As Muhammad Ali or Mark Twain or Toots Shore or some other great wit of yore observed, “It ain’t braggin’ if it’s true.” Never has that been more true than in the case of your reporter’s brilliant post made on perhaps the single biggest secret of the Covid hoax.
Damn, I’m good.
Call me Dr. Sherlock Kildare.
Hell, I flunked all my high school science classes but I am blessed with an unerring nose for bullshit thanks to my Brooklyn upbringing. And, being congenitally politically incorrect, I have the annoying habit of noticing things.
Things like bullshit.
Things like bureaucrats inadvertently spilling the beans.
So… I was listening to a London talk radio station one day when… better yet… read about my devastating medical detective work in this post I called –
Told ya I’d be back with another installment of my seemingly endless memories of disastrous Christmases past. This time we grab the Red Eye and jet from LA to NYC for yet more Yuletide misery. Enjoy!
O HOLY NIGHT
One year after being dumped by Monica I’m back in New York. Another Christmas Eve. Another girlfriend. Another dumping. This time – Lana. Something about me having no money and being a loser. She has a point. I am once again gainfully employed as a full-time starving actor – fucking adorable but broke. Not what Lana has in mind so –
“Merry Christmas, you’re dumped.”
“Oh yeah? Fuck you! I’ve been given a free ticket to a Broadway show – so there.”
Lana is a model. A beautiful model. With perfect lips. Succulent lips. Dreams are made of such lips. If you don’t believe me just ask the radio station that has chosen Lana’s lips as its new logo currently splashed over every available space in New York City. Walls. Billboards. The sides of buses. Trains. Taxis. As I hurry to the theater, her luscious lips confront me at every turn. In Times Square, Lana’s lips, luminously captured in neon light, tower above me. I am almost hit by a cab decorated with Lana’s lips as I run to touch those very same lips that adorn the back of a bus. Her lips smile at me, seduce me, invite and entice me. Then they chase me down the street taunting, “Loser, loser, loser” until I escape them by ducking into the theater lobby.
When I settle into my seat, I realize that I’ve seen this play before. With Lana. (Choke. Sniffle.) So, there I am contemplating throwing myself off the balcony and thinking – Well, at least I’ll crush some Jews. I am surrounded by Jews. Who else goes to the theater on Christmas Eve? But, overtaken by the spirit of the season, I decide to live and let live. I imagine these theater-loving Hebrews bustling home to enjoy their Chanukah bushes and to drink Christian baby-blood. As I leave the theater a heavy snow is blanketing yesterday’s filthy white pile. The Jefferson Airplane’s lyric comes to me –
City streets in the dead of winter,
Stop your mind with dirty snow.
But, my mind won’t stop. It zooms. I am in my thirties. I’ve limped back to New York after failing in L.A. – limped back for a second dose of the same medicine. A glutton for punishment. No money. No food. No job. No woman. No hope. Walking in Times Square on Christmas Eve with nothing and no one waiting for me at home. Not even a Chanukah Bush. Again, I become Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life. I lean into the biting wind and trudge through the heaping snow, not in Bedford Falls but in Midtown Manhattan searching for a smile, a break. Searching for my life. It was here a minute ago. Crazed, I search for warmth in passing faces but they hurry away. I press my nose against restaurant windows ’til frightened diners have the waiter tap on the glass and chase the bum away. Then I see the brightly flashing lights ahead. Red and green. Not a Christmas tree but the marquee of a porn theater. A sin-pit of the lowest sort.
Hmmnnn…perfect. Dump me on Christmas Eve, will ya? Fine. I’ll wallow in it. What’s the movie? “Snowblowers.” Ah, a seasonal theme. Perfect again.
I buy my ticket comforted by the thought that I will have the Snowblowers all to my lonesome. Enter theater and… the place is packed. Jammed. I have trouble finding a seat. Who knew there were this many sad, lonely, desperate losers in New York on Christmas Eve? But, maybe they’re just killing time ‘til Midnight Mass.
Snowblowers is neither Christmas In Connecticut nor The Miracle On 34th Street. In fact, the movie is so out-of-focus and out-of-sync that it’s difficult to discern who is doing what to what part of whom. I think the plot involves flabby-assed actresses performing a variety of sex acts while on skis with hairy-assed actors also on skis. I worry the performers risk frostbite on their asses, whether flabby or hairy.
Divertimento on Porn Etiquette
In those golden days of yesteryear, there were strict codes of conduct in porn theaters and dirty bookstores. In the latter, it was thought rude to pick up a porn magazine immediately after another sticky-fingered voyeur had put it down. The girl in that magazine was still his girl. It was best to let some time pass and allow the couple to come to terms with their recent break-up. Then you were free to paw over Teenage Enema Bandits.
In porn cinemas, as in all cinemas, it was held inconsiderate, threatening and sexually provocative to sit right next to, directly in front of or (worse) directly behind someone when there were other seats available. It pains me to report that some lost souls went to porn theaters expressly to jack-off or to be jacked-off. I was never among their number. My preference was to sit far apart, all the better to enjoy the mise en scène. And, to avoid being hit by recklessly extruded seminal fluid.
Porn theaters, like strip-shows, were remarkably somber affairs. The men hunkered down to watch and/or wank in silence. No chitchat. No popcorn passing. Definitely no eye contact. You didn’t want to risk being recognized.
“Murray, what the hell are you doing here?”
Furthermore, a wisp too much eye-contact with the flaming Black fairies who walked up and down the center aisle, licking their lips while looking into laps, might suggest you were happy to let them get a lip-lock on your love-monkey. No. And again, no! Eyes straight ahead.
fine
In the middle of Snowblowers just as the star blower is fellating her shivering co-star on a toboggan, I become aware of a commotion at the end of my aisle. A suburban daddy is awkwardly climbing and tripping his way over the masturbating men while loaded down with his Christmas treasures. He is juggling bags from Saks, Macy’s and Bloomingdales.
“Excuse me, Merry Christmas. Oops, scuse me, please. Merry Christmas. I’m terribly sorry to trouble you but could I possibly sneak past. Merry Christmas.” And, he is off to catch the last train to Westchester. The erotic mood destroyed, I let Mr. Westchester run interference for me through the aisle-fairies and follow him out into the blizzard.
Lights get turned off even on the Great White Way and much of Midtown is now dark. Lana’s neon lips are a grey ghost drained of all erotic power. I tramp downtown as far as the Village where, ashamed and ascared, I grab a bagel and the subway and make for Brooklyn. I make for home.
__________________________
Available as a paperback and eBook here and here and as an eBook here
The Appalachian Mountains of Eastern Tennessee – God’s Country!
I HAD BEEN LIVING in London for three decades when a voice in my head began nagging me. “Yankee Go Home,” it said. I believe all ex-pats hear this voice no matter what their home country. It’s natural to want to be home especially as we age. And though I remain eternally grateful to Britain for giving me the use of the hall for so long, I had fallen out of love with the place and the feeling was mutual.
The London I moved to thirty years earlier had become unrecognizable. Believe it or not, back then, London was shut on Sundays and the idea of a Muslim mayor was laughable. (A Hindu Prime Minister? Impossible.) In fact, I was shocked in 1990 when I saw just one completely veiled Muslim woman on the street! For the first twenty years of my London adventure, crime – especially violent crime – was very low and there was a general orderliness and decency about the place. (At least compared to the New York City I had fled.) I miss London circa 1990 as I miss New York circa 1956. Sadly, both cities are gone forever.
By 2010, I was looking behind me on the streets and looking at anti-FGM billboards on the tubes. I also had to slalom through a feces-strewn tent city to get into my tube station. Then I had a fist fight with a pickpocket on a London bus (I won) and the police questioned me! Before my eyes, London had morphed into Detroit with a few Ye Olde touristy bits. It was time for this actor to exit and pronto.
Some readers may remember my earlier post “Fade to Black” which catalogued the deliberate discrimination against White performers. (The best-selling thriller author James Patterson says that White writers now face the same attack.) Well… since the BLM riots and media company capitulation to the Black mobs, that anti-White discrimination has increased exponentially. Anyone who watches film and TV now recognizes how much non-White faces have invaded our screens. So, I was facing a future as an old White actor in London who would be unemployable or offered roles in anti-White garbage that I would never accept. Then Covid hit and I was shocked and disappointed by how easily the Brits surrendered. Other nations did the same but somehow, I expected better of the British. So… in May of 2021 – feeling as though I was escaping East Berlin in the Cold War – I split for points West.
Davy Crockett
Strange to report, this Brooklyn boy didn’t end up back on the stoops of Brooklyn but rather in the Appalachian Mountains of Eastern Tennessee – Davy Crockett country! In 1955, like every other kid in the US, I lived in my Davy Crockett coonskin cap. Now, by some strange twist of fate, I was living a stone’s throw from Davy’s birthplace. And it’s as close to a Goldilocks spot as you could find. The waves of White urbanites fleeing here prove my point. The terrain is beautiful, the climate temperate, the demographics 95% White, and, prior to the Biden economy, it was remarkably affordable. Sadly, in my one year in this demi-paradise the price of gas has doubled with no ceiling in sight and food prices are skyrocketing, too.
More bad news is that the anti-White bias controls show business here, too. The casting notices for screen, stage, or voice work are all skewed toward non-Whites and people who clearly have more genders than sense. The producers and directors trumpet their preferred pronouns and expect me to do the same. (I don’t.) The Web pages of regional theaters are plastered with Black faces giving the impression that theater is an almost exclusively Negro invention and activity. And these theatres proclaim that their primary mission is not to put on good productions of plays that a paying audience might enjoy seeing, but rather to promote racial equality, social justice, diversity, and inclusion — especially for the LGBTQLMNOP+ community. When I phone the office of the Screen Actors Guild, I am given a list of options to dial if I have experienced racial or sexual abuse. It’s revealing that I am not given a phone option if I, as a worker, feel I have been monetarily abused. The once mighty SAG union has been effectively busted by the Jewish media moguls who claim to be all for social justice.
Tennessee is a solid red (Republican) state, and I am living in the reddest part of that state. This is Trump Country. I landed here only a few months after Biden took office, but the roads were already lined with Trump 2024 signs, and I regularly see hilariously filthy anti-Biden bumper stickers too vulgar to recount. The folk here are very, very pro-police and pro-military. Tennessee is known as the Volunteer State because it has always sent more men per capita to the military than any other.
Veterans are worshipped here. They get special sales, parking spots, and meal deals. I’m the only guy not wearing a t-shirt declaring “Proud Vietnam War Veteran” or “Proud Korean War Veteran.” Many wear hats that proclaim, “Proud Wounded Veteran” or, even better, “Proud Battle-Wounded Veteran.” The sad truth is that these brave men are knee-jerk super-patriots. They were cannon fodder but can’t admit it. As much as they despise Biden, if he sent them into battle, they would click their heels (even their prosthetic ones) and be off. As far as they are concerned, no American ever fought in an unjust war.
The spoils of war.
I believe this mindset is a legacy of the Civil War. Southern men, with their British blood, love to fight. But they also feel a need to prove they are loyal to the union. I’ve seen this same syndrome in Mormons who also had a long history of bloody opposition to the rest of America. That’s why they disproportionately serve in the FBI and CIA. This “rah-rah the flag” mentality makes discussing American foreign policy a minefield. I have used the Russia-Ukraine war to make some progress, but I first must counter the anti-Russia nonsense they’ve been fed by the media including Fox News.
I thought there were lots of churches in Rome until I moved to Eastern Tennessee. There are churches everywhere here, even in the middle of the forest. Baptist is by far the most common denomination, but there are more versions of Baptist than Heinz has beans. Then there are the other major Protestant groups along with Church of Christ, Church of God, and assorted micro-denominations. Catholics are rarer than rocking-horse shit. In fact, when I tell people I’m an ex-Catholic they look for my horns and hooves. I’m told that in one church very near me they handle snakes. But don’t get the impression I’m living in a hillbilly holler. This region has ballet companies and symphonies. Life is very similar in the Appalachian Mountains up and down the East Coast. Anyone familiar with the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania or the Adirondacks of New York would feel at home here.
That Old Rugged Cross
Everyone I meet invites me to their church, so I’ve been to quite a few. The services are bland with decent contemporary Gospel singing and generic “Jesus loves you” sermons. The congregants are ancient and busily waiting for The Rapture. They are instinctively against all the right things like globohomo and open borders but are unaware that organized Jewry is pushing these poisons. Most have never even met a Jew in their lives. (The same is true in Mormon Utah.) Most churches are not explicitly Christian Zionist, but they have a Disneyfied picture of the Twelve Tribes. In their artwork, Moses looks like Charlton Heston and the ancient Jews look Bavarian. This makes it difficult to make them see the truth about modern Jews and the criminal state of Israel. After all, “That nice Charlton Heston wouldn’t do anything un-Christian to us.”
The Hebe of their dreams.
The naïveté of these Christians extends to homosexuality. They are vehemently against it but don’t really know how truly degenerate it is. It is beyond their comprehension and simply too distasteful to discuss. As a result, some queers are making headway in the local school system pushing those “Cindy Has Two Mommies” books. I raised the issue with several local politicians. They simply could not comprehend what I was talking about and didn’t want to know. So, ironically, the unspeakable nature of homosexuality is its best defense.
Love Is Love
Against my better judgement, I attended a 100% White Republican Party luncheon and, as I feared, it was full of back-slapping Chamber of Commerce types and their former beauty queen wives. None of the candidates who addressed us said anything of substance or that couldn’t have been said by a Democrat. Not a peep about race or the Great Replacement Policy. In private conversation, I asked the candidates some tough questions about race, but they brushed them off as not relevant because we’re all God’s children. (Christianity is a big problem for White nationalism!) I later learned that most of these candidates run unopposed, so they have become complacent.
These politicians and their constituents are in for a shock and a fight. The forces of darkness have crept into these mountains while their backs were turned. There is now an Islamic Cultural Center here.
The regional airport will no doubt soon be forced to accept Biden’s secret nighttime flights filled with non-White invaders. One local church has just imported an Afghani family with their entire village soon to follow, along with their goats. And, as is always the case, the local university is a haven to Jewish professors and pink-haired, morbidly obese creatures of dubious sexuality. I doubt these psycho-sexual misfits can find common cause with the native conservative Christians. I predict conflict in the not-too-distant future. The locals better conjure the fighting spirit of their British pioneer ancestors, or they will go the way of the dodo.
Calling All Celts!
I oppose violence and would never condone or encourage it. But as America faces social collapse and the inevitable chaos it brings; it is comforting to know that there are four million registered deer hunters in Pennsylvania alone. I doubt many of those are non-binary. Tennessee is even more gun-friendly. The media-hyped mass shootings in America just increase gun sales here. (By the way, the US ranks only 64th in the world in mass shootings!) In fact, in this state you don’t even need a license to own a gun and concealed carry licenses are easy to come by. The men I see in Walmart with shirts hanging over their belts are concealing more than their beer guts. That said, this is the most peaceful region I’ve ever lived in. Maybe it’s because so many people are armed. In my one year here, I have not seen one violent incident or even heard a raised voice.
In some ways, America is little changed in my thirty years away. The shape of daily life is about the same. Ubiquitous phones, social media, and technology are one definite change and one for the worse. But the rise of entitlement culture is the biggest change I’ve seen. The glorification of victimhood and vulnerability. The rampant narcissism. I believe a certain Austrian painter called it, “The tyranny of the unwell.”
Thanks to voter fraud, the Democrats avoided being wiped out in the recent mid-term elections. But the results proved this is a 50-50 country with no hopes of reconciliation. The left and right need a no-fault divorce. The Whites and non-Whites need racial separation. Barring those rational, compassionate solutions things will get very ugly.
Meanwhile, the race to replace Biden as the Democrat nominee in 2024 will be as heated as that to replace Johnson in 1968. I predict this period will be similarly riot-filled and blood-soaked. All the entitled minority factions will be off the chain. And I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather ride out the storm than smack dab in Davy Crockett country!
________________________
Available as a paperback and eBook here and here and as an eBook here
In high school English class, whenever we were told to submit an essay of more than two words in length, we immediately resorted to padding our work with a big fat quotation from the dictionary. Good for fifty words at least. (Hehehe.)
For example:
Jack Antonio: Sophomore 2A
Subject: Literary themes
As we ponder the question of theme in James Fenimore Cooper’s immortal tome The Last of the Mohicans, it behoves us to reflect upon what Mister Merriam Webster had to say on the subject of literary themes.
Then followed as much of the dictionary material as I dared risk sneaking by my teacher.
Yeah, yeah, Chingachgook, I know now that Merriam Webster was two guys but I was sixteen then so gimme a break. If you’re so smart, you write the fuckin’ essay!
Therefore, in tribute to my literary criticisms of yore, I now choose to begin this essay on the theme of masks with a quotation from my main-man Merriam.
MASK
/mask/
Noun
a covering for all or part of the face, worn as a disguise, or to amuse or terrify other people.
I am sure we can all agree with Merriam that masks have their time and place and have been part of the human experience for eons.
TO DISGUISE
TO AMUSE
TO TERRIFY
But the time and place for these Covid masks is not here and not now. As the Brits say, “They are well past their sell-by date.”
Trust me, only pea brains wear masks while driving alone in a car or walking down the street or through a park or standing online at a shop or ATM or anythefuckwhere.
Worst of all are the designer masks and worst of those are the masks that try to be funny or clever.
“Hey, you in the mask, lissen ta me now. I’m your best friend coz I’ll tell you the truth. You look like a fuckin’ jerk in that thing and your humor is tame and trite.”
TAKE THE MASK OFF
Children especially little children must see faces especially faces of adults and most especially faces of adult strangers in order to learn how to read faces for signs of safety or danger.
It pains me every time I see a masked adult smiling at a child only to realize the kid can’t see that smile.
The human face is the most expressive single thing in the animal kingdom. It is inhumane to deny humans access to their glorious instrument of communication.
The subtlety of meaning and mood that can be conveyed by the lifting of an eyebrow or the pursing of a lip is a wonder to behold and it is a crime that these miracles of expression have been censored from daily life for more than a year.
Forget the emotional and psychological damage caused by the mask-mania, how about the health damage?
Dentists report that wearing masks is causing a marked increase in tooth decay and gum disease.
Dermatologists report a marked increase in serious skin infections.
Pulmonologists report a marked increase in deadly pulmonary infections including pneumonia.
So what does Tony “I’m not a real scientist but I play one on TV” Fauci suggest?
Wear two and even three masks!
PURE GENIUS
Faithful readers of this blog will remember that over a year ago I reported that the Head Chemist (Pharmacist) at the UKs top drugstore chain warned that wearing masks was counter-productive and even dangerous.
They shut him up right quick! Last I heard, he was delivering prescriptions by row boat in the Outer Hebrides.
Sure, the all-knowing, all-powerful third-rate-minds at the CDC have announced a partial lifting of the mask mandate but that is subject to review and removal at any time.
Meanwhile, much of the world is still under full face lockdown.
Watch and see how many sheeple continue to wear masks begging to be abused just as all good masochists beg for the lash.
Don’t believe me?
Look at how many halfwits have happily embraced the mask and made it into a virtue signalling billboard,
Then there are those money-grubbing scumbags who marketed ever more ridiculous variants of the muzzle.
Convenient while eating shit with both hands.
Oh, how we laughed while watching the movie Naked Gun when Leslie Nielsen and Priscilla Presley donned full body condoms at the height of the AIDS hysteria.
Honestly, can you imagine anyone being that stupid?
Welp…
You heard of the boy in the bubble? Meet the band in the bubbles.
And, Daddy-O you ain’t heard a tuba wail some blues until you’ve heard it from inside a resealable baggie.
Remember that according to Merriam Webster masks are:
TO DISGUISE
TO AMUSE
TO TERRIFY
Don’t let them terrify you!
Take that filthy, useless rag off your face and breathe the air of health, reason and freedom.
So, I was listening to an African lady doctor being interviewed on a major talk radio station.
This gal is a world-renowned expert on infectious disease and works for W.H.O.
For those of you who haven’t been paying attention, W.H.O. is the World Health Organisation of the United Nations. Along with being notoriously corrupt and inept, it’s the main purveyor of the pandemic hoax.
Anyway… this woman explained that Black African immigrants have higher rates of Covid infection and death than Whites due to “cultural factors.”
What she dared not say was those factors include all too many Blacks believing wacknoid conspiracy theories about Western medicine being part of a genocidal program perpetrated against them by evil Whitey. So, even those Blacks genuinely infected with Covid (or, anything) avoid effective health care.
Hell, Africans still consult witch doctors when plagued with pesky problems like kuru, scrofula and, uh, well… plague.
Hell, in Africa, witch doctors chop albinos into little pieces to make magic potions to cure impotence, dandruff and the heartbreak of psoriasis.
And you thought I was joshin’ ya.
Hell, in Africa, men rape infants to cure AIDS.
If that isn’t happening then why are charities asking me to give money to stop it?
The African doctoress went on the say that many “people of color” including those of African descent work at “ground zero” of Covid – public transportation, care homes and hospitals. Then, she inadvertently spilled the beans –
“The sad truth is that the vast majority of non-White immigrants who come to the West carry latent TB.”
That was when your correspondent spat his Fruit Loops all over his radio.
“Whoa, whoa, rewind – WHATTHEFUCK???!!!”
When I was a kid in Brooklyn, we joked that TB stood for Twisted Balls. Now, let it be said that Twisted Balls is nothing to sneeze at. In fact, sneezing whilst afflicted with Twisted Balls must really, really smart. But that’s not the TB to which our Black lady clinician was referring. No, she meant Tuberculosis. Ya know, Tuberculosis? The world’s most infectious and deadly bronchial infection?
Yeah, that TB.
Now lemme think… wasn’t there something in the news recently about a super-infectious and potentially deadly bronchial infection making the rounds? Hmmmnnn… wait… it’ll come to me… oh, yeah – Covid -19.
Curious to a fault, your intrepid reporter felt compelled to consult his well-thumbed copies of Gray’s Anatomy and Funk & Wagnalls dictionary plus official government websites where he learned this –
If you have latent TB, the TB bacteria in your body are ‘asleep’. You are not ill and you cannot pass TB on to others.
However, the bacteria might ‘wake up’ many years later, making you ill with active TB.
Latent TB bacteria are more likely to wake up if you experience lifestyle stresses or other illnesses that weaken your immune system.
Uh… might working at “ground zero” of Covid count as a stressful lifestyle?
Uh… any chance Covid might weaken a person’s immune system?
But, enough about them. How ‘bout us?
If you were already battling a serious bronchial infection would you want to be driven, nursed or doctored by someone carrying the most infectious and deadly bronchial infection known to man?
Be honest now. Would ya? Huh?
Lest you think I am being a meanie to those poor folks from the Third World who are sadly afflicted with TB, I remind you that during the Great European Migration into America, White immigrants deemed physically or mentally unfit were shipped back whence they came.
White criminals, lunatics and those with TB were (Quite rightly) kicked the fuck out no matter how old they were.
The ships that had allowed sick Whites to board were hit with heavy fines. So much for give us your tired, your poor…
Today, our governments literally invite the sick into our countries while airlines compete to see which can fly in more of the “wretched refuse.”
Hmmn… better make that “wretched andretching refuse.”
Here comes the $64,000 Covid Question
And , it’s a two-parter –
The same creeps who are pushing the official Covid narrative are those pushing for open borders and all the other outrages that will lead to The Great Replacement.
So… Hands on buzzers, contestants.
Do these creeps not know that TB is rampant in immigrants from the Third World? (In which case, they are criminally ignorant, medically incompetent and should not be allowed to dispense a single aspirin.)
Or, do they know and are eager to flood the West with millions of ticking TB time-bombs which could explode at any time causing financial ruin and widespread death?
It’s one or the other boys and girls.
Back in my misspent Brooklyn boyhood I heard this ditty –
TB or not TB?
That is the congestion.
Consumptive be done about it?
Of cough, of cough.
But not for a lung, lung time.
Funny how prescient kid’s can be.
Funny how Covid is being used to distract us from a genuine threat to our existence.
Thanks for visiting my blog. It is a sampler of my murder-memoir Boy Outa Brooklyn. The best way to enjoy it is to start at the first post and read chronologically. I hope you’ll find it both hilarious and horrifying.
I will also be posting about the best books, movies and songs about Brooklyn. And, sharing my practical and off-beat travel tips. If you enjoy my blog, please follow me. Hover your mouse in the lower right corner of the screen and a pop-up box will appear. Enter your email address and you’ll never miss one of my posts. Your address will not be sold or shared and you won’t be pestered with any sales cons.
Last time out, I took the ladies on a tour of vintage how-to books plus ads in magazines and comic books to see what wisdom and good ol’ common sense was available to their grandmothers and even great-grandmothers.
Now, it’s your turn.
Believe it or not, there was a time when every boy was expected to be (and wanted to be) handy around the house and handy with his fists.
Curious and capable.
Strong and straight.
Skilled.
Our enemies feared this breed of boy and began a constant campaign of criticism and ridicule against all the manly virtues that had been the norm.
The result?
Several generations of sissies who mutilate their bodies and are incapable of throwing a ball, changing a lightbulb, cooking a steak or winning fair maiden’s heart.
If you are one of these suicides-in-training, I urge you to follow the advice of yesteryear and snap the fuck out of your deluded, deballed, deracinated life and fight your way back to he-man health and happiness.
If you are a mother, please raise your boys to be men not feminized mama’s boys.
If you are a woman, do yourself a favor and encourage the boys and men in your life to act like real men.
Ladies, you’ll thank me for it.
Ready, boys? Repeat after me, “Curls for the girls!“
Weight lifting is a cheap, fast and easy way to gain muscle, lose flab and increase testosterone.
No excuses! You’re never too young or too old to get fit.
The health “nut” Bernard Macfadden at 65.
Hey, ya wanna meet girls?
Stop playing computer games and start playing a musical instrument.
Chicks really dig drummers!
Yo, Dudes, learn to dance!
Girls love to dance and they love boys who can dance!
Go to church dances and you will meet great girls!
Don’t forget what they say about artists and models…
Invite a dame up to your pad to see your etchings.
Remember – our enemy wants you to be dumbed-down, doped-up, docile and dependent.
Don’t be that dipshit.
Read, read and then read some more!
You are the keepers of the flame!
You are the keepers of the watch!
You must hit the bullseye every time.
You must keep your powder dry!
Even The Bambino knew…
Armed with all those skills, you will be ready for your most important duty in life – being guardian of the family and our children’s future.
Our eternal enemies hate and fear everything this image represents. That’s why they mock it.
In case you missed this momentous leap forward for mankind…
“Give me your tired, your poor, your children’s genitals.”
So… an insane man pretending to be a woman and who may have castrated himself in pursuit of his delusional belief that he was born in the wrong body will be safe-guarding America’s health. And, since Richard Levine is a pediatrician, you can bet he will have special interest in the genitals of America’s children.
And.. continuing with his “all-trannies, all the time” agenda, Biden has doubled down on allowing psycho-sexual misfits to serve in the military.
Publicity still from Four Jills in a Jeep?
Nope
Remake of Some Like It Hot?
Guess again.
Outtakes from I Was a Male War Bride?
Nah
The above pair of lunatics are America’s first line of defence against all enemies foreign and domestic. And, I don’t mean fly-away hair and nylon runs.
“Terrorist attack? Oh, fudge, I just did my nails!”
But, surely, you say, our allies haven’t succumbed to this faux-female and female-at-any-price madness. Au contraire. Meet Maggie De Block, Belgium’s former Minister of Health. You read that right – HEALTH.
Our Maggie is a real woman – as far as I know and care to find out. But Minister of Health? The fuckoutahere. Minister of Godiva chocolate maybe. But wait, Ms. De Block has eaten her way to a bigger and better job. She is now a W.H.O. Commissioner of HEALTH.
Meanwhile back in the way-out world of America’s 46th president aka the most powerful man in the world…
Biden’s defenders insist that he isn’t senile. Okay. That means he knowingly appointed ten Zionist Jews to the top ten posts in his cabinet.
Zionist Jews are usually dual-citizens of Israel.
Dual citizen = Dual loyalty.
Dual citizens of the U.S. and Israel are notoriously prone to control by the Israeli intelligence agency Mossad.
That means President Joe Biden knowingly put the United States of America into the hands of agents of a foreign power.
So, I got an email from amazon claiming that some of my recent reviews had not followed its “community guidelines” and had caused offence i.e. some of my reviews had cost Jeff Bezos a few shekels. Trust me, I write honest reviews good and bad. I like nothing better than praising a well written book or recommending a product that’s worth its price. Sadly, I don’t get to write either of those very often. But when a book or widget is good, I am fulsome in my praise.
If it’s crap, I dip my quill in venom and say so in strong but never vulgar language. In fact, my bad reviews are very funny. Sarcasm is the best revenge.
I got to thinkin’ about amazon’s “community guidelines” and what constitutes “offensive” material in the eyes of Jeff Bezos. So, I played a game. I entered every sexual kink and perversion I could think of (including ILLEGAL ones) into the amazon search engine and whatayaknow…
Jeff Bezos is happily selling everything from Analingus to Zoophilia.
For those of you in the back of the classroom that means everything from sex with shit to sex with Shih Tzus. Okay, that’s a cute little bow but, “Come on, Jeff.”
Don’t get me wrong. I’m no prude as my long-suffering readers can attest. My memoir Boy Outa Brooklyn is plenty dirty but it’s honest, clean dirt not juvenile jerk-off junk. Further, I believe that what consenting, adult Shih Tzus do in the privacy of their kennel is their business.
But I wanna know how come books celebrating sex with the family or the family dog do not offend and are not against amazon’s “community guidelines ” while books questioning any part of the official “holocaust narrative” of WW2 or any aspect of the Covid-hoax are immediately censored?
Hmmmnnnn…
Don’t believe me? Play my game yourself.
Imagine the most degenerate, unnatural activity you can. Then enter that term in the amazon search bar and stand back.
Here are my favorite deviant-discoveries for sale on amazon with the much vaunted “Jeff Bezos Seal of Approval” –
This next title is too good to miss –
Housewife Lesbian Babysitter
Remember that you can’t sell or buy books on amazon that in any way question the official “holocaust narrative” of WW2. But that doesn’t mean Jeff won’t sell you some holocaust porn… er, I meant to say holocaust erotica – a genre very popular in… Israel.
This fräulein gives Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS a run for the money. Believe it or not, The Toymaker and the Nazi Sadomasochist was not short-listed for a Pulitzer.
If we’re supposed to be worried about Covid infection when someone gets within three feet of us or doesn’t wear a mask then we better be worried big-time about getting within a mile of anyone who dreams of or dabbles in the depravities depicted above. You better pray they’re using hand sanitizer!
The National Socialists are condemned for being book burners. But they didn’t burn classics. They burned unnatural and unhealthy trash like the books for sale on ever-so progressive and enlightened amazon.
You asked for it, you got it! Here’s my latest hard-boiled homage to the tough-guy reporters of yesteryear – Walter Winchell and Jimmy Cannon.
Supreme Court cutie Ruth Bader Ginsberg crowed many times that her Jewishness shaped her judicial outlook . . . Not the Bill of Rights, the Torah . . . Not the Federalist Papers, the Talmud . . . Not the Constitution, the Kaballah . . . So I guess it was her Jewishness that made Ruthie promote lowering the age of sexual consent to twelve . . . TWELVE . . . TWELVE!!!! . . .
R.I.P. RBG
The last known living photo of Judge Ginsberg.
Here’s a definition of chutzpah: Ginsberg, the champion of affirmative action, hired only one Black law clerk during her forty year judicial career. FORTY YEARS. ONE BLACK . . . She claimed she couldn’t find any more who were qualified . . . I call that “affirmative action for thee but not for me” . . . The Noxious RBG spent her last four years on the bench in a coma with her law clerks propping her up like the eponymous hero of the movie Weekend at Bernie’s . . .
That’s our gal Ruthie in the middle.
Had Ruthie not been so high-on-her-own-supply and convinced she was the “indispensable” woman, she would/could have retired when Obama was President thus assuring that someone equally toxic would have taken her place . . . Funny how karma bites even the most high and mighty on their high and mighty asses, ain’t it . . . But, waaaaiiittt a minute here, Ruth Bader Ginsberg said that the Black football players in the NFL (Negro Felon League) were “stupid and disrespectful” for kneeling during the national anthem. That’s not nice . . .
Yo, Colin, my man, the ‘fro, can we talk?
Saint Ruthie wasn’t the only extreme libtard with “surprising” views on race and sex . . . Che Guevera (the Left’s favorite pin-up) said, “Mexicans are a band of illiterate Indians” and “The black is indolent and a dreamer; spending his meagre wage on frivolity or drink.” . . .
Che (the most reproduced face in history aside from Christ) was no friend of the LGBTQ crowd. In fact, he called homosexuals “scum” and put them in concentration camps where they labored beneath a sign that wittily proclaimed, “Work will make you men.” . . . Some say that sort of anti-gay vitriol only comes from a closet queen. Hmmmnnnn . . .
Che doing his famous impersonation of Ruth Bader Ginsberg.
Speaking of the “lavender lads” – it’s being whispered in the corridors of power that Chief Justice John Roberts is “light in the loafers” and is being blackmailed by a certain tribe of rootless-cosmopolitans? . . . This explains his lurch to the Left . . .
Roberts and his long-suffering beard, er… I mean, wife.
Not possible? Welp, the Mafia blackmailed and deballed the famous “crime buster” of the 1950s Sen. Estes Kefauver with pix of his pussy-hound ways . . .
The Senator’s coonskin cap drove the gals plum crazy. Or, maybe they thought they were fucking Fess Parker.
Yup, Ol’ Estes made JFK look like a choirboy . . . As long as we’re talkin’ about choirboys . . .
Joel Osteen runs a mega-church in Dallas. He is the most popular televangelist in America.
This squeaky-clean holy-huckster isn’t preaching the Gospel. He’s just sprinkling a bit of Jesus over Napoleon Hill’s classic self-help book Think and Grow Rich. . . Hey, how come we let immigrants with tuberculosis, polio and even plague flood into our countries but if your dog isn’t vaccinated you’re in big trouble? . . . John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival had never been to Louisiana or even seen the Mississippi River before he wrote Proud Mary and other songs about the Bayou . . . In pre-WW2 Hollywood, actors were blacklisted for not being commies . . . Ronald Reagan’s film career tanked when “liberal” Hollywood blacklisted him for daring to clean the commies out of the Screen Actors Guild while he was union president . . . Morons who mock Reagan’s acting have never seen King’s Row, Juke Girl or Storm Warning . . .
This scribe is no fan of chimp comedies but Ronnie was better with a chimp co-star in Bedtime for Bonzo than Cary Grant was in Monkey Business.
As long as were discussing simians in the cinema – George Floyd fucked-on-film in porn movies . . . This just in – evidence has emerged (seen by your reporter) that Georgie Boy Floyd was a longtime police informant (snitch) – that’s considered the lowest form of life in the ‘hood. . . Meanwhile, Floyd’s fellow-felon Jacob Blake whose shooting caused all the kerfuffle in Kenosha, Wisconsin had a habit of raping women including his baby-mama. He raped her while her young daughter was in the bed next to her. The insistent dusky Casanova forced his fingers into his beloved’s vagina, smelled them and opined, “It smells like you bins wit udder mens.” . . . His baby-mama tearfully testified to this and, ya know, we gotta believe the woman . . . She called the cops to arrest Blake. He attacked the cops, was shot while reaching for a weapon and was left paralyzed from the waist down . . . Mayhaps the unfortunate Blake’s sexual activity will be restricted to digital insertion (hopefully consensual) for the foreseeable . . .
Jazz singer Lorez Alexandria was as good as any of ‘em and better than most.
But unlucky Lorez never had that all-important hit record so she never got the bookings and acclaim she deserved . . . One dame who got nothing but undeserved acclaim was Margaret Mead the most famous woman in Cultural Anthropology . . .
Here’s Maggie getting fashion tips from the locals. ‘Scuse me but isn’t that what’s called “cultural appropriation?”
Maggie was hoaxed by the South Sea island teens when she wrote her famous pro-Brown, anti-White study Coming of Age in Samoa . . . Turns out their society was actually very straight-laced and violent – not at all the peaceful, sexual paradise the dim-witted Mead portrayed . . .
Cultural Bullshit
Mead was a student of the Jewish-Marxist Franz Boas. He invented the pseudo-science of Cultural-Anthropology which holds that a Bantu banging on a tree trunk in the jungle is of equal artistic value to the work of Bach . . .
Franz Boas demonstrating how he squats to pee.
Guess what? Franny’s famous skull measurement studies which supposedly proved racial equality have been exposed as totally bogus . . . Boas cooked the books to push his anti-White Marxist crap . . . He was as crooked as that other fraud Sigmund Freud . . . Meanwhile, I’m scratchin’ my noggin’ over why people who have never owned slaves should pay slavery reparations to people who have never been slaves . . . Heard on the Rialto and Rodeo Drive: Meghan Markle is the most pretentious, presumptuous twat in public life and has already worn out her welcome stateside . . .
The Woman Who Would Be Queen aka The Mulatto Greta Thunberg
Tell ya the truth, I’d sooner listen to political punditry from Scary Spice . . . Fred Astaire failed an early Hollywood screen test with this critique, “Can’t act. Can’t sing. Slightly bald. Can dance a little.” . . .
Here’s another showbiz “ouch” – Broadway producer Cheryl Crawford turned down Arthur Miller’s great play Death of a Salesman with this note, “Who wants to see a play about a traveling salesman?” . . . So explain to me why the same loons who say there is no such thing as gender are screeching that there must be a female President . . . Here’s some good news – the future belongs to the fertile. The gender-liquid brigade, the cis-phobic snowflakes and other assorted psycho-sexual misfits aren’t reproducing . . . Wanna know who is breeding? Mormons, Amish, Hasids, Muslims and Evangelical Christians. Looks like the future belongs to the fundamentalists, too . . .
The Roman poet Horace predicted this state of affairs with – “You can chase Mother Nature out with a pitchfork but she will always return.”
Epictetus, another Roman smarty-pants, cautioned people in the first century not to talk about themselves at dinner parties. The first century!!!
Winston Churchill, Dwight Eisenhower and Charles de Gaulle each wrote multi-volume histories of WW2 . . . These three wartime titans devoted about a paragraph each to European Jewry with no mention of gas chambers . . . Betcha didn’t know this – the British almost dropped the atomic bombs on Japan using their Lancaster bombers coz America’s B-29s were too small . . . Elvis Presley “The King” died on the “throne” whilst straining at stool . . . But even in the worst of Presley’s stupid movies there is at least one good tune . . . Barbara Streisand wanted Elvis to co-star with her in A Star Is Born but after one meeting with Babs, The King took a pasadena . . . Who sez Elvis was a dumb hillbilly? . . .
Elvis doing his famous impersonation of Ruth Bader Ginsberg.
Laurence Olivier almost played the Marlon Brando role in The Godfather . . . Robert Redford almost played the Dustin Hoffman role in The Graduate . . . Jackie Gleason almost played the Gene Hackman role in The French Connection. . . If you think Jackie would have been a weird choice then you obviously haven’t seen him in Requiem for a Heavyweight and The Hustler . . . “The Great One” was a great actor . . . Mary Baker Eddy, the deranged founder of Christian Science, insisted her flock eschew doctors and medicine coz the body and pain didn’t exist; only spirit was real and flesh was an illusion . . . But this holy-hypocrite secretly visited dentists where she insisted on massive doses of pain killers . . .
Mary Baker Eddy – 19th Century Bunny Boiler.
Surprisingly, the arch-cynic Mark Twain flirted with Christian Science then came to his senses and wrote a hilarious critique of the cult . . . For many decades, the Twain book was as rare-as-rocking-horse-shit coz Christian Scientists (on orders from the paranoid Mary Baker Eddy) found and destroyed copies . . .
The Jewish Communist traitors Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were guilty as hell of giving atomic secrets to Joseph Stalin
Uncle Joe was the second greatest mass murderer of the 20th century second only to that other commie-creep – Mao Zedong . . . Your correspondent laughs and cheers when he imagines the repulsive Julius and Ethel frying in the electric chair at Sing-Sing . . . To his everlasting credit, Judge Kaufman (the Rosenberg’s co-religionist) who presided at their trial blamed them for the deaths of 38,000 American soldiers in Korea . . . That war only happened coz Stalin was emboldened by the nuclear weapons he had acquired thanks to the secrets the Rosenberg scum had given him . . . Another of the Rosenberg’s co-religionists – Congressman Samuel Dickstein actually took money from Stalin to betray America . . . And still they kvetch when people question their loyalty . . .
The Rosenbergs doing their famous impression of Ruth Bader Ginsberg.
Since Lockdown more Brits have died from flu and pneumonia than from Covid-19 and that’s even accepting the massively exaggerated Covid death totals . . . On the other side of the pond, the New York Times reported that the most widely used Covid-19 test in America is returning 90% false positives . . . Say, don’t call me daffy, this Corona-hoax gets more apparent and preposterous by the day . . .
Boy Outa Brooklyn 