Tupac’s simple words for racial harmony! #BeLikeTupac

Tupac's simple words for racial harmony

“My  niggas,  let’s  all  at  least  agree that  nothing  is  more  beautiful  than  a  white  man dumping  his  devil-semen in  an  exotic  black  women!”   -Tupac  Shakur  #BeLikeTupac!

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Neutrality and Triangulation: Foundations for discernment

 

comparing weighing trump and obama objectively

As  culture  collapses  and  rebirths,  it  has  come  to  be  that  forbearance,  and  even objectivity,  strikes  far  too  many  as  mainly  a  moral  matter–or  worse  just  an  aesthetic.  After  all:  Good  strategy  requires  it.  An  average  person  can  readily  develop  an  impressive  depth  of  knowledge  on  a  given  topic–extensive  familiarity  with  the  facts,  figures,  context,  etc.  Yet  in  matters  debatable,  an  effective  strategy  will subordinate   (or  at  the  very  least  join)  a  depth  of  knowledge  to  a  breadth  of  knowledge:  Familiarity  with  a  variety  of  perspectives  on  the  given  matter.

Again:  Forbearance,  and  even objectivity,  strikes  far  too  many  as  mainly  a  moral  matter–or  worse  just  an  aesthetic.  And  such  is  the  case,  far  from  never,  in  estimations  of  strategies  for  establishing  a  breadth  of  knowledge:  “That’s  nice  of  you  to  give  the  other  side  their  chance  to  speak;”  or,  “It  sure  is  impressive  that  you’ve  familiarized  yourself  with  so  many  points  of  view!”

Meanwhile,  everybody’s  looking  for  something:  Some  of  them  want  to  use  you;  some  of  them  want  to  be  used  by  you.  And  so  two  of  the  best  tactics  always  will  be:

  1. Neutrality;
  2. Triangulation  onto  truth,  or  something  most  alike  it,  by  finding  contenders’  common-ground  of  objective  facts,  thence  ferreting  the  foundations  for  their  respective  potential  biases,  in  order  to  follow  (a  few  phases  of)  the  money  (or  prestige,  etc)  which  would  animate  those  biases.

The soullessness of black folk

Crafty Jew helms yet another modern slave-ship filled with feckless chocolate frauds faking a righteous cause on behalf of chocolate fraudster Clive Higgins
Crafty Jew helms yet another modern slave-ship filled with feckless chocolate frauds faking a righteous cause on behalf of chocolate fraudster Clive Higgins.

Down in the memory-hole, pending incineration by but distance to the immediate, sit countless examples of black fraudsters, the majority of which eventually were caught–because blacks tend to strategize like whites tend to dance: Terribly.

One such terrible strategist is disgraced former Bridgeport (CT) police officer Clive Higgins, who wrote his very own “Niggaz be bad–sincerely, a wyt devil” letter (on camera, at work, on official police letterhead to which the general public had no access), in an attempt to get nigger-rich by suing for “Hostile Work Environment,” and becoming nigger-famous by being just another black wheel with no self-respect that squeaks enough to get a little grease.

However, in typical ebony style, Higgins not only concocted a fake cross to carry–he hung giant gold chains on it, put spinner-rims on it, gave it an extended clip.

Just another violent dindu

This was Higgins way of riding the fumes of his own ongoing race-based get-out-of-trouble-free ticket: Years prior to Higgins black (ie doomed) strategy (in cahoots with the racist clowns of “minority officer’s group” Bridgeport Guardians), Higgins was caught alongside two other cops beating on some nigger in Connecticut; Higgins was the only nigger officer. Higgins was the only officer acquitted of police brutality.

Meanwhile–and setting aside cowards and frauds like Higgins and the Bridgeport Guardians etc–the doctrine preached throughout the history of nearly all races and peoples has been that of manly self-respect: That such respect is worth more than lands and houses, and that a people who voluntarily surrender such respect, or cease striving for it, are not worth civilizing.

Too many flies, not enough ointment

Moreover, discriminating and broad-minded criticism is what the black communities need,—need for the sake of their own black sons and daughters, and for the insurance of robust, healthy mental and moral development.

Myths of black unity

Today the attitude of the black communities toward whites is not uniform, as so many assume, ie they don’t all agree that scapegoating whites for pitiful failure of blacks is respectable or even helpful. The ignorant black hates the whites, the black workingmen fear his competition, the black money-makers wish to use him as a scapegoat to mask their own corruption, some of the relatively educated see even the most mediocre white minds as a menacing threat, while other blacks—the ones denounced as ‘coon’ etc—wish to help whites to rise along with everyone else.

To praise this intricate whirl of thought and prejudice is nonsense; to inveigh indiscriminately against “black people” is unjust; but to use the same breath in praising Jesse Lee Peterson, exposing Senator Tim Scott, arguing with Mr. Ta-Nehisi Coates and Mr. Tariq Nasheed and Dr. Umar Johnson, and denouncing Barack Obama,  and Loretta Lynch, and  Maxine Waters–is not only sane, but the imperative duty of thinking people–black, white, or otherwise.

Black power vs black pity

The black men of America have a duty to perform, a duty stern and delicate,—a forward movement to oppose a part of the work of their many and varied leaders. So far as those leaders preach Thrift, Patience, Industrial Training, fairness, and good faith cooperation; all must hold up their hands and strive with them, rejoicing in their honor and glorying in their strength. But so far as any of those leaders remain addicted to justifying black corruption–pointing, like 5-year-olds, at what someone else did (hundreds of years before they were born) to contextualize their own corruption–we must unceasingly and firmly oppose them.

The limits of preening black pettiness

Black-Heroes-For-Hire-Scratching-The-Black-Panther-Itch

Ta-Nehisi Coates, while not James Baldwin, bests him in many ways, by benefit of better hindsight, even by  reflections  upon Baldwin  himself.  Moreover, and despite the popular misnomer that “hindsight is 20-20,” in reality,  hindsight  is,  far  from  seldom,  a  most  murky,  self-deceiving  sight.  Thence  Coates,  above  all,  bests  Baldwin  at  being  self-serving  and  petty,  to  be  sure,  but  above  all  simply  inaccurate:

 What Kanye West seeks is what Michael Jackson sought — liberation from the dictates of that “we.” . . . West calls his struggle the right to be a “free thinker,” and he is, indeed, championing a kind of freedom—a white freedom, freedom without consequence, freedom without criticism, freedom to be proud and ignorant; freedom to profit off a people in one moment and abandon them in the next; a Stand Your Ground freedom, freedom without responsibility, without hard memory; a Monticello without slavery, a Confederate freedom, the freedom of John C. Calhoun, not the freedom of Harriet Tubman, which calls you to risk your own; not the freedom of Nat Turner, which calls you to give even more, but a conqueror’s freedom, freedom of the strong built on antipathy or indifference to the weak, the freedom of rape buttons, pussy grabbers, and fuck you anyway, bitch; freedom of oil and invisible wars, the freedom of suburbs drawn with red lines, the white freedom of Calabasas.

Point-by-point

  1.  “Kanye  West  seeks  liberation  from  the  dictates  of  we.”  No.  Kanye  is  nothing  but  a  white-culture  mascot  for  black  mediocrity  and  narcissism–whose  black  (ie  feigned)  freedom  requires  insulation  from  criticism,  as  he  uses  the  fake  ‘real  talk’  vibe  to  talk  down  to  other  crabs  in  the  bucket.  (“BUT  HOW  DID  DA  BUCKET  GET  DERE!?  WE’Z  AINT  NEVER  GOTS  NO  BUCKET-TECHNOLOGY,  SO  WE’Z  MORALLY  SUPERIOR!!”…hold  up,  spaz.)  Moreover,  West  is,  like  all  white-culture  mascots,  a  laughable  hypocrite:  “My momma was raised in the era when clean water was only served to the fairer skin,”  West  whimpered  in  New  Slave,  even  as  he  knows  that  the  least  of  his  gluttonous  mother’s  problems  was  not  receiving  enough  allowance  by  white  overlords:  Donda  West,  alike  Rodney  King  and  so  many  mascots hitherto,  died  by  her  own  self-indulgence  and  shit  priorities–which  were  bankrolled  by  her  boring,  beady-brained  boy.  Regardless,  the  beat  goes  on,  and  the  facts  get  hidden,  or  else  laughably  rewritten,  to  let  every  King,  King,  or  King  be  a  hero–no  matter  what  a  worthless  degenerate  they  actually  were.
  2. Speaking  of  pitiful  kings:  “The  ‘king  of  pop’  Michael  Jackson  sought  liberation  from  the  dictates  of  ‘we’.”  No.  Jackson  was  just  a  self-hating,  disloyal  opportunist,  whose  downward  spiral  resulted  in  his  pitiful,  failed  plea  to  stay  relevant  via  edginess  in  1996  with  his  racist  rant  “They Don’t Care About Us,”  and  then  with  Jackson  suing  his  bosses,  alleging  that,  due  to  their  ‘racism’,  they  didn’t  market  him  enough–‘because  he  is  black’–when  his  fans,  having  moved  on  and  grown  up,  were  unmoved  by  ‘the  king  of  pop’  and  his  embarrassingly  titled  album:  Invincible.  Black  mascots  are  nothing  if  not  wholly  without  an  ability  to  accurately  self-assess:  So  a  few  years  later,  Jackson  died  as  he  lived:  Begging  white  people  for  drugs.  Of  course,  with  these  mascots,  it’s  always  someone  else’s  fault.  And  just  like  Donda  West’s  fake  hair,  her  son’s  fake  charisma,  or  MJ’s  fake  face:  Hiding  from  the  truth,  and  blaming  white  people  constantly–never  made  Michael  Jackson  any  less  beaten  by  his  dad  or  molested  by  one  or  more  of  his  brothers.
  3. Stand  Your  Ground  freedom.  Meanwhile,  Peruvian  George  Zimmerman  didn’t  owe  any  reparations  to  violent,  drug-addicted  criminal  Trayvon  Martin–certainly  not  in  the  form  of  not  fighting  back  against  the  feral  black.
  4. “Freedom without responsibility, without hard memory  [is  a  ‘white’  freedom].”  So  how  many  more  thousands  of  black  slave-owners  in  the  colonies  need  to  have  existed,  for  frauds  like  Ta-Nehisi Coates  to  pause  their  petty  pretenses?  And  how  much  more  integral  to  the  transatlantic  slave-trade  must  Africans  slavers  have  been–and  how  much  more  slavery  and  ridiculous  depravity  must  exist  in  modern  African  for  black  mascots  to  drop  the  charade  of  impenetrable  moral  superiority?
  5. “Freedom of suburbs drawn with red lines.”  Plot  twist:  What  if  Redlining  was  never  about  ‘racism’: What  if  the  suburbs  were  always  just  worried  about  blacks  who  hunt  and  dismember  albinos  to  brew  ‘magic  potions’;  blacks  who  rape  babies because  they  think  it  will  cure  their  AIDS;  etc?  Jokes  aside: Sometimes  poverty  and  isolation  causes  crime,  yet  crime  always  causes  poverty  and  isolation.  “BUH  DA  RACIS!!!”…no  one  cares.
  6. “Pussy grabbers.” It  surely  is  a  testament  to  the  death-grip  of  the  Expanded  Plantation  that  so  many  democrat  pets  are  rap-fans  so  willing  to  pretend  that  they  don’t  downright  worship  people  whose  literary  extent  is  to  boast  that  they  can,  to  say  the  least,  grab  pussies.

Chocolate  chicken-littles

The  is  just  an  outline  to  a  larger,  ongoing  story:  Countless  throngs  of  black  frauds,  trapped  as  mascots  for  white-supremacists,  begging  whites  for  relevance,  even  transcendence–by  claiming,  in  various  ways,  that  the  only  reason  they  are  not  already  relevant  or  transcendent  is  because  of  whites  who  are  not  playing  their  cards  rights.  This,  even  as  all  but  every.single.example.ever.given–never  amounts  to  more  than  Sharpton-level  charlatanism.

Twilight  of  the  mentally  and  morally  idle

Regardless  the  eventual  length  of  his  limp  life,  Ta-Nehisi Coates  will  almost  certainly  die  as  he  lived:  A  cowardly,  complicit,  mediocre  mascot–perpetually  failing  to  disprove  Thomas  Jefferson’s  prescient  lamentation:  “Never yet could I find that a black had uttered a thought above the level of plain narration.”

And  so  comes  and  goes  just  another  book-smart  black  buster:  Ta-Nehisi Coates,  whose  magnum  opus  of  cloud-chasing  mentions  that,  before  hearing  Kanye’s  (garbage) music,  he  “would have said ‘Incarcerated Scarfaces’ was the peak of civilization.”  Incarcerated  Scarefaces:  Coates  ‘peak  of  civilization’,  a  boring  1995  brag-anthem  by  Raekwon  of  Wu-tang  Clan–which  contains  the  following  ‘peak  of  civilization’  nonsense:

Knock niggas out the box all the time Bitches know my mothafuckin’ repertoire, big one (Yeah, mothafucka, straight up, I’ll fuck your whole team up) Take care of B.I., Chef.  Fly G.I. niggas

Fake be fronting, hourglass heads niggas be wanting Shutting down your slot, time for pumping Poisonous sting, which thumps up and act chumps Rae’s a heavy generator, but yo, guess who’s the black Trump? Dough be flowing by the hour’s, Wu, we got the collars Scholars, Word Life, peace to Power and my whole unit.

How  about  that?  Coates’  hero  Raekown  was  kind  enough  to  break  from  rhyming  “nigger”  with  “nigger”–and  talking  about  how  he’ll  kill  niggers–so  that  he  could  brag  about  how  he’s  like  Donald  Trump;  which  has,  for  decades,  been  a  popular  thing  among  rappers–until  all  the  leftists  whites,  mulattoes,  and  homosexuals  convinced  all  these  mentally  retarded  black  followers  that  Trump  is  the  greatest  threat  to  peace–in  da  hood  and  in  da  world.  (Word-nerd  Coates  even  took  the  time  to  decry  “Trump’s  ‘muslim’  travel -ban”  (and  decried  Kanye  for  ‘not  knowing  about  it’)–the  travel-ban  that  was  formulated  by  Coates’  half-black  hero  Obama).

From  the  swamps  of  black  self-destruction

And  so  there  springs  up;  among  the  masses  of  black  fraudsters,  addicts,  and  charity-cases;  an  occasional  James  Baldwin,  Martin  Luther  King,  Tariq  Nasheed,  Umar  Johnson,  Michael  Eric  Dyson,  Tupac, Marc  Lamont  Hill,  Barack  Obama,  Ta-Nehisi Coates,  etc–Average  height:  5’7″;  average  IQ: 57.

These  are  the  mediocre  mascots  who  pretend  especially  hard,  and  whose  value  to  the  Expanded  Plantation  is  exactly  that  pretense:  Convincing  countless  desperate  blacks  to  pretend  likewise–pretend  that  if  blacks  fake  hard  enough,  then  somehow,  some  way,  someday  everyone  will  eventually  agree  to  shower  them  with  pity  and  praise–all  the  way  to  blacktopia!

…as  they  frantically  fight,  fool,  and  fuck  each  other  to  death.

The legacy of Mohammed Khan

“Ghengis Khan, by his conquests, is the direct ancestor of as much as 1% of the entire world’s population” -The mongolian-controlled media

As western death-cults spiraled ever deeper into implosion, only the most conniving creatures survived.

One such survivor was Mohammed Finkelstein, born in Palestine to Sarah Finkelstein, an Israeli expatriate who, hoping to usher an era of mongrelized utopia,  had  impregnated herself with handfuls of semen she dug from the torn and gaping vagina of the village toddler whom, out of reverence for the example set by their child-raping prophet, the Muslim men all used as a cumdumpster.

Early on, Sarah suffered several miscarriages from being forced into Pallywood scenes while pregnant, where she would be kicked in the stomach by a pro-choice arab wearing a bootleg Israeli Army uniform who hoped to gain sympathy for insane Palestinians from half-attentive, anti-israel zombies–by pretending that others were as cutthroat and crazy as them.

Months later, and after many gallons of semen stolen in vain from the ravaged loins of the make-shift Aisha: Sarah finally birthed her very own rape-prone Mohammed.

During the child’s first sleep, Allah sent visions of paradise into the child’s mind: A perfected world, where every Muslim man owned all the toddlers he could ever rape; where every Muslim woman had perfected the art of being a cowardly, complicit liar who pretended it was empowerment to obey the decrees of weak, malevolent Muslim warlords; and where Allah sent down daily acid-rain onto all Jews worldwide–except those pious enough to match Muslims’ morality by Metzitzah B’peh: The mutilating and sucking of a baby’s penis.

Years later, the trip from Palestine to the USA was an easy one: Naive, hyper-educated, under-lived, self-hating jews–and colorless people generally–infested all the structures of power, especially in government and academia; and so when the beady-eyed brainiacs of Yalvard University learned that a dangerous, skill-less brown person needed an alibi to invade the West–they dropped their fetus-smoothies faster than you could say, “Hey, this is all somewhat exaggerated!”

At Yalvard, yet another ceremony began. Such ceremonies occurred daily, to honor and welcome the newest cavalcade of delightfully dingy, nobly nihilistic, serenely self-interested, majestically muddy invaders. The progressive halls oozed with chants for, and celebrations of, social justice. As heroically brown Mohammed Finkelstein entered the fray–cheering erupted:

“I bet he doesn’t speak a bit of English!,” happily shouted a pale English Ph.d., who looked forward to the following week, where he would finally purge his personal guilt for the 1% of white and black colonists who owned slaves hundreds of years before he was born–by proudly training his heavily accented, immensely racist Hindu replacement as dean of Yalvard’s English department, which was then to be renamed “The anti-English social justice department for the establishment of Sharia and La Raza.”

“He’s so of-color!,” wailed a weary,  colorless mom, tearfully cradling her scowling mongrel spawn in her cutter-marked arms,  as  its  beautifully  shit-colored  father donned a snaggle-toothed smile–his yellow, glazed-over eyes gazing  freely  at all da fine ass crakkka hoes, who looked back at him approvingly–knowing that his nobly listless lechery was just him getting his life back together.

And if there was anything more progressively utopian than a black criminal replicating: It  was  yet  another violence-worshiping Muslim being inflicted upon an increasingly feminized slave-state. And so a hush came over the academic elites, as Mohammed stunk his way up to the of-color-only megaphone.

Mohammed cleared his throat and, via translation by another child-rape enthusiast who was bilingual in inciteful Arabic and 5th-grade English, he delivered a speech in honor and tone of his hero, Barack Hussein Obama–the most beloved mongrel ever to oversee a decade of expanded surveillance and torture, and the murder of hundreds of sand-nigger children as collateral damage from countless indiscriminate drone-strikes in the Middle East and North Africa: “Every person without color in the USA is racist, especially Barack Obama’s colorless grandmother, who raised him after a noble nigger impregnated, beat, and abandoned her daughter. Nevertheless, in this moment, by enabling someone as heroically brown as me: Change has come to America!”

Mohammed’s colorless admirers had been pensively waiting for this moment throughout the whole event–the one circumstance where colorless people were socially allowed to show unbridled emotion: Displaying worshipful awe at the eerie mediocrity of an of-color mascot; so as Mohammed concluded his regally self-centered remarks, cheers erupted from nearly everyone–except the noble nigger mascots throughout the room, who were too busy scowling at assless beckys’ cameras, and thinking of new ways to rhyme “nigger” with “nigger,” in hopes of becoming famous.

Coming up: Mohammed makes his muddy mark on feminized culture, in feminist admirers.

Jewy Justice: One good goy’s heroic act to repent for Hitler

Jewy Justice
Half-goy Chelsea Handler performs penance for the mythology created  about  Hitler subsequent  to  USA’s  War  Crimes  against  Germany  and  Japan  during  World War 2;  Handler,  setting  a  good  goy  example, thereby pledged her faith to Jewish moral-superiority.

It  is  a  well  established  political  and  media  mandate  that  Hitler  loved  hate,  hated  love,  and  murdered  6  billion  Jewish  infants  with  his  bare  hands,  in  addition  to  using  the  “nigger  word”  on  over  6  billion  occasions.

That  Jews  are  as  powerless  as  they  are  loveable  is  also  well  known–except  to  antisemitic  lunatics  like  Marlon  Brando,  who  tearfully  apologized  to  the  powerless  Jewish  mobsters  whose  stranglehold  on  much  of  USA’s  culture  does  not  exist.

Less  known,  though,  is  the  worst  side  of  Hitler–a  side  so  dark  and  evil  that  some  Jews  mutilate  and  suck  baby  dicks,  in  a  ritual  called  Metzitzah  B’peh.  Few  records  remain  of  Hitler’s  evil,  not  because  there  is  exactly  zero  evidence  for  virtually  all  of  the  fraud  surrounding  World  War  2–but  rather  because  the  evil  crazy  nazis  carefully  destroyed  all  the  evidence  of  their  crazy  evil,  since  they  knew  they’d  be  tortured  at  the  kangaroo-court  of  Nuremberg.

The  most  carefully  hidden  truth  about  Hitler:  He  outlawed  the  practice  of  timid  cowardly  Jewish  hypocrites  pissing  on  the  faces  of  goy  women.

The  moral  of  the  story:  Every  goy  woman  owes  Jews  for  the  holocaust–and  must  let  a  Jew  piss  on  her  face.  Chelsea  Handler,  though  only  half-goy  on  her  mother’s  evil  German  side,  set  a  good  example  of  the  necessary  restitution,  by  laughing  with  her  mouth  wide  open–while  a  timid,  cowardly,  powerless,  lovable  Jewish  hypocrite  pissed  on  her  face.