewhere else where my business is appreciated”. As he left…and the stunned silence continued in the store. I just had to(without using the “J” word) break it by saying “some are apparently accustomed to a life of privilege”. That was one of the few hearty laughs I have received from a lot of people… at one time, I mean.
What do these two little vignettes tell us about the state of things? And what do they tell us about the ashkanazi. And what the HELL am I driveling on about this time?
Well, just a few generations ago in the older Black man’s family, the jewish brought him to a land where he was destined to be subservient. Just a few generations ago, the jewish Mercedes driver’s ancestors made a fortune off of such an enterprise. However one set of class-oriented treatment is declining…and the other is increasing. The rich get richer…and we all are becoming slaves. All but the Western jew. And it is this life of privilege that is easier just to laugh off, than the man that was forced to leave his purchases on the counter.
I dunno…these two stories seem important…I don’t know why.