Amazing Americans

Do you know what amazes me? What amazes me is people expecting the American government to do anything straight up. All those people in front of the Supreme Court this morning expecting the judges to stand up for American ideals, God, mom and apple pie. After they struck down everything that people traditionally believed in here come the news casters citing polls that most Americans agreed with the concepts put forth. Know what? That ruling didn’t change a thing. Sure, all the gay people can flock down and get married and get a tax credit now. Matter of fact it’s actually funny. They can file married now and give the government LESS money than they did last year.
Let me ask you a simple question. When Rosa Parks got the right to ride on the front of the bus, did she stop being black? You Christians are wringing your hands out there about gay marriage and Obama just sold out to China. Ya’ll didn’t notice that did you? Them Chinese fellers taking your land away from you is going to upset your day a hell of a lot more than a couple of guys exchanging vows down at a JP’s office. When you can’t buy a gun because you saw a doctor ten years ago when your mother died you’ll forget all ABOUT those two guys on a park bench feeding the pigeons. When they come and take your paid for house because you didn’t pay tribute two girls kissing won’t mean much. And what was the main topic of discussion this week, while the congress raped and pillaged? A flag that General Lee surrendered one hundred and fifty years ago!
Something was pointed out to me yesterday by Chip Darby. Remember the Lincoln conspiracy? Well, those guys had a plan. What would have happened if they’d gotten Lincoln, Johnson, and the speaker of the house? The CONGRESS would have to run the country. The same congress Lincoln had been dancing around for four years! Think Obama’s bad? Lincoln wouldn’t have known the constitution if it ran up and peed on his leg! The great emancipator. Give me a break! Yeah, he freed the slaves, and planned to send them all to South America! He didn’t need no stinking slaves, he just stole the whole south!
If your God doesn’t approve of gay marriage he STILL won’t approve tomorrow morning. And you gays, just as stupid as the rest. You’re dancing in the street because you just got the right to PAY the government to get married! Marriage license? With every other license I ever got I had to at least take a test. All I had to do to get a marriage license was pay twenty five dollars and find some girl stupid enough to say, “I do.” If it were a real license it would have had to be renewed. Boy! Could have used THAT a time or two in my life. Think this can of worms is empty? Ever hear the word, “Polygamy?” Heck, how about “Polygamous Gay Marriage.”
Americans amaze me. Some kid shoots up a black church and they’re debating all week about if he was racist or not. Then they turn on some flag the Dukes of Hazzard had, and tried to blame that, then they all crowd down at the courthouse cheering because two dudes can now hook up. Meanwhile the Chinese take their land, the IRS takes their money, Obama takes their guns, but they get to fornicate. Gee, wasn’t that pretty much what the masters did in the old south. Who’s the slave now? You Americans lost your country a long time ago. That’s what we Texans have been trying to tell you, but you’re too busy making fun of our accents to listen. You go over to the Middle East, stir up the Arabs, LEAVE, and then stand back in snake amazement when something like ISIS comes slithering out from under a rock. But you believe we have to go there because they have oil. WE have oil right here. The MEXICANS have oil, they just don’t work at selling it because they make too much money selling you dope!
There’s nothing new under the sun. There was this emperor in Rome. He was not a bad one, not a good one, just kind of a Jimmy Carter kind of emperor. They were just about to assassinate him (that’s how emperors retired back in them days) and he came up with a plan. He told them he was gonna build the gosh darnest football stadium they’d ever seen and everybody was gonna get to party their butts off for a hundred days. Now, even by Hollywood standards that’s quite a shindig. To top it all off he was gonna throw pizza into the stands and more wine than they could imagine, and the Romans could imagine a lot! Died in his own bed. Think things are different? Do you think the human condition has evolved? Do you really believe mankind has risen that far above Cheeta? How’s that Obama Phone working out for you?

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin


Stand By For News!

I spent an entire day yesterday watching the furor over the Confederate flag. I could have put my time to better use, I can assure you, but every story, every note, every status on Facebook had a flag on it. The GAYS even have a flag! I didn’t know that. I personally think it should be pink, but what do I know, right?

Then came a story that ISIS has invented a new way to kill people, three new ways, actually, and if you know me, I made a tuna sandwich, a pitcher or martinis, and went looking for that! Then, of course the story about Obama selling Kansas to the Chinese, Hilliary has dated Yoko Ono, and Bruce Gender had her first period! Then, a great light appeared unto me. It was exceedingly bright, and I was sore afraid. And a voice came from the light, like a thousand trumpets, and the voice said, “Come here!” So I put down my martini, and went unto the voice, and the voice got holy, and powerful, and resounded-duh . . . And the voice said, “Gimme some of dat samitch!”

So I gave the voice the sandwich, and I was filled with wisdom at that point. And the wisdom was this: The Mainstream Media long ago lost ALL credibility. Gone are the days when Patton strode onto the beach, or Kennedy stared down the Russians, or Dr. King walked fearlessly down the streets of Selma. Now some guy says he’s a woman, cuts his Johnson off, and the world stops turning. The big bucks news will pump any story, no matter how stupid until you’d think that was the only thing happening in the entire world at that given moment of time. LEAD story,too! JESUS CHRIST could return, and He’d be upstaged by some transvestite tripping, and spilling a Coke on a parking lot! Oh yeah, did ya’ll know the Pope is a communist? There was even a story about Miley Cyrus poking fun at the Bible. Like that’s a surprise? Have you checked out her little dance step. I liked when she was Hanna Montana, but what do you do when you grow up, and lose your contract because you’re basically ugly, and a slut? That’s an old word my younger readers need to get used to. Slut: Prostitute who’s too stupid to charge for it.

And, of course, everybody’s looking forward to the race war that’s coming. A few kids with their pants sagging sit down in the street and “IT’S A RACE WAR, IT’S A RACE WAR!” We already HAD a race war back in the 1860’s. Oh God, here come the flags again! I found ONE story worth reading, and that was the one about the one-legged vet who had to put his dog down. The dog was trained to sniff out seventy different bombs, and had saved many lives. The whole town turned out to accompany him to the doctor, and go to rest. Uh, didn’t see any Confederate flags in the crowd.

Then I caught Chris Green, Alternative TV, and of course he was ranting and raving about that flag flap. Then he turned on Col. Allen West. He showed a clip of some black, bearded fanatic, and kept calling him Col. West. I was reminded of an old George Carlin line; Seems fairly intelligent . . . Ah! He’s full of s . . . .!” You have to watch conspiracy theorists just about as close as you watch Main Stream Media. Right before Green regurgitated his dialog he did a commercial trying to sell body armor to all the nice folks out there waiting for Jade Helm to kick in, oh don’t get me started! We are going through that flap down here in Texas right now. I’m sure there is SOMETHING there, because even Governor Abbott is putting armor plating on his wheel chair. (You’d think that after getting the Governor’s office he’d have picked up a Hoveround somewhere along the way, wouldn’t you?) it’s a nice fantasy, I guess. I have a fantasy. Me, locked away in a bomb shelter, hiding from Jade Helm, with five Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders and a case of Jim Beam. Do THAT math!

So, I found myself having coffee this morning, waiting to see what’s next. Will ISIS invade New York? Will the Jews take over the world? Will Bruce Gender become pregnant? Will global warming make California a bigger desert than it’s always been? Will we have to read yet another story from Roof’s stepmother (another slut) telling us what a “nice boy” he really was? Will Alex Jones sell yet another water purification system? Stand by for NEWS!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin


You know, sometimes there is a story I don’t want to touch. I’ll draw a line in the sand and make the decision not to write about it, but the next day I’ll realize that I must. So it is with the recent shootings in South Carolina. First, let’s examine the twisted mind of the shooter. DON’T! He’s crazy. He needs to be shot! Any man who can sit through a Bible study for an hour and then kills nine people does not need understanding. If you understand him YOU need to be shot!

This story has so many elements it is unfathomable. Black, white, liberal, conservative, religious, irreligious, it’s almost as if it were designed. This man exhibited hatred I never saw while growing up in 1950’s Louisiana. Even my father and grandfather didn’t think like that. Let’s peel that onion.

Obama took to the airways and almost before he took his third breath he was touting gun control. Like the song says, “When will they ever learn?” The lesson in simple, but no doubt it will be lost on liberal gun control advocates. There is no “gun control!” I’m going to explain the 2nd in very clear and simple terms. People have the right of self defense should they so choose. If that amendment were adhered to in its purity that deranged killer would not have been so confident when he entered that church. He KNEW he was the only person with a gun, and he could take his sweet time strolling around the church shooting at will, indeed, reloading FIVE times because he KNEW the sheep had nowhere to turn.

When you remove an absolute you infuse doubt. What is an absolute? A gun free zone! People tend to equate a gun free zone with a smoke free zone. Not so. A gun free zone is an insurance policy for a killer. If even the possibility of one gun in the crowd exists that removes confidence needed to go about killing everything that moves. Oh, I can hear the liberal response now. If anyone had a gun it might have been worse. A miss aimed bullet might have hit an innocent person. Now, I know liberals don’t have a frontal lobe, but I always assumed they still had a brain stem, that part that makes their heart and lungs work. There weren’t any missed shots, the shooter was spot on because he had all the time in the world to aim!

You cannot deny this. Liberals have become task masters at denying the obvious, men are women, white is the new black, reality is whatever you imagine it to be, but life does not work like that! When you’re hiding behind a pew as a nut methodically works his way through the congregation you’ll forget about all that stuff, and really understand what that amendment means! People have a right to protect their life! Even the remote possibility that one person had a gun would have altered the outcome that day. That is an irrefutable fact!

Let me hammer that nail a little more. If it were possible that anyone might have a gun in all situations it would make crazy people consider the cost of their actions. In that theater in Colorado, the church in South Carolina, on many campuses all across the country, if a killer knows that he may only fire one shot he would weigh the cost, and if he proceeded he would pay the price! In short order the misaligned of society would come to realize this doesn’t work, and the body count would drop!

Liberals, you will never get rid of all the guns. Guaranteed there will always be one left, and you don’t want to know who’s going to have it. Jesus said to sell your coat and buy a sword. Peter cut a man’s ear off. There will violent men who know no bounds, and will prey upon to innocent. There will always be the meek who will run from a fight if given any chance at all, but as I’ve said time and time again, even a good dog has the right to bite. Does the event in South Carolina upset me? You bet it does, because I’ve always felt safe in church. Also I know Obama is an idiot, and he will use this to forward his bizarre vision of the world that he’s been pushing for the last six years. You want to see where this leads? I give you . . Obamanation!

People and Dogs

Well, let’s talk about Confederate flags, racism and dogs today. Why should you people have a calm day? When I was growing up in Louisiana, anger over the loss of the Civil War was still very much alive. The adults didn’t much mix with black folk, but they HATED Yankees. I never even saw a Yankee until I moved to Texas, and she was married to a soldier. I remember being fascinated that she looked pretty much like us, all but that hair. She had this short haircut. My mother told me that was because she was a prostitute, and Yankee marriage didn’t mean much because they didn’t know who their fathers were anyway. She also smoked cigarettes in public. Southern girls didn’t smoke in public, they dipped Garett snuff in private. Kiss that!

The bitterness over the loss of the war was drilled into us at a young age. Even our teachers schooled us about it. Them bastard Yankees came down and beat up on all the southern gentlemen, raped all the white women, and outlawed whiskey, all in the same breath. In my young mind the north was this huge boiling pot of people who talked funny, and the south was about the size of Louisiana. I didn’t really know much about black people, they cooked meals at school, but I KNEW a Yankee was just about as low as you could get on the food chain if you discounted monkeys. Then, there was this flag!

Now, the state flag of Louisiana had a bird on it, and the Confederate flag was not waved around much. The last time it got waved around all them Yankees showed up. The Confederate flag symbolized defeat! People in Louisiana had a hard enough time swallowing a whipping without having something waving above the statehouse reminding them of it on a daily basis, hence the bird! As I grew older I was set back by other states having that thing on display. Didn’t anybody tell them we lost? The Confederate flag wasn’t a source of pride for us it was an embarrassment, as useless as Confederate money.

Over the years that flag came to mean hill billy, countrified, inbred, stupid, and beat. The Dukes of Hazzard! Texans clung to the Lone Star, much as they do today. They viewed the Confederate flag with about as much disdain as they did the stars and stripes. The Yankees rolled over Louisiana as if it were a freeway, they asked permission to enter Texas AFTER the war! The Confederate flag meant nothing to Texans. At any given moment Texas was ready to take its star back and let the Nortés keep the change.

For people to use the Confederate flag as a rallying point for racism is alien to me. The Yankees whipped us. The Confederacy lost, Texas did not. Don’t wave something in my face reminding me of a butt stomping. That’s like keeping you ex-wife’s panties in a drawer hoping she’ll come back some day and put them on. I hear all the time, “I never owned any slaves, why do you keep reminding me of it?” Well, I didn’t fight in the Civil War, let it go!

There are two species on this planet that hang together but have little in common. People and dogs. Think about it. Most other animals look pretty much alike. A Zebra is a Zebra is a Zebra, but a DOG? I submit for your approval a Chihuahua and a Saint Bernard. Connect THEM dots! Now, people are mostly the same size and shape, but unlike dogs, color messes us up. Dogs, well they just sniff butts and take it from there. Dogs have it all figured out, and I will remind you that dogs usually won’t fight until after the obligatory butt sniff. People are the only species that has its mind pretty much made up beforehand.

I watched a lot of video yesterday about white supremacy. David Duke is a bit of a segregationist, but he HATES Jews! Now David is as crazy as an outhouse rat. He’s from Louisiana, by the way, and I suppose that means something, but the one that really tripped me out was this professor giving a lecture on the dominance of Caucasians over practically every other race on the planet. And he made his case, too. At the end of that lecture I was ready to sew up a sheet, and burn me a cross, but I ran out of beer, and his logic fell apart.

All men are created equal, but then their mamas bring them home from the hospital, and therein lies the problem. You have to be a THINKING human being. Did you read all that stuff at the beginning of this article? In my first ten years on this planet, adults were really pounding that lunacy into my still forming mind. As I grew older, and more data was brought in, I began to see things as they truly were. THAT’S why I have no sympathy whatsoever for people who grow up in the projects and think THAT is the way the world is! If you crack open any human head chances are you’ll find a brain. A child will listen, and accept what it’s told by adults right up until this thing we call puberty kicks in, and then that brain starts formulating it’s OWN ideas. By the age of sixteen I had rejected practically everything my father ever told me.

This kid in South Carolina was a sick little bastard, still fighting the Civil War, probably could not find a woman, and was living a mindset I left back in Louisiana in 1962. You take a Norté like that, give him a gun, pump him up with Prozac and CNN has a field day. If David Duke has a son I’ll bet he looks like him! What amazes me is intelligent people trying to UNDERSTAND him. Pat Garrett did NOT try to understand Billy the Kid, he shot him in the back of the head. Wyatt Earp did NOT discuss the second amendment with the Clantons. You cannot micro-analyze a fool! And the cops are STILL studying this idiot. “Uh, why’d you go and shoot all them folks?” “I was trying to restart the Civil War!” He was looking at all them Confederate flags a flying and just couldn’t figure out what that really meant. I figured that crap out when I was ten years old.

Follow the money, folks. As long as the flag waves the main stream media will make sure the winds never die. They will find SOME deranged red neck who’s willing to say “nigger” on national TV. Al Sharpton most likely opened a whole new bank account just to hold all the money he plans to make from this. Kids will stream out of the projects and burn every Mercedes they can find, and Obama will get his trade agreement passed while we’re all staring at a Confederate flag. Wouldn’t it be much easier if we all just sniffed each other’s butts?

Don’t Mess With Texas

Had a most interesting dialog this weekend with some people. I had fallen into a group on Facebook that presented themselves as “global citizens.” Being a Texan, and not so worldly, I fell into the trap of accepting their wisdom via the fact that they were from such exotic places such as India, England and any place other than Texas. Hey, I’m human, and I drink too much at times.

So, let’s examine the credibility of such personages as opposed to a simple old boy from Austin, shall we? First, and foremost, in order to discredit a fool, such as myself, the charge of racist must be employed. Get your notes out there will be a quiz later. Charges of racisms are the replacement of logic, and sound argument with mental masturbation. Write that down. When someone, such as myself constructs a logic that is supported by evidence that cannot be refuted, the more “worldly” adversary retreats to the charge of racism, and their followers and associates begin to flog themselves feverishly in total acceptance of this “universal” truth.

After I left the group the site still remained on my iPad. During the following evening I looked at the membership, something I hadn’t done previous to this. I think there were about three or four white boys in the crowd, myself being one, and all the other names were, well, shall we say, not Irish. Racist enough for you? And the charge of racism is not the only brick in the wall. I seriously doubt that any of these over five hundred esteemed scholars had ever been to Texas, but they knew all about it! Texans are a bunch of redneck cowboys, riding horses and shooting their way out of bars, dragging every black person they can behind a pickup truck as the ghost of Judge Roy Bean laughs with fiendish glee from the infernal regions. Yeah, that sounds about right. Seems they completely overlooked the University of Texas, the Baylor Medical Center and the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders.

Now, I wish to admit that I made a few statements which proceeded from a wine glass more than my intellect, and I will confess that these statements were inflammatory. Reference Miss Pamela Geller. Yeah, I’m gonna go there. For those of you who have been living under a big yellow rock, Miss Geller set up an art contest to draw, you guessed it, MOHAMMED! Now this drew the ire of certain, shall we say, “Adherents” to the faith, whereupon two of these noble men took it upon themselves to drive all the way to Texas with machine guns, where Miss Geller had apparently arranged a welcoming party who promptly blew their brains out. Right after that a couple of Mosques got incinerated in Houston, and I made the mistake of admitting openly that there is at least a possibility that we Texans approved of these actions. Well, get your prayer rugs out because we DO! I stand by my statement.

The debate began when a friend, Peter Ehlers, put up an article about some “cleric” over in Stupidstan who wanted the police to enforce some Islamic law forcing women to wear this silly bag over their heads. Now we have a cultural thing here. To a Muslim putting a bag over a woman’s head may be a holy thing, and I’m not saying it doesn’t have its place, but when a Texan puts a bag over a woman’s head it has a whole different connotation. As a matter of fact I’ve known some “two baggers” in my time, but the placement of such things has little to do with religion. You don’t bag up a pretty girl, my neck isn’t that red!

The entire debate centered on my statement, completely ignoring the original premise, opting instead upon discussing the fact that I wasn’t in sack cloth, pouring ashes over my head, grieving for those poor dead homies up in Garland! You’d have thought someone had thrown a Big Mac into a pool filled with piranhas! And there’s no reasoning with these people. Here we have a couple of women who most likely have never been farther than the local fish market railing against me, and after listening to this nonsense I began to understand why Muslims wish to put bags over their heads. A little Duct tape might be appropriate, too. Anyway, I left the group as the occupants massaged themselves having rid their area of yet one more “Infidel.”

Ok, these people are a flock of fools! They base their entire world view on a man who claimed he rode a winged horse to heaven. You can’t make this stuff up. You have women being degraded in such a manner that would get you SHOT in Texas, and their women LIKE it! If I ever tried to put a bag over Frenchi’s head she would shoot me mercifully behind my left ear.

In conclusion I’d like to admit that I was wrong. I mistook these people as having a frontal lobe. Hey, it happens. I should have fallen back on time honored terminology from men much wiser than myself. Something so profound that it cannot be discounted. Words inscribed upon signs, walls and the hearts of my people far and wide. Something where the language is so direct that even goats can comprehend it. Something those two guys in Garland fully understood right before getting their seventy-two virgins. DON’T MESS WITH TEXAS!
Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

See The Dog Run

“When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school, it’s a wonder I can think at all!” So wrote Paul Simon back in the day, and things haven’t gotten much better. Public education is a little like having milk in a grocery store. You GOTTA have it, but you make money off of beer. I, myself, am a graduate of Killeen High School, conveniently located in Killeen, Texas, and that’s about as illiterate as it comes where they’ll still let you drive a car. The curriculum was quite focused, actually. They taught most of us to read, and naturally writing followed. Since we were all pretty much Texas white trash we already knew how to count. See, that comes from not having a whole lot of money so you don’t have to count very high. You HAD to take Texas history. Then there was health, which told us primarily how to avoid the clap, so I guess you could count that as sex education, too. Sex education, don’t get me started. You sit there for three hours teaching teens about sex WITH PICTURES, and then stand back in snake amazement when Suzy Sweetcheeks winds up pregnant.

If you persevered, and bought a gown you got to graduate. Now you didn’t KNOW anything. McDonalds was somewhere out in California so you had two choices; join the army, or try to find a job. The one percenters went to college, which only put off the inevitable because they didn’t learn anything there either. I studied geography in high school, but I knew the world was flat, because when people left Killeen they never came back. The ONLY thing I learned of any value was typing, and if you will notice I’m doing that NOW!

Schools have been graduating fools for years, myself being a perfect example thereof, but somewhere down the pike the school ma’arms figured out the route to adequate public funding was teaching students to pass tests. That and develop courses that have absolute nothing to do with life. In that respect maybe sex education has a place in that you can go out and at least SELL that! Now all this sounds pretty primitive, but let me clue you in, the kids are still learning nothing in school, only faster because now they have computers!

So how do we fix this? Well, first we need to look at what education is for. Education is supposed to prepare you to go out and make a living. That’s it! Come off that stage, take off that gown, go over to Stan’s garage, and start fixing cars. If you fix enough cars, and do it well, you progress from eating hot dogs to eating steak. Back in my day the kid who dropped out and helped his dad lay roofing was far better off than I was with my diploma. Matter of fact Willie, a friend of mine, learned how to plumb, and had just enough schooling to read the state plumbing exam and become a master plumber.

The aspiration of a college degree is all very fine, and I suppose there’s a place for that, but that kid with a degree is basically no better off than I was, and far below Willie with his little Roto Rooter when it came to acquiring that steak. Willie got the prettiest girl, too! Where did I get this revolutionary idea? Mr Cole, my civics teacher who told my class that very few of us would ever darken the door of a college, and those that did would most likely never graduate.

Once you teach a kid to read, and understand what is being read your job is ninety percent done. Over the years vocational training has been stigmatized as teachers point students to stars they will never reach. Shop class, automotive class, and dare I say it, homemaking, should be staples, not second choices. And this Common Core crap is just that . . . CRAP! Take THAT to an IRS audit and see how things work out for you. I did NOT learn how to write in school. I learned to write by reading what others wrote years later. I really didn’t need sex education either, but I did like the pictures.

With the Internet, and faster and faster communication the old idea of schooling is becoming a dinosaur. My eight year old granddaughter, Puck, is more literate than I was when Dr. Ellison handed me that diploma back in 1969. She HAD to learn to read in order to text! She had to learn her numbers because she is diabetic and ingredients and amounts are critical to her survival. She taught HERSELF! While her teachers were teaching her to “see the dog run” Puck was reaching for understanding what Trans Fats were and how many different ways “sugar” could slip into what she was about to eat. My other granddaughter, Kylie, donated time in a doctor’s office. She had to get her high school diploma because they wouldn’t let her into Arizona State University without it, but she KNOWS what she will do with her life, and will play their silly game until she buys that steak.

Kids aren’t dumb, but they can be “dumbed down” by a system designed to train them to fake their way through a test without ever understanding what the words really meant. The system makes it easy to grade tests. What about, instead of a multiple choice question about what IS Obamacare, how about explain Obamacare in your own words and the teacher has to read and UNDERSTAND what the student wrote! Learning can be a two way street, but until then, “See the dog run!”

The Shell Game

Ok, students, school’s in. I’m going to delve into economics, politics, and geography today, and I’ll try not to use too many four syllable words. Ask yourself, what made the idea of “America” work? Let’s go back to square one, shall we? Way back in 1781 we’d run off the British, we’re hammering out some sort of government, and basically life was good. The average citizen could hang around New York, and make shoes or take off into the “wilderness” and trap beaver, whatever they wished. The government was in charge of making coins so we could go to the store without bringing along two or three chickens to trade, though some people still did that. The Bill of Rights came into existence a bit later, and they meant pretty much what they said. You could come and go, buy and sell, be drunk or sober, ever how you chose. Rich folks built businesses and common folks would work those businesses hoping to someday become rich folks. There was a president and congress, but they didn’t generally bother most people because they were limited. New York Harbor was choked with people who wanted to work this new system, and were sick and tired of the old ways that put them in the grave about twenty paces from where they were born. God, it was great!

The colonies were designated states. Now, let’s look at the concept of “state.” The colonies were formed by enterprising folks who convinced the crown that they could organize a geographic area such as to exploit the resources of said area and send gold, beavers and cigars BACK to the old country. It’s as simple as that! The crown didn’t give two flips about the environment, the natives, or the relocated colonists so long as the ships kept running and the coffee never ran out! The colonists could care less about the crown so long as their throne remained “over there” and they were allowed to expand, and exploit to their heart’s content. Cotton practically grew wild in the south. Mix in a few slaves and voila! Burlington Coat Factory! Everything turned to gold in America!

Now England didn’t LIKE the breaking away of her prize possessions, but she DIDN’T stop buying T-Shirts. The cotton grew in the STATE of Georgia, and was sold in the STATE of New York. The residents in the respective locales were bound only by common language, and if you’ve ever been raised in Texas, been to dinner on Long Island you quickly realize we don’t REALLY speak the same language, we speak AT it. So westward expansion began. People would filter west, plant a little corn and BAM! Ohio! The president would throw a little chump change on the table and you get LOUISIANA! Theyd survey the land and draw up “states” which were NOT colonies, where the inhabitants thereof generally were of the same breed, with a common interest. William Penn was as dead as fried chicken, these were STATES by golly! The goal was to get hooked up to something called the UNITED States. A collection of geographically different entities tied together by a common cause, i.e. the “idea” of America.

A plantation owner would grow cotton and ship it to New York. He’d get some gold coins for his cotton, whereupon he’d run down and buy more seed and grow more cotton. The cotton would sail for London and those people we didn’t like before would give us some of THEIR gold, that would come right back to the Jewish bankers in New York, who’d be looking forward to the next cotton crop coming up from the south, and the whole process would begin all over again. That WORKED! Know what happens when something works? Well everybody wants a T-Shirt, that’s what. Especially the government that doesn’t manufacture anything. What started out as ten little rules on how to go about your day without stepping on too many toes began to expand. Now there are many reasons for this.

First off you got all these folks up in Washington, all dressed up with nowhere to go. They’ve already GOT the Bill of Rights, already GOT the constitution, but you can’t make any money off that! The constitution was a hit. What happens when you get a hit? Well, eventually you have to do what we call a “sequel!” And them fellers up in Washington were real GOOD at sequels. As westward expansion raced across the plains and into the mountains, they were writing additions to the constitution so fast that a man had to come along and invent the typewriter! Eventually the words became more important than the people the words were addressed to. Then, along came Lincoln. Now Abraham was a crafty fella. He took the word “United” and changed it to “Union.” Now he had to kill around six hundred and fifty THOUSAND people to make this happen, but who’s counting, right? He beat the devil out of the cotton patch, freed the slaves and ENslaved everybody else. Now watch this shell game.

To coin a phrase the south was screwed. The north still needed the cotton, only they didn’t want to PAY for it. One part of the shell game is a thing called “misdirection.” Look here, don’t look there, and while you are so distracted the bean ends up under a different shell. The south had big problems. The cotton was going out, but no gold was coming back! It was kept up in New York or some place. Slowly, but surely the south began to put two and two together and came up with FiVE! It wasn’t them Yankee bankers who were the problem. Couldn’t possibly be those politicians up in Washington. Had to be all them former slaves! So, as the south crawled out from under that rock that Lincoln had so artfully put it under they began to see what they thought was the REAL problem . . . them nasty ol’ blacks! Bean just got moved!

The reconstruction scam ran until about the 1890’s. By then the industrial revolution was in full swing and the Yankee bankers were too busy stealing THAT money to worry about that fella called Jim Crow who was alive and well in the remnants of the Confederacy. Grind in a couple of world wars and by the time the dust settled long about 1954 those guys up in Washington had a new plan. Now, by this time the “states” really no longer existed. No matter what a state said, when Washington said, “Jump” the states could only ask, “How high?” Quit laughing New York, you were hopping, too! Meanwhile the PEOPLE were being mentally sorted into selected camps. It was all very handy. You see, people come in different colors, I don’t know if y’all noticed that or not. So, you put all the blacks you can on one side of town, add a little crack, and whisper to the whites that THEY are the problem, but don’t whisper too loud because on the other side of your mouth you’re telling the blacks that the only reason they aren’t living on Park Avenue is them Crackers over there who keep them out! Repeat that for two generations and see how it works out for you! Tell an entire people that they are too stupid to succeed without affirmative action. Make it easy NOT to work and still get to eat. Then, turn around, jab the whites in the ribs and say, “Lookee there!” Uh, please note the gold is STILL in New York. THAT bean never moves! More about that later.

Wanna see the proof? Ferguson, Baltimore, McKinney, Trayvon, Michael, and Gray! Oh, the police are a problem too. New race . . . BLUE people! Middle America is understandably perplexed. Your black neighbor is just as confused reading the headlines while going to his job at the bank as YOU are, but he doesn’t have TIME to really worry about it because SOMEBODY has to fund this dog and pony show called the UNION, that bastard child of banking interests and their girlfriend the GOVERNMENT! Look here, don’t look there! The Feds aren’t the problem, the STATES are. Christians all belong to the Westboro Baptist Church, and every Mexican ever born is a member of a drug cartel! You see, they HAVE to do this because if we all took a breath, stepped back, and smelled the coffee, then we’d see where the real problem is. Fact: you can’t just decide to hunt beaver anymore. Shucks, you can’t even drink rain water. They’ve licensed GOD! They control information, too. Twenty-five gunships deployed to the border to stop Mexican helicopters shooting at our border patrol, lead story that day, some idiot in Washington State THINKS she’s black! That story DOMINATED the news for three days! I even fell for it!

America IS at the breaking point, but not in a bad way. Forget states. They died out a long time ago. You cant just draw a line and say, “Now y’all live here and they live there.”Think REGIONS! You think the Republic of Texas is that surveyed track of land you see today? Au Contraire! ” Think everything extending from there, west to California, north to include Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, and yes, south to about Mexico City. The NATION of Reconquista! From there you can quickly identify other regions, bound by common climate, resources and language all around the country who are perfectly capable of running their own business, entering into enterprise with other regions and absolutely NO interest in the war machine currently embedded on the Potomac.

Washington drew lines of demarcation in America much the same as it was done in the Middle East, with no regard for culture, history, religion, or the people themselves, and it JUST DON’T WORK! You will see the day when the people of these regions will reach for the table, pick up ALL the shells and discover there were never any beans there anyway. They were stolen long ago. Oh, there’s the bell! See you tomorrow.

Da Boyz in da Hood

Today I’m going to introduce you to the world of media manipulation. Take a breath, a sip of coffee, and think, “McKinney.” Ok, what you saw; innocent pool party in affluent neighborhood, children frolicking in the pool when police showed up, and assaulted poor black children, particularly one vexing young lass in a yellow bikini showing stark contrast to her fetching ebony butt, writhing on the grass, crying for her mother. I’ll admit it, I wiped a tear out my eye myself, right up until I saw all the marks of a set up!

Enter Marvin Bacari. No one even thought “racism” until Marvin and his little girl took to the airwaves in righteous indignation, artfully played that time proven Joker we’ve all come to know as the Race Card! As soon as the story aired the national organization, “Black Lives Matter” booked a flight, Mr. Bacari started a fund raising effort (Can’t have a riot without proper funding) and before the ink was even dry on the police report the BGI (Black Grievance Industry) was in full swing pimping the deal! God Bless AMERICA!

The pool party was NOT just a pool party, but a business model set up by one Tatyana Rhodes and her mother, LaShana Rhodes to milk a buck out of a series of such parties, complete with a sales staff working for something called Twinzzpromotions, pumping something known as “Dime Piece Cookouts” which included not one, not two, but THREE victims of racial injustice just a smiling and a waiting for someone to yell, “ACTION!” The star of the show was pretty Miss Dejerria Becton, 15, better known as “Bikini Girl,” who is, you’ll never guess, the NIECE of Marvin Bakari! Then, of course, there was Grace Stone (14) and Jahda Bakari (13) all suited up and ready to go. Weeeee’re OFF to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of cash!

Mr. Bakari had hoped to fill his coffers with about $6,000, but after his plan became more or less transparent, he shut down the fundraiser ending up with only about $90. Unfortunately this was not enough to lure the venerable Al Sharpton, but it did lure a troop of New Black Panthers, but they were probably Texas boys and $90 looked pretty good. The three little girls that Bakari was so artfully pimping had “no idea” that boys would try to get into the pool, gosh no! And it was most surprising when two of them approached a police officer from his blind side and lo and behold, one of them got arrested! (Probably because he was black )One Mr. Adrian Mosley, with a rap sheet as long as his arm was hooked up, and taken downtown. These were not “boys” they were men and an active part of something called, “Make It Clap” parties, headed up by the Rhodes, and parlayed by the “Dime Piece Girls!” Clap . . .Dime Piece . . .I digress. Oh, for your edification, Adrian, his brother Mylin and their buddies, Cam, Miles, and Devin run something called a “crew” and I’ll just let you look,that up. Uh, none of these fellows live at Craig’s Ranch, they live over in the projects. Jus Sayin!

So, Tatyana Rhodes is wearing out her iPhone looking for more “Dime Piece Girls” to fill her “Clap Parties” The promotional material for these parties would make Trayvon Martin proud. Now I’m not going to verbalize the wording or implications of these promotions, but let’s just say, jus sayin! So, we get this thing rolling, boyz in the hood come over the fence, cops get called, little Miss Yellow Bikini humps for the camera AFTER taunting a police officer into corralling her, some fat white kid pulls out his cell phone, and a partridge in-a pear tree!

Contrived, choreographed, roll, cut, print! Officer lost his job, Rhodes made some money, and da boyz wuz back in da hood waiting for the next “Clap Party!” Now folks, this is what it really is! There is an emerging industry capitalizing on a CASINO full of race cards, and there are more than enough poorly educated black kids to FILL those casinos, the pockets of the promoters, and the streets of whichever city they choose to burn down NEXT! What amazed me was the police chief not figuring this out. A cop DID need to be fired . . . HIM!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

Ain’t Jemima

You know, I watch liberals every day, and I get a lot of entertainment out of them, but every now and then they excel in the preposterous. I give you Rachel Dolezal, Negro extraordinaire! I made a decision Saturday to take the weekend off, but my fingers were just a twitching until this morning. You can’t make this stuff up, and to make it funnier, it was in Washington State! You think California is crazy? Washington State is the best kept secret in the country. At least two thirds of the population are homosexual potheads. All that aside I would have thought they’d gotten COLOR right. This is the epitome of political correctness. They’re so white they’re BLACK!

So I’m watching this woman being queried by a reporter, who is plainly asking her what COLOR she is, and she’s stumble-bumbling through the interview saying things like, “I don’t understand what you’re saying!” What he’s saying, baby, is “Yo hair don’ fit yo haid!” She was a chapter president for the NAACP no less, and they MISSED that? I reviewed pictures over the years with her complexion going through several levels of negrocity. Again, the hair! (Was Shirley Temple black?) I’m surprised she didn’t Botox her lips. Hey, now I’m just a simple ol’ boy from Austin, but I did a litmus test and outed her right off the bat. I checked out several YouTube videos and baby did NOT have BACK!

Please forgive me, Liberals, but you simply can’t discuss this story and NOT get racial. She’s a fairly cute kid, all but the hair. A little boxy, but heck, that’s no deal killer. What I don’t get is what difference did it make? Oh, yes . . . You gotta be black, or derivative thereof to be in NAACP! Now “those” people (did I really just say that?) can have black holidays, black clubs, black PANTHERS, and black presidents, but the rest of us can’t even have a white angel food cake. This nonsense has held sway so long that it was thought it was so tied up so tight that it would never come unraveled. Then, somebody spilled the chitlins, er, beans, and de walls come a tumblin down!

Now, before you libtards go into a feeding frenzy remember I’m white trash. I’m the Cracker in the woodpile. Good, sound people of ALL colors are laughing their selves silly over this right now. It’s not as funny as Bruce Gender, but it’s right up there in the top five! This fool gets caught with her pants down (wonder if she . . . .no, not gonna go there) and the liberals all begin to spin. The NAACP is really caught between the rock and the hard place because they now have to face their OWN racism. Did she do the job or NOT? Would her race really affect her job performance? More importantly, would she have risen to prominence if she were white? Swat them bees! For the time being they’re stuck with Ain’t Jemima. Wonder where Al Sharpton is on this issue?

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

Week of 6/13/2015

This Week

After my sterling, Pulitzer Prize winning conclusion to yesterday’s article, if you understood that I have no love for Waco, you’d be right. As a matter of fact, if ISIS were to hit Waco I’d probably just say, “Good shot!” I have reasons for this. I didn’t just pick Waco because I got a speeding ticket there. For all its Baylor University, and that silly bridge, Waco is the most convoluted, screwed up mess I’ve ever seen.

After my article yesterday I did my usual research. As you may or may not know, I’m going to Waco to support the victims of the latest perversion of justice perpetrated by that thin blue line we’ve all come to know and love. I alluded to the “other” little adventure back in ’93 not all that far from Twin Peaks. A place called Mount Carmel.

Now, before I get started I’d like to set things straight. David Koresh was a weirded out soap box preacher looking forward to the end of the world. He had his own explanation for the Book of Revelation. So did Joseph Smith, Charles Russell, Jerry Falwell, and every Pentecostal preacher who ever talked in tongues. When you take a highly encrypted work, in Greek no less, written by a guy who didn’t want to get crucified, that’s what you get. Nowhere in the work does it say, “Jesus will return at seven o’clock, April 16, 2017, right after the nightly news.” It says things like, “Know the signs,” and right THERE is the rub! Early Christians were so busy looking up for the “return in this generation,” that they failed to notice those lions spilling out into the arena for the entertainment of the unwashed masses of Rome. So, for over two thousand years Christians have been pouring over Revelation trying to pinpoint the date, which was EXACTLY what Jesus told them NOT to do. David Koresh was no different. If you want to gain followers just tell a bunch of people that Jesus is going to pick up the mortgage. A little wine always helps.

Let’s be frank. Religious freedom in America is a myth. You are religiously free so long as you conform. You can have church on Sunday morning, and eat fried chicken that afternoon, but if you are Mormon, and bring TWO wives to dinner Uncle Sam will declare war on your whole friggin’ state! And the Muslims rant and rave about how we don’t respect their “prophet,” well get in line buddy. That path to persecution has been well worn by thousands before you! I have observed that when some group claims that God is on their side their will invariably be an opposing group claiming sole ownership of the Deity, leading free thinkers, such as myself to conclude that God simply MUST be bi-polar. Is He? Well, of course He isn’t. Religion is! Religion is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable. Write that down, there’ll be a quiz later.

All this having been said, was David Koresh any crazier than a Hare Krishna banging those gongs at LAX, begging for change? Well, no he wasn’t. But, the Hare Krishna has one thing going for him that David overlooked. The guy at the airport is in California, and David chose to live in bat-crap crazy Waco, the epicenter of knowledge, mom’s apple pie, and law enforcement who wouldn’t know what the constitution was if it ran up and bit them in the leg!

So, what was so wrong with the Branch Davidians? They believed the end was upon us. (So do the Mormons.) They held to the Old Testament and restricted their diet. (So do the Jews.) It is alleged they dabbled in polygamy. (Allah anyone?) So what was so bad up at Mount Carmel that the United States government had to mount an attack not seen in Texas since the Alamo? Well, them preacher boys had some guns. And they were holed up in a compound built from shipping crates believing when the end DID come that the government would attack Christians. Uh, if you will note, that building ain’t there no mo’!

The right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed! Even Joseph Smith didn’t have to put up with being told that he couldn’t protect himself. Without going into a lengthy discussion of if David was “legally” licensed to bear arms I refer you to this site:

Please remember the First Amendment, número UNO, says, “shall not be infringed!” So why did David and his band of merry men feel that they needed guns? Could it be that good ol’ “religious freedom” thing, and crazy right wing fanatics out there sending them hate mail on almost a daily basis? You think? Did the Davidians mount a militia and attack Waco? Nope. They fed the poor who dropped by and for the food the guests had to put up with David’s preaching.

If you take a hog, flip him over, and examine those little bumps running along his belly, well, those bumps are far more useful than the ATF! I had thought there were perhaps ten or fifteen agents involved in that attack. There were TRUCKS full!! Old David MIGHT have had fully automatic weapons, the ATF DID have them and charged Mount Carmel reminiscent of the siege of the Alamo. One big difference, though. Generalissimo Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna was a seasoned army officer, and the ATF was a band of fools who got their tails blown off by a bunch of preachers on a Sunday morning! Bad hair day for the DIS-United States! When they embarked on this Tom foolery the federal agents invited the media, indeed, giving some of them rides! When they were begging the Branch Davidians to at least let them collect their dead from the battle field their opinion of the press was, shall we say, “Modified?” When I was reviewing file footage taken right after the initial assault I heard “MFer” so many times I thought I was watching a Richard Pryor routine!

So, here we had the ATF licking their wounds, herky-jerky Janet Reno trying to wipe that omelette off her face, and about eighty religious nuts thumbing their noses from the windows of the Best Little Church House in Texas! Bring in the snipers! There was this one guy. He popped the wife/mother up at Ruby Ridge. Chris Kyle he was NOT! Well, this idiot was positioned as a part of not one but three teams set up to shoot at anyone daring to look out a window. Now, bear in mind, this is STILL a church, and there are STILL women and children within said church. Did these people believe David’s prophesy about the end times? Just look out the window . . . carefully, there’s snipers out there!

It took Santa Anna thirteen days to neutralize the Alamo. On day fifty-two the ATF finally devised a plan to end the Battle of Mount Carmel. They were gonna gas ’em! Hitler would be so proud. Oh, I watched the FBI guy going on and on about “low doses” of CS gas, but I have two problems with that. One, CS gas! You know, that stuff you throw under a tank to make the guys inside puke and exit? Yeah, THAT stuff. Low dose? That’s like being a “little bit pregnant.” The occupants inside the compound sent the women and children to a concrete bunker for safety. The ATF pumped “low doses” of CS gas into that bunker for FOUR hours! I can’t stand a smoky BAR for four hours. And, oh yes, the attackers knew where everyone was because they HAD people INSIDE planting bugs so as to hear what was going on. At one point these spies were even at grabbing distance of David himself but we’re told to “Stand down” because Janet had “another” plan!

Bring in the tanks! That’s right, tanks. Pumping these “low doses,” pushing down walls and, oh yes, firing fully automatic fire from helicopters. Inside we had people who had been deprived of sleep, hungry, cold, restricted to about eight ounces of rain water per day, totally believing that this was the apocalyptic battle David had warned them about. We all know how it ended, and we all had to put up with the government spin regurgitated for YEARS after. There was even a congressional hearing, with all the congressmen showing righteous indignation, and do you want to know what came out of those hearings? NADA! Now one arrest of any FBI, ATF, not even ONE missed paycheck, indeed PROMOTIONS!

So why do I hate Waco? I hate Waco because the Sheriff, police, DPS, and all the rest just stood by and WATCHED this happen! Just like they did on May 17th at Twin Peaks! Just like Mount Carmel they stood by until the situation blew completely up, and then over reacted in true Waco fashion. Two bikers got into a fight in a bar. Some preacher-boy’s paperwork wasn’t in order. See the pattern? The ATF could have arrested David Koresh at Walmart. Four cops could have handcuffed two bikers that day in the parking lot. It’s that simple, but then, I’m just a Simple Ol’ Boy from Austin so what do I know? One image is burned into my mind. I saw, yesterday, an ATF agent after the fall of Mount Carmel holding up a toddler’s sleeper. It was the exact same one from Walmart that my grandson, NewBaby wears! I will NEVER forgive Waco!

How would you like to have a job where there was virtually no retribution for any mistakes you made, the customer was always wrong, and even your most unsupported ideas became locked in stone no matter how unsubstantiated the supporting data was? Welcome to the world of the prosecutor! Cops have a relatively simple job. Arrest people whom THEY think, or have been told, are breaking the law. That’s really all they do, folks. They’re called to a fight, and if one or more of the parties are like, say, black, they just haul ’em down to the ol’ station house and “book them.” Then a judge comes in, tells the infractor what they supposedly did, and sets a reasonable bail (unless you’re in Waco, then it’s your butt!) At this point your fate will be turned over to something called a “persecutor.”

Let me explain what a prosecutor is. Well, first off they are lawyers, and that’s never good. They go off to college for four years, hopefully learning to read, something missed by most high schools these days. People destined to become lawyers have demonstrated a proficiency for lying, so after college they run off to liar’s school. Some folks called it law school, some call it lair’s school, I call it a sling blade, um hum! The reason I say “liar’s school” is because they don’t learn law there, they learn to twist the truth. If just learning law were the case they could just study the constitution and be done with it, but heck, if that was all law was we wouldn’t need lawyers, now would we? Get caught with a gun, whip out the old pocket constitution, show it to the judge (master liar,) read the second amendment, and stroll right out the door. Shucks! Ain’t no money in that! No, lawyers go to liar’s school to learn to look up something call “legal precedents.” Now a legal precedent is a funny critter and there’s a lot of money to be made if you can skin one. Works like this here: Billy Joe Jim Bob comes up for carrying around that gun I previously alluded to. Now there’s no doubt he did it because when officer O’Henry knocked him in the head it fell right out on the ground. (That’s called “evidence.”) Billy Joe winds up in court with the gun in a little plastic bag. Now, like I said, this should be simple. Billy Joe can’t actually speak to the judge because he don’t talk law talk, but he’s got a lawyer and that guy should be able to just read that little copy of the constitution and be done with it. Au Contraire! The prosecutor falls back on a precedent. Some time, way back, a judge made a “ruling”‘where it was figured out that in spite of what the constitution said, it really meant something else. Usually takes a bit of explaining to do, those other lawyers sitting on the supreme court, many months of thought, and about one hundred and fifty pages to explain what that one little sentence in the constitution really meant, anyway, they read it out loud and it became, you got it . . . a PRECEDENT!

Well, that’s what liar’s school is all about! All that prosecutor fella has to do is “cite” that precedent and Billy Joe Jim Bob eats beanie-weenies for one hundred and eighty days, give or take a few depending on if Edna, the county clerk remembers to log him in at the right date. Of course they fine the be-Jesus out of him, the prosecutor and judge split the money, call it a day.

So, this young academic spends three years learning how to chase precedents. Then he has to sit before something called the “bar” and if he can prove he’s a bigger liar than the bunch on the other side of that thing then he gets a license to “practice” law. That’s opposed to “doing” law, you can only “practice” law, what with so many precedents out there, and so many other liars a chasing them no one can ever really be sure what the “law” is so you never commit to knowing what you’re doing, you’re just “practicing.”

So now we have a lawyer. Now a lawyer is not an attorney, or vice versa. Theoretically, a lawyer works for you, and an attorney works for the judge. In reality they all drink from the same bottle at that other “bar” down the street. That all having been said you’d think after all that schooling this newly minted motor mouth would hang out a shingle and get to work for truth, justice, and the American way. Well, most do, but there’s some that just can’t see that. They figure the odds. You see, if you have your own show you have to find customers, and actually DO something, and if your client has anything at all, they’ll pay you to keep from eating them beanie-weenies previously mentioned. Some folks go to work, and some folks head on off down to the welfare office. THAT’S a “prosecutor!” A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and if that bird’s in JAIL?

So there you sit, innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Oh, you’re still in jail, and the prosecutor works up a case. Now some cases get dropped. Like say, if you were in Keyna at the time the 7/11 got stuck up in Yuma. There’s about a 50/50 chance the case might get dropped, unless the prosecutor can find one of them there precedents. More than likely you’ll come to trial and youTHINK your lawyer is on your team. Always remember, HE’S not the one in jail, YOU are! If you are the one paying your lawyer you may have a chance, but it you got one of them “pro-bono” fellas, forget about it. Let me tell you what pro-bono is. Pro-bono is where you can’t afford your own liar so the judge picks his cousin to represent you. That pretty much sums it up.

Hopefully you’re free on bail, another real nice money pit, because the judge’s other cousin has a company that will stand good for your “innocent” butt to walk around semi free while all the liars meet at the bar and try to figure out what you’re worth to them. The prosecutor isn’t the least bit interested in the truth. He’s busy stacking the case. If you have a pro-bono liar he’s a gonna want you to do something called a plea out. A plea out is where you say you done it, even though you didn’t, so the judge and the lawyers don’t have to actually work and put in a full day. That and all all the other “innocents” out in the hall waiting to see if their liar skinned their precedent because this lawyer work is big business. To sum the court room up, the prosecutor is not the least bit interested in the truth and the opposing lawyers are not the least bit interested in the truth . . . Wait! That makes them one and the same, now doesn’t it? Yep! Heeeeere’s your sign!

So they go to lying. You may even have a jury. Of course the judge is going to let them know what the “law” is, of course he ain’t gonna tell them about them precedents, he’s still mad because you didn’t plead out and was stupid enough to think you were going to walk out of that courtroom with your shirt. Most likely you’re going to be found guilty, but let’s just suppose, for the sake of argument, something goes wrong and you spit the hook. Now let’s count this all up. You hired your own liar. You gave the judge’s cousin money to wink at the sheriff and get you out of jail. Oh, and when you did get out your boss fired you because everybody knows that if you weren’t guilty you’d never got arrested in the FIRST place. You lived on your wife’s tips for about six months, but,she left you. But you’re FREE! As you leave the courtroom you notice the prosecutor going through his brief case digging out the paperwork on the next “innocent” person being led before his “honor,” and what did it cost the prosecutor? Nothing! Nada, just a little egg on his face and HE has to pay for the first round at the country club tonight when this dog and pony show wraps up. Now wouldn’t it seem more fair that if the next morning that “servant” of the people showed up and on his desk is a nice bill for all your lost wages, your bail, your costs of your liar, and a little tip for your hurt feelings? A date with his wife might be a nice touch. Don’t you think the possibility of that would make this ego maniac dig a little bit deeper before going precedent hunting? Gotta watch them there precedents!

Big events up in MdKinney, Texas! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m going there, deal with it. I talk a lot about Berry Creek. Berry Creek is an exclusive community with a country club, tennis and golf, and of course, a great big swimming pool. Apparently Craig Ranch North Community is a lot like Berry Creek. First let’s get political.

All this Democratic stuff streaming out of the White House about, “Spread the wealth,” and, “If I had a son he’d look like him,” are all very fine, but you know what happens when you subscribe to that mindset? You get to live in the projects, that’s what! You get to look over the fence at places like Berry Creek, and Craig Ranch, and those people living there pay a lot of taxes to hire police to throw you BACK over that fence should you decide to invite yourself to a pool party. Wow! That stings, don’t it? See, THAT’S why your parents should have worked a good job instead of doing all that crack. Hey, I’m sorry if this hurts your widdle feelings. I grew up in Simmonsville and lived in Berry Creek! All men are created equal, but they don’t STAY equal! In every dog race there’s one lead dog and for the rest, the view never changes.

I’m loving this! I can just see the liberals out there with their hair on fire right now. “Oh Wilbur! Are you saying black kids don’t have a right to swim? Black swimming rights matter!” Sure they can swim. Find a creek . . . I DID! You see, there’s nothing rougher on kids like that than poor white trash like me that stumbled into some money. And I’ll swear before God and five other old white men that when I got to Berry Creek I let them know I was in TOWN! I owned not one, but THREE mansions there, and that gave me three votes down at the club, so when I sat down the board just met! They hated my living guts, but you know what? The respected my right to be there because I’d EARNED it! They knew that we had something on the ball or we wouldn’t be there. Capitalism and the American Dream is so simple. If you rob a bank and get $100,000 the FBI will spend $1,000,000 tracking you down. If you glue two things together that have never been glued together before and sell 100,000 copies of it you get the SAME $100,000 and the FBI comes to your dinner parties. It’s so simple.

Now that we’ve completed socio-economics 101, let’s move on to civics. School’s in suckahs! The kids coming over that fence are only partially to blame. The rest sits directly on the parents. If you have two married HETEROSEXUAL parents in the home, with a high school education, and JOBS, traditionally you get respectful kids who go by the rules of society. If you get people, I refuse to call them parents, who shun their responsibility, blame society, and consider their children accidents who just “came along” they tend to raise kids who crash pool parties where they are not invited! Guests come in through the front door, criminals come over the fence! Swat them uninvited bees!

There’s the bell. Time to move on to geography. Kid pulls toy gun up in Ohio . . . dead kid! Man tried to run away because he owed child support . . . dead guy! Man sells a cigarette on streets of New York . . . another dead guy! Kid shoots her mouth off at a Texas cop during a hyper situation involving dozens of suspects . . . butt whipping! I don’t wanna HEAR about the blankity blank “wild west” any more! When the situation escalated and Officer Casebolt drew his weapon I noticed another officer tap him on the shoulder from behind and say something. And the officer used bad language. Alert the media! In fact they DID alert the media. Like these kids coming over that fence had never heard language like that before. If you believe that have I got a bridge for you, and it’s on SALE! One more thing; in an affluent community, with chaperones all around, could it be that at least ONE of them had a CHL? You think? NO DEAD KIDS!

Did the kids learn anything? Nope! All they got was reinforcement that if you break the law, disregard the rights of others, and act like a fool all you gotta do is break out a cell phone, point to the color of your skin, and the mainstream angels WILL sing! Now people are marching around McKinney with signs proclaiming “Black Lives Matter!” Al Sharpton may even make an appearance. The president may even sign an executive order. Obamapools!

For the last week I’ve been studying police shootings from both sides of the issue. I’ve read court records, viewed dozens of autopsy photos, and watched hours of video, both public, and private. I’ve talked informally with police officers, and “thugs,” and watched at least twenty chiefs of police use the word, “justified,” when confronted by the press, and grieving friends and relatives. In my usual manner I have simplified all of this, and come to some conclusions, some of which may surprise you.

There are not one, but two “oldest” professions in the world. One, as you know, is prostitution. The other is the police officer. Since before recorded history there have always been men hired to protect those who cannot protect themselves. The shop keeper in Rome, who could not lift a sword handily, depended on the Centurion who stood at the ready, so that any woman could safely walk the streets at night. Saint Paul was executed in Rome, as was Peter, but if you will note, they both got there safely. No matter how political, or perverse the Emperor was, the Centurion on the street was very simple and direct. Maintain order, serve, and protect the citizens of Rome. All societies have these men. All societies have a portion of the populace that will break the rules and by brute force, take what is not theirs. While the politicians redefine words, and yes, even lie, it is the police officer who looks the perpetrator in the eye, and in a split second, must make the choice between life and death . . . often, his OWN life and death. They understand this, they accept it.

One of the videos I watched was a security film of an encounter at an apartment complex. There was no sound, but an officer was questioning someone. There was no altercation, the officer speaking, and the other man nodding, both seemingly at ease. Then, the officer points as if to tell the man to step away for a moment, and as he turns, and pulls a note pad from his pocket, the man that he was talking to pulls a gun, and shoots him in the back of the head. THIS is the grim reality of police work! This is why officers are so skittish when questioning even the most mundane of citizens.

It ain’t like in the movies. Remember that statement, there’ll be a quiz later. Clint Eastwood draws his Smith & Wesson, takes careful aim, and shoots a suspect at one hundred yards with a carefully placed bullet, while munching a hot dog. That never happens, and Miley Cyrus will not taking me to dinner tonight. In a face to face gunfight there are dozens of bullets flying and any one of them can put an officer in the same position as that one scribbling on his note pad that day.

Think about this; when you go to work today, about the most dangerous part of your day is your commute. If you are reasonably alert you pay attention to traffic, obey all the laws, and you will hopefully arrive safely at your office with your Starbucks in hand. In a police officer’s world the safest part of his day is the trip to work, and his ambition is to make a safe trip home to his family. Imagine, if you will, that every ONE of your customers may be your last. The police officer never enters a situation unless something is wrong. From speeding ticket to domestic disturbance, most of the people the officer will encounter do NOT want him to be there, and surprisingly, the domestic disturbance is the most dangerous. The officer must enter another’s territory, unaware of the background, or weapons, or drugs and alcohol involved. He may see a battered woman, but be totally unaware that the reason she is battered is because her husband just came home and caught her and her boyfriend. The husband’s entire life plan just evaporated ten minutes before the officer arrived, and frankly, he’s ready to die. Turn the tables, and the woman is not battered, indeed, she called the police, meeting them at the door with accusations of her man being drunk, and loud, and in the dim light the officer doesn’t even see the two black eyes the man is sporting from an abusive, combative wife. He has no idea of who else is in the house, there are loud words, the man of the house picks up his dinner plate with a steak knife still on it, and the officer fires! Of course, the grieving wife gets a lot of attention on the nightly news as she tells what a wonderful father and husband her deceased husband (was.)

Knife seems to play a large role in police shootings. Remember, it ain’t like in the movies. To the novice, it would seem that an officer, armed with a gun, would be invincible to something as simple as a steak knife. I’m going to enlighten you. It’s almost better to be shot. I was a Realtor for a number of years. I’ve measured many homes, and rarely have I seen a living room wider than fifteen feet, most are about twelve. Even our spacious home in Berry Creek was only twenty feet across the main sitting area, the other rooms were smaller. Do the math. The suspect, and officer are more than likely not standing against opposing walls, making the distance much closer. Two steps in and a slash. Now I know you won’t do this, but imagine it, if you will, hanging a pork roast from a door frame, take a common, rather small butcher knife, and make a quick swing at it. The cut will extend from six to eight inches, maybe more, about two to three inches deep. Transpose that to your own torso, and your will quickly see why officers shout rather loudly, “DROP THE KNIFE!” A knife can be much deadlier than a bullet. Again, it ain’t like in the movies.

People believe that when a bullet hits, the person shot will go down, drop the weapon and turn totally submissive. Not so. First off, they’re upset, maybe crazy, drunk, or suicidal. They may not even know they’ve been shot, or if they do, imagine it’s all over, their chips are all on the table, and it’s time to go out in a blaze of glory. The acceptance of your own death is surprisingly calm. When I was crushed between two cars in 1970, I thought I was going to die. Both legs broken, bones sticking out everywhere. From the way I was hit I thought my femur artery was severed, and I knew it took about thirty seconds to bleed out. I began to count backwards from thirty, and when I got to zero, was pleasantly surprised. At no time was I afraid. I figured my ticket was punched, and waited for darkness to fall.

There is a type of wound called, “through and through, concerning an area that rests on either side of your body from just below your ribs about an inch or so in toward your navel. Love handles. Back in the days of the “wild west” outlaws knew that if they were hit there that they could drag a silk handkerchief through the bullet wound and would live. Most likely the bullet would pass all the way through and leave a clean, sanitized hole. Don’t believe me? Check out David Koresh on his video where he’s sitting on the floor at Mount Carmel. See the spot on his shirt? See where he raises that shirt to show where the bullet exited? David was shot “through and through.” I might add that he had the presence of mind to close the door that morning and retreat back into the building.

THIS is the reason for the many shots. THIS is the reason for handcuffing a seemingly incapacitated man. THIS is the reason many officers have been wounded, or even killed by a suspect they thought was down for the count! It ain’t like in the movies! The police must play by the rules of engagement every time, and even one mistake, a half second lapse of diligence can spell disaster. The officer must read the test correctly and make straight “As” or he’s DEAD! Just like the one at that apartment that day.

Do officers make mistakes? Yes. When you combine the many factors in a police encounter the formula becomes astronomical. “Procedure was correctly followed.” You hear that over and over again, and it makes the general public mad. That’s all the police officer has, procedure! He doesn’t have time to reflect, consider, or rewrite the rules, he has one second, and his training in procedure to survive. What should you do if you become involved in a situation involving a police officer? Here’s where I will surprise you. FORGET about your rights, the constitution, and all those things you think you learned on YouTube. Your “procedure” is to convince that officer that you are no threat to either him, or anyone else. If civil rights have been violated there are lawyers for that . . . later! YOU make a safe trip down to the old “PD,” and call your lawyer, call your congressman, call your mother (she loves you,) but you do EXACTLY what that officer says, and you will most likely wake up in the morning.

Now, let’s look at McKinney from the officer’s point of view. Yeah, yeah, yeah, they were kids. Billy the Kid was about nineteen when he blasted sixteen dimes through Deputy Bob’s chest before stealing a horse and escaping jail, I don’t want to hear it! I’ve read all the stuff about there was only one fight between two people, but THAT’S not what the officers came up on. They came into a situation involving dozens of people running in dozens of different directions, NOT obeying lawful orders being given to them by officers of the law! Oh, but they were just kids. Remember that pork roast? A ten year old girl can do that with a pocket knife! “Sit DOWN,” has no other meaning. If a person is sitting down it only goes to follow that it will take him a moment to get up, and harm himself, or others. Did the officer in question get a bit out of control? Well, a bit, but consider this; he’d been chasing, and screaming at a crowd of unruly kids for minutes, and TOLD Miss Yellow Bikini to leave, not once, but THREE times, when she decided to become a Philadelphia lawyer, and yes, she got slammed, and yes, she got a knee on her back. Good MORNING, honey . . . smell that coffee yet? Sure would have been better if you’d just walked away like the officer TOLD you to do! I wish in my life, and many altercations with police they’d told me to “just leave.”

Examination of shootings involving officers are hard. You say, “Well, the man was shot in the back.” OK, but consider this; It’s one thing to shoot someone in the back who is loping across a field, but quite another to fire on a man who WAS running toward you, but decided to turn away at the last second AS the officer was squeezing the trigger. Any shooting must be investigated, but always remember, most police shootings ARE justified, and the only litmus test IS procedure. We have a dangerous mindset developing in this country where the police are automatically suspect in any altercation. It’s becoming a rite of passage to film an officer making an error during an encounter, and most of the time the video is only the so called error and NOT the situation leading up to the event. As a society we cannot forward this idea. We must consider all things and remember . . . It ain’t like in the movies!

Suppose you threw a riot, and nobody came? I’ll be honest with you, for all my talk about how we do things down here in Texas I really thought McKinney was about to fire up. And the mainstream media was working it like a dog on a dead armadillo. Speaking of, you will notice the police chief curled up at the very first hit on YouTube. Now I’m not going to call him names, but when I go to see my friend, Tom, well he’s got chickens, and there’s this stuff that sticks to your feet. That’s the police chief over to McKinney, Texas.

I saw some New Black Panthers strolling across the Tarmac at the airport. I’ve always admired that look. You know, the dark suits, shades, frown, really intimidating stuff. Now what’s funny is they looked just as serious about some chick getting booty slammed as they would if the cops had machine gunned the who lot of them!

“We gotta go to Texas and fight for the people!”

“What’s going on down there? Did some poor defenseless brother get killed for smoking a cigarette?”

“No, some girl got slapped down, and the cop put his knee on her butt!”

“Was she black”


“Get the brothers and book a flight.”

I didn’t notice Sharpton, yet. I was really looking forward to that. I wanted to meet him. I mean, he DOES have a TV show, and I’ve always been a sucker for an autograph. So I sat up last night, drinking beer, scanning the news, waiting for the “guns of June” to go off. NOTHING! Not even one domestic disturbance. I even had the article already done. I just took the one imwrote about Ferguson, and switched the names, dates, and location. HEY! Works for Al Sharpton! But, this story just wouldn’t fly. And Fox News TRIED, oh God did they try. They finally scrounged up the only fool who got arrested and the charges were subsequently dropped, probably at the insistence of Chief Cover Mi Ase. He mumbled something about “helping that poor girl.” That’s when I went ahead and did THIS story. I thought that if I give it enough time something would come about. Maybe not the whole down town, but maybe burn the mayor’s doghouse . . . SOMETHING! Nope.

The Chief said he was very proud of the eleven officers who behaved according to procedures. Ok, dozens of kids running in dozens of different directions while the police trip and flop on the ground. I’m not kidding, watch the video. With ISIS on the edge of the Golan Heights, Iran waiting for its shipment of enriched uranium from the White House, the Chinese going through the US Goverment’s databases like they WORK there, we are all focused on a yellow bikini. Hey, like my Puerto Rican friend, Jay would say, “I ain’t even gonna lie to you,” I was looking at her butt, too. (Lord, I’m sorry I did that, I promise not to do that again.)

All this having been said, they just couldn’t crank a proper riot out of that bikini. For one thing, it’s just too hot to riot in Texas. Up in Ferguson, or Baltimore, you can jump around and act like a fool, but after say ninety-five degrees or so, the energy level goes way down. Uh, maybe that’s why the kids were swimming, you think? Also, McKinney is just a darned nice place to live. Summer just started . . . This is TEXAS!

One more thing. When someone like Al Sharpton takes hold of a “gig” he plays it over and over until it doesn’t sell any more. Sharpton watches the news, waiting for something, anything, that will fit into his race baiting formula. Any time a cop fires his gun, if there is a black person in the STATE, he’ll jump on the next flight and fan the flames of fury, collect his fee, and beat feet back to New York, waiting for the next big thing. With the ashes cooling in Baltimore he was desperate. Then, there it was! An itsy bitsy, teeny weenie, yellow poka-dot bikini, with a big ol’ white cop sitting right on top of it. This wasn’t race baiting, it was race trawling! One problem was, there really wasn’t a STORY here. Chief chickened out, cop quit, charges dropped, and the kids went right back to swimming. The people in Baltimore be like, “A bunch of spoiled brats crashed a Country Club swim party being thrown by some other spoiled brats.” And let’s be honest; that was a beautiful, well fed, well groomed young lady in a very nice swimsuit. I wish she’d crash MY party! Rosa Parks she was NOT! And them New Black Panthers sure did look good, didn’t they?