Shots Fired

Shots FiredIMG_2467! Last night I had plans of doing an article this morning about the event in Minnesota. I had watched the Facebook live feed several times, and was particularly taken by the woman being forced to her knees crying out about the whereabouts of her daughter after her boyfriend had been killed during a routine traffic stop. I planned to rip and tear at the police there, and compare them with the steady eye of Wyatt Earp. After last night in Dallas, you will never see that article.

Black Lives Matter does about as much good in relaxing racial tension in this country as throwing gasoline on a fire. If you will note, the march in Dallas was a peaceful one. That doesn’t surprise me. Last year, when we had the “swimming pool” scandal, complete with a pretty teenage girl in a yellow swimsuit, agitators, who came down from Chicago to orchestrate the event, saw their plans for anarchy evaporate in the Texas sun as the local teens showed more interest in summer break than sitting in the street disrupting traffic. During the Ferguson flap no Texas cities were burned, and there were no repercussions after the death of Sandra Bland. Texans simply don’t do that no matter what color they are.

Texas DID have an active KKK in time past. We have fought wars on our own ground, lived through Bonnie and Clyde, Indian raids, Waco (twice) Charles Whitman, Luby’s and Fort Hood. We are well seasoned in Tom Foolery. It is fashionable to point at Texans, the guns, the hats, the music, and allude to the population being a form of Neanderthal. What you saw in Dallas last night will show you that you need us Neanderthals!

When a Muslim kills, and Donald Trump raises the option to oust all Muslims, there is always an outcry from organizations such as C.A.I.R. citing that one person does not define an entire people. I’ll guarantee you that before the day is over you will hear Hillary Clinton suggesting that the best solution to last night’s event will be to disarm America, and most especially Texas! I want you to know that when the shots rang out last night one protester, a black Texan, immediately surrendered his AR-15 to an officer, showing he was not involved, and was not a danger. Please further note that the Dallas officer did not shoot the man, who was carrying the rifle as a demonstration of his second amendment rights, and a visual protest to the shooting of the man in Minnesota.

During the last eight years the dividing line between black and white has grown more solid. I’ve seen, and heard things that I haven’t seen or heard since I was a child in 1950’s Louisiana. Groups such as Black Lives Matter cause events that funnel people into the streets, and money into the pockets of the organizers, but they overlook one simple fact. The majority of Americans simply want to be left alone, and allowed to go about their lives in peace. They long for the day when they can teach their children that if they become lost, find a police officer, and he/she will get them home.

There will be no “race war.” In the 60’s the term “race war” was always in the air, while the bulk of America punched the time clock and went on about their business. While the image of the fire hoses still comes to mind, last night police officers died . . . protecting black protestors! Shots fired! I have a dream. I have a friend, Kent Frank’s. He’s black, and, yes, he’s a Yankee. He comes from the same era that I do. I want to meet him one day. I want to fly him to Austin and take him to a bar and grill I frequent on 6th street. My friend will not be in any danger. He will enjoy the Austin nights the same as anyone else, and maybe, just maybe, the sound of “shots fired” will become fainter, and fainter, until music is all we hear.

Knock Knock

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“Knock Knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“The Police.”

“Police who?”

“The Police who’re gonna light your ass up if you don’t open this door right now!”

No knock home invasions are just about the stupidest procedure that has ever been devised by man. Combine that with relying on a tip from some meth head, and you have the perfect storm. A call comes into the TIPS line. So and so has some grass and he’s thinking about selling it. Before I go on let me tell you about the town in question. Killeen, Texas. Ok, where do I begin? I grew up there. People in Killeen think the world must be flat because when people leave town they never come back. It’s been called the “City without limits,” but that didn’t really strike home until the city council extended said limits almost to Austin! Everything north of Rancier, and west of W. S. Young is a crack house. I crappith thee not! If you wanna get robbed just take a stroll down tenth street about one A. M. with gold teeth in your mouth. About the only thing you can say about Killeen that is different is that you can get anything you want to eat there. American, Mexican, small dogs, tourists, you name it. You can buy dope easier in Killeen than you can an Apple Computer. The town sits like a tumor on Fort Hood, sucking the life out of each soldier’s payday. Is there anything I missed? Recently took an award for being the best town to marry a hooker! Hey, you can’t make this stuff up.

Practically every single dope head in town is some kind of “informant,” thereby assuring spare change for a “rock,” and a form of immunity, so they ring up the line regularly. Forget that crap about “snitches,” they’re all snitches. So, back to the original story line. Tip comes in, the cars roll up, and the hood fills up with law. Doors get kicked in, homeboys go to jail, become snitches, and get out in two weeks with “time served.” So, what’s the legal implications when a bunch of cops kick in a door, surprise the occupants therein, and an officer gets killed? Why, you charge the shooter with capital murder! Oh, did I mention the Bell County Justice Department? Yeah! You know, the same clowns who arrested C. J. Grisham for not breaking the law. Impeding an officer during the consumption of a donut, or something like that. During said raid no dope was found. Officer got killed. Didn’t affect the movement of one gram of dope in Killeen.

Back to the “knock knock” joke. What’s wrong with calling out with one of them bull horns something like, “We have a search warrant. This is the Police?” “Oh, Wilbur, that’ll take away the advantage of surprise.” Oh, so it’s better to go charging in, with no knowledge of what’s inside, scaring the pee pee out of everyone, and getting an officer killed, right? The sad thing is that in spite of its bastard nature, Killeen has a fairly good police force, and to get an officer killed like this is a crime against humanity. There is something fundamentally wrong with no knock searches. The fourth amendment protects us against unreasonable searches, and not being told that a search warrant has been issued, and crashing through someone’s front door is unreasonable.

Police work is hard enough without this. When just walking up to a traffic stop can get you killed an officer does not need to be put in danger like this. It’s not the cops, folks, it’s the system. Wanna get really pissed off? Let’s just say the raid went off as planned. The cops entered the apartment found a joint, arrested the guy, and off to Bell County he goes. Then, he gets a deal, snitches, and walks out. First off, what did the joint hurt? Second, why are we paying these people in the Justice Center? Knock knock? Who’s there? An officer who deserves a chance to go home to his family.

The Law of the Jungle

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The law of the jungle has replaced the rule of law in America. Thousands of protestors came to shut down a Donald Trump rally in Chicago, but that’s no surprise. Liberal thought has pervaded American politics for decades. True, there have been brief moments of sanity, i.e. Raegan, Bush, but by and large, the ideals have been less ideals and more slanted to the left for the sake of left. Abortions, gay marriage, stomping the flag and political correctness did not just pop out of thin air, it took some work, or not work, rather. Insidiously the entire nation became California with a capital “C,” and silly notions became the norm rather than the exception. Any time someone like Whoopi Goldberg could be considered a political spokesperson there is a screw loose somewhere.

In this new understanding the way to effect political change is to show up in mass numbers not to vote, but to shout down anyone who disagrees. I understand! They know that this topsy turvy world is about to come to an end, and the aspect of having to earn their daily bread is overwhelming for these constituents of the food stamp rebellion. Funny thing is, their actions only further galvanized the right, and energized their purpose to follow the job through, and end this circus!

Humor is a powerful psychological tool. I use it. I ain’t even gonna lie to you. When a person is laughing, that very laughter is acceptance of whatever made him laugh in the first place. When you laugh, you laugh at someone, and when you do that, whatever the ruse, you reduce them in your mind. The liberal left has used many comedians to this goal. Just because someone is famous does not make them a political pillar of truth, it just makes them publicized. Add in a little dash of hate, and some left wing ideas, and the ideas become accepted as truth. Then you get those people in the street in Chicago who probably can’t tell you who the Speaker of the House is. Shucks, they probably can’t tell you what the speaker of the house is, and voila, there you have it, the planet of the apes.

Dudes, I’m not being racist, just playing by the rules they set. Under this new understanding, in order to get a president, all we have to do is put more people in the streets than they do. Hey, secret, we don’t have to. Places like Chicago, LA, Washington DC, and Berkley are just cities. There’s a whole country out there that is fed up, and Donald Trump is leading them to a revolution. We can only hope that he has the strength to persevere.

Why don’t the huddled masses, yearning to get fed protest Cruz, or Rubio? Because they aren’t worried about them. They’re politicians. They know under President Cruz it will be business as usual down at the ol’ clinic, and the welfare office. Oh, He’ll rattle his saber, but all hat and no cattle, and after two years he’ll be concentrating on re-election, i.e. mo’ money, mo’ food stamps, and mo’ of the same. That’s why there are no protests. Hey, did that hurt? Lemme tell ya some more.

Rubio. Where did he come from? He has about as much chance of being president as I have Marrying Trump’s daughter, ok? And I like Donald’s daughter. Hey, she’s a girl. How’d you like Bruce Gender as a first “lady?” That’s the wide, wide world of sports your liberal left have given you. The law of the jungle. Peace out!

David Duke

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David Duke endorsed Donald Trump. For the uninformed David was the Grand PooBah of the KKK some years back. He’s from Louisiana, which never helps, and he ended up being a senator of sorts, and apparently has a master’s degree. Whenever you mention the KKK everyone’s hair catches on fire, as opposed to the crosses I suppose. Duke runs a website where he expounds his theory on race. I have watched one of his videos, European Awakening, and I’m going to be up front, I like it. My reasons are simple. With Black Lives Mattering, and Muslim awareness, Hispanic pride, and all the rest, it was refreshing to see statues of Greeks, pretty German girls, and the architecture of Europe. It’s not against the law to be white. That having been said, the video ends with something about our DNA being a spiral to the stars.

Let’s look at racism. First off, we all have it. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, humans tend to be attracted to people who look like them, and more or less suspicious of people who don’t. Dogs and cats do the same thing. It’s called “survival.” Back in the day, when we all lived in caves, the first thing you learned was if you wander into another cave you had a fair to midland chance of being supper. Hey, ice age, times were hard, wooly mammoth run fast! So we have all inherited that DNA. Learn it, live it, love it.

So, you take this trait that is ingrained in our DNA, and tell people who are unhappy with their situation that those folks over there who don’t look like them are the reason they are in the pickle they currently not enjoying. David is very good at this. He pumps up the white pride thing, and then slowly, insidiously blends in a little, shall we call it “suspicion?” Now David doesn’t really go off against the blacks, but he really has a thing for Jews. I’m just a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin, but aren’t the Jews white folks too? I do not believe that there is a huge conspiracy of Jews to take over the world. If they tend to hang together it’s probably because that Kraut back in the 1930’s and 40’s herded them all into ovens with a new recipe for Wienerschnitzel.   And, yeah, yeah, yeah, I just called Hitler a Kraut, but I’m a Kraut, too, so deal with it! There’s also some cat who calls himself “Brother Nathaniel” out there on YouTube who packs it to the Jews on every opportunity.

David Duke was in the Klan. It seemed like the thing to do at the time, he was a new look for the organization, and eventually moved away from it. Now, I’m from Louisiana, David is from Louisiana, and I’m going to tell you something that you won’t believe. I have never seen a Klansman in person in my life. Matter of fact, I’ve never seen a Black Panther either. When you watch the Main Stream Media, you’d think these people are everywhere. Well, they’re not. Back in the ‘30’s they paraded around in sheets and hoods, burned crosses, and waved American flags. Then came the civil rights movement, and those three kids found buried in a levee over in Mississippi. Ok, let’s get real. Don Whomever dumped his enemies in the East River wearing cement overshoes. That’s because he was a gangster just like the so-called Klan of 60’s fame, which has virtually nothing to do with the movement rising up just after the Civil War. It’s just like this “Illuminati” crap. I get a lot of entertainment by watching conspiracy theorists trying to draw a line from some bunch of knights in the twelfth century to a weird stone wall in Georgia and make claims that the Clintons are related to the Bushes, and want to exterminate mankind in order to maintain control of the world.

“This is the business we’ve chosen,” uttered Roth in Godfather II. Well, identification with the Klan is the business David Duke chose. He self-identified with them, and it will follow him for the rest of his life.  People do grow. If we are normal, what we burned in our crazy minds when we were twenty will not fit into our world view when we are sixty. Now for the politics. Remember when I told you about the Trump Southern Strategy? We are seeing numbers filter in that demonstrates that the numbers in tomorrow’s Super Tuesday will lean heavily toward Donald Trump. If he makes a sweep of delegates it will prove out, and remember you heard it here on the Tea Party Tribune first, and not from Alex Jones or, God forbid, Glenn Beck! Guess what people; over ninety percent of southern republicans are white! There is a sprinkling of working, responsible black people who are just as fed up with the democrats as the whites are so you should see the field of contestants narrow considerably by supper on Tuesday.

Why didn’t Donald Trump rebuke the Duke? Because that would derail his Southern Strategy, that’s why. Though they won’t admit it, even rednecks can be politically correct, and there is a whole bunch of people from Tallahassee to Shreveport who pray in David’s direction five times a day, and they are bone tired of white lives not mattering. Oh, remember back in the first of this article that I said that David Duke knows how to capitalize on people who are unhappy for whatever reason? Well, the “Donald” knows how to do that, too. <Wink>

 

Forty Acres and a Mule

“If it comes down between Hillary or Trump, I’m going with Trump because Hilliary is just the same old forty acres and a mule we’ve been promised for years!” (Black janitor at a truck stop in Alabama.) Forty acres and a mule has become a catch phrase since just after the Civil War. Freed slaves held onto that dream, still do, just the forty acres is now HUD Housing, and the mule delivers the meth. The end game was Obama, the realization that blacks had finally come into their own. So why do we still have the same, if not more racial division than we did before him? Because the huddled masses voted in a black white man, that’s why.

There is a segment of the population that is not Watts, not Dr. Ben Carson. There is a group of people between forty and about sixty-five who are black, but black with understanding. They, through a life of striving to meet the mortgage, keep their jobs, and raise kids, have long ago abandoned the carrots the democrats dangle before their eyes, and Donald Trump represents a true populist movement that offers their children a better life far beyond the forty acres and a mule.

In the words of same janitor, “I want a job cleaning the stables, and a share cropping agreement. Mr. Trump will give me that. Not some welfare check that chains me down, but something I can hold onto.” Now, what this all boils down to is in addition to the rural south, Donald Trump is securing a segment of the black vote that will push him even higher. So there you have it. Rural voters, black voters, some major cities, and a host of other areas, all jumping onto the Trump train as Whoopi and associates book their flights for anywhere outside of Trump America.

There is going to be a debate in Texas tonight. By the time this hits the publishers the results will be in, but my guess is that Trump will hand Cruz his face, or portions thereof. At any rate, it will not be the Cruz show. I don’t know the current numbers, but someone told me this morning that Trump has more numbers than Cruz and Rubio put together. Tonight will be a heads up for someone.

The attack on Mr. Trump has taken bizarre twists. Mitt Romney chimed in today suggesting that Trumps past tax returns be looked into. He readily admitted that he didn’t have any definite ideas as to what would might be found, but he was just sure that something was there, ranging from Trump overstating his wealth all the way to lying about donations to vets. That’s called a witch hunt, folks, and losers are real good about starting them.

Another article cited Trumps failed marriages, failed businesses, switching religions, political parties and hair styles. As I read it I realized this bozo had described me! Could it be that life has matured Donald Trump, and his vision for America is exactly what he says it is? Could it be he’s learned from his mistakes, licked his wounds, and went on? Could it be that middle America is looking at him and see themselves? Could it be that we are tired of the polyester candidates the parties churn out election after election? Could it be that not only blacks, but all segments of the country have finally seen past the myth of forty acres and a mule? The very division imposed on us has drawn us all together, and Donald Trump is the inevitable end result.

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That Was The Week That Was

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Week that was this week started slow. I was battling sinus with Claritin and Aleve, and the ol’ brain wasn’t hooking up, but time marches on. I think my sinus came from a Sunday trip to San Antonio, which I detailed in The Battle of the Alamode. This had a funny, yet serious side. The antics if the grandkids were uplifting, unfortunately the United Nations had moved the Alamo to New York City or somewhere so they were deprived of that first visit. No matter, they hadn’t been taught what the building was all about anyway. I went to HEB and bought a copy of the Billy Bob Thornton movie to educate them, but the movie was overruled by “Teen Titans.”

As you know, Judge Scalia died this week. Actually, I dodged this because I couldn’t connect the dots to Texas, but eventually wrote Judge Scalia Saga when I found out that no autopsy was ordered, and Obama was being, well, Obama. Personally, I don’t see any mystery in his death, but hey folks, JFK got his head blown off in front of thousands of people and even he got an autopsy, albeit illegal because his body was spirited to DC so the CIA could set the results.

Once in a blue, blue moon I actually research a subject and try to be informative. The Great Peace was such an effort. I’ve learned that when I research a subject, and use four syllable words I fail miserably. Jus’ sayin’. All the article was saying was we, as a people, have “been there, done that.” ISIS is no crisis, and it really doesn’t matter who is in the White House, the song remains the same.

After the overwhelming success of that article I retreated to Texas subjects again, and wrote right off the top of my head. Texas Has Survived simply laid out facts that make the Yankees mad, and Texans glad. Texas is an easy subject because Norte’s are so bad. They barrel down here by the plane load just to tell us that we don’t know what we’re doing. Enjoy your brisket, gringos!

After a week of non-events, Donald Trump delivered Cruz a profound butt-stomping and I did a political article analyzing the contenders for the nomination, one not contending anymore as the Bush dynasty died nasty. Slobber and Vote wasn’t kind, but it brought things down to a manageable level with good common sense. I particularly like my last paragraph. It was apparent that the Claritin worked, and I could see my laptop again.

So, as we march toward Super Tuesday with anticipation Texas marches toward divorcing America like an unfaithful wife. I am reminded of the Talking Heads song saying, “Same as it ever was,” but liberals need “Start swimming, or they’ll sink like a stone because times they are a changing!” I get a laugh at all the Hollywood types who swear they’ll leave the US if Trump wins. I’m cool with that, just don’t come to Texas! The liberals have held sway for seven and one-half years, and as it draws to a close they are showing their colors. They put Obama in office because he’s black, and now they are trying to follow up by putting Hillary in office because she’s a woman. And they call me a racist!

In a healthy political environment you can disagree. The actual difference between a liberal and a conservative is about ten percent, but the libtards try to make it seem like conservatives are from another planet. That’s what happens when your kids don’t study the Alamo.

America Has Failed Black People

America has failed black people. You might as well start swatting them bees right now, ‘cause it’s gonna be a long day. Lincoln came down in his war of northern aggression, and straightened out the south. Never MIND that he was wearing a cotton shirt when he did it. Never MIND the south was footing most if not all of the bills for his “federal” government, us racist rednecks had to be put in our place, and by God, he was just the man to do it. Now, he destroyed the eco-system, burned down the cities, and made sure the boot was firmly on the neck of the political devices, but he “freed” the slaves.

Lincoln did not begin his quest to free any slaves. The southern states were pulling away from the new “revised” United States, trying to preserve what the founding fathers had given us when Lincoln waited, hoping, that the new Confederacy would fire the first shot, making him the good guy. Well, he got that at Fort Sumter. I’m not going to get into all the logistics of how the north won the war, suffice to say God had no part of it. Mainly, what it involved was the very foundation of the southern government working against any organization of an army that could confront an enemy. While Lincoln could micro-manage his troops via telegraph, Jefferson Davis had to argue his way through every command as his generals all marched to a different drummer. The south did have better railroads, but all that did was deliver the Keystone Cops to the next slaughter.

But, Lincoln freed the slaves! Right? What did he do after that? Went to Ford’s theater and got his head blown off. If the south is so racist how come we don’t have any statues of John Wilkes Booth? The slaves stood up, threw off their shackles, and looked for the American Dream. Only problem was the white folk who freed them were just the same as the white folk they’d been picking cotton for, only they talked faster. The northern plan for freed slaves? Deal with it! Here’s forty acres and a mule. Now go to New York and start a bank. Every once in a blue moon they’d let one or two through the gate so they could wave them around showing that the plan worked. Well, it didn’t!

A couple weeks ago I saw an interesting idea. If we took the 1.5 BILLION up for grabs in the PowerBall, divided it by 300,000,000 (the approximate population of the United States) it would come to 4.33 million dollars for every man, woman, child, and transsexual in the country, and supposedly, there would be no more poverty. If you believe that have I got a bridge for you, and it’s on sale. (Make that the Brooklyn Bridge!) The Master said, “Verily, verily, I say unto you, the poor you shall always have.” If we had distributed that money, one year later we’d have exactly what we have now, only more crime, meth heads, and burning cities. Why would I say that? Because it’s true, that’s why. Poverty is not money, it is a state of mind, and in the case of black people it is a learned state of mind. Just follow the money, and the money always leads back to the same place. Alex Jones calls it “Illuminati.” I call it, “Them that’s got’s get’s!”

The South rocked along for about eighty-five years trying to rebuild their lives. When I was in elementary school in Shreveport, Louisiana, we were still mad at Sherman! The Confederate flag was a symbol of defeat, waved around by fanatics! The Klan did not wave that flag, they waved the flag of the Democratic Party, the Stars and Stripes! By and large, people in the south lived, loved, went to work, and watched Ed Sullivan, just like everybody else. Then, along come Jones, I mean Lyndon Johnson. Johnson’s mother should have sat on him when he was born. The Great Society? I give you Ferguson!

The American understanding of freed slaves was that they were lazy, stupid, and stinky and thank God most of them lived in the south. What to do? Well, you pump up the welfare system, that’ll fix it. Just shell out bare necessities. Not success, not ambition, not the American Dream (that was for selected white folks) just enough beans and cornbread so as the freed slaves didn’t look like Africans begging for change on those commercials we’ve all come to know and love. But, there were “stipulations.”

By 1950 the black family was a central unit. Fathers, who were in the home, worked, children went to schools, yeah, yeah, yeah, they were segregated, and momma cooked and cleaned, and occasionally took in laundry. I have a prejudice. When I went to Queensboro Elementary in Shreveport all the people working in the cafeteria were big, fat black women. The food was fantastic! We didn’t have Michelle’s best, we had fried chicken, liver and onions, homemade rice pudding and lots of milk plain or chocolate. Oh, Huey Long made if free too, by the way. Just thought ya’ll would like to know that. To this day I don’t believe white women can cook!

Now, let’s fine tune the welfare system. Time was when the father approached his church with his hat in his hand, asking for help during hard times. Preacher would smell his breath, know the family, give him “commodities” and help him fix the problem. The American plan? Food stamps, check, HUD housing, and in order to qualify, and/or keep all this the man could not be in the house. Don’t tell me I’m wrong, I was a realtor who managed many HUD apartments and I know what happened if the HUD office found out there was a husband or boyfriend living in the house. My parents lived the last sixteen years of their lives in HUD Housing, fighting cancer and hiding their poodle from the “office men.” Bye Bye dawg!

That’s the rule! Thought Mr. Lincoln freed the slaves. Right? RIGHT? Add two or three generations to a system like that, and you get, Detroit, Ferguson, Watts, and Harlem. Now, let’s explode that myth of all them “niggas” on welfare, shall we. (Told ya’ll them bees would be flying today.) According to the Huffington Post: ” Nationally, most of the people who receive benefits from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program are white. According to 2013 data from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, which administers the program, 40.2 percent of SNAP recipients are white, 25.7 percent are black, 10.3 percent are Hispanic, 2.1 percent are Asian and 1.2 percent are Native American.”

Wow! Imagine that! So why, when CNN runs a clip on welfare they always shows some fat black woman, or some thug? Because it looks so damn good! It feeds the innate racism we all have, that’s why. Slugs like that simply can’t look like me, it has to look like them! We all do it! The fact is we are all in the same boat. There are more “crackers” on welfare than “niggas,” simply because there are more of us than there are of them, and while people like Bill Gates, and Warren Buffet do Sixty Minutes talking about giving half their money away (OMG they’re white!) the rest of us are burning cities, eating beans and hiding our men folk in the closet when the welfare lady comes around, and folks, that’s as simple as I can put it.

We have to fix this, but how? Well, if we cut off all the welfare tomorrow that won’t do it. You’ll just starve a bunch of kids. Obama will just take that money and give it to the “refugees.” Welfare people, all welfare people have been trained for generations to work the system. It’s a job! Democrats won’t fix it, Republicans won’t fix it, we have to. You want to see where Hilliary’s heart and mind are? She landed in Texas last week and six people showed up. She ignored them! If something doesn’t line Hillary and Bill’s pockets they don’t have any time for it. It’s as clear as that. And Obama? Nigga PLEASE! I’m not even gonna go there. When Iran was wearing out camels to blow us all up, and ISIS was cutting enough heads off to build a pile of skulls the size of the UT Tower, he went to Europe and came back with a weather report.

Two men are different, and they are diametrically opposed. Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders. If you vote for Hillary or Jeb Bush you will get exactly what you deserve. You might as well vote for Donald Duck. At least Trump and Sanders will go somewhat a different direction. I wouldn’t care if El Chapo was the president. We have to leave this bar. We don’t have to go home, but we can’t stay here! There won’t be enough time to fix everything in eight years, it took us one hundred and fifty one years to get here, but it’ll be a start. We have to all stand back, stop looking at each other, and look at the real problem. There is an Illuminati. It’s not hidden. Just open your eyes. Two hundred people in America control 1,3 TRILLION dollars, and friends and neighbors, if that’s not an Illuminati I’m not a white boy from Austin!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

That Was The Week That Was

http://www.teapartytribune.com/2016/01/24/that-was-the-week-that-was/That Was The Week That Was

From reflections to events, but that’s the way my week usually goes. Unlike other writers, I don’t just jump on the morning news, even in a big event, I let the story “season,” because first thoughts are never the correct thoughts. What happened is never as important as why it happened, because if we don’t reflect, and learn, then we’ll just keep doing the same thing over and over again, and, as you probably know, that’s the definition of insanity.
I began the week with an idea of the eventual breakup of the American Dream, i.e. set up a government to steal everything, and try to cram it into the Beltway. In “God Bless Americans,” I said, “As we all know, the American government has been overreaching for years, and part of this is because of the artificial definitions of who’s who, and what’s what. Most of the time Federal mandates, and decisions are mandatory, and arbitrary. States make laws, but why? All Uncle Sam has to do is make His law, and the state legislature becomes a complete waste of time. K. C. Massey can carry a gun under Texas law, Sammy says, “No,” K. C. goes to jail. Someone can fire up a joint in Malibu, DEA doesn’t like it, guy gets arrested and has a criminal record. Fundamentalist Mormon wants to marry twin sisters and the Fed can’t seem to find the ink to put one more square on a tax form. See where this is going, folks?”
From there I let old Brother Greed get ahold of me and penned, If I Had Won The Powerball. I ain’t even gonna lie to you. I had that money spent, and I listed all my dreams for the public to see. “If I had won the Powerball. I sat up last night waiting for the Powerball drawing. I didn’t get a single number. You’d think there would be a prize for that! Anyway, like practically every other fool who invested in castles in the air, and purchased a Powerball ticket, I had big plans. I’d like to list them here. They ranged from the sublime to the sub-slime, but here goes.” Well, as you probably figured out, I didn’t win, and had to rush down to pay the light bill the next day.
Politics raised its ugly head next, ugly being the key word. Hey, for the record, I understand why Bill cheated on Hillary, ok. I kept having images of Arkansas politicians, ugly women, and cornbread swirling around in my head and out popped, Dead As Cornbread. “From White Water to Benghazi, Hillary has danced on a razor’s edge for years. Other people in the public eye can commit just a smidgen of what she’s pulled and they’re thrown out of the Army, charged with a crime, end up with public ridicule, and Alex Jones accuses them of leading the New World Order. Hillary could pee on the White House steps and the Liberal Left would say she had found a new way to fix global warming. Am I the only one who thinks there is something wrong with this picture?”
Where Everybody Knows Your Name was next. I have no idea where this idea sprang from, but I suspect it was a bar tab. “Places like this never last, and that’ sad. Just a place where seasoned men come to relax and compare lives. I gain more there than any other place I go. I listen more than I talk, and I learn. These guys view things like ISIS with a very jaundiced eye. And everybody knows your name. I like that.”
That night I listened to my friend, Scott Binsack, reflect on his belief in an Eternal Creator, and wrote, In God We Trust. “God got expelled from school, His commandments from the courthouse square, and from the halls of Congress, and we wonder what ever happened to the country. God is a nice guy. You don’t have to throw him out, just ask Him to leave, and he’ll oblige. And, when He does leave what do you have left? Bruce Gender, Hillary, Obama, and Imam whoever! Children don’t say prayers, or the Pledge of Allegiance in school anymore. They learn how to do drugs, and different sexual preferences, depending on the gender, or cross-gender of the teacher. Welcome to a Godless world!”
I’m very TexCentric, and it showed in Olga vs The American Dream. “This was a big heads up to the third world. While Washington wasn’t invaded, America, for once, had to stand down. We, of course, put the spin on it. We were like Putin recently said. We were like playing chess with a pigeon. We knocked over all the pieces, pooped on the board, and then stomped around like we won. Still, we had the dream. Or rather, Martin Luther King had a dream. Our dream had caught the last train for the coast.”
Seems I was drawn to the past a lot this week. During lunch with some old friends, we got to talking about our high school days, and a few things came to mind. In The Last Picture Show I wrote about things that would make kids in New York, or California would cringe at. “I didn’t have a pickup. I had a ’54 Chevy. The good thing about it was you could get four friends in the trunk when you went to the show. That meant for you, and the girl, it cost about seventy cents to get in. That’s right, one girl, five boys. Hey, we weren’t Muslims, she was safe. Also, if you were lucky she would be an Army brat and have five dollars or so in her purse, which would turn into buttered popcorn for everybody. The way you convinced her to give up the money was a gift, usually flowers, which meant a swing through the graveyard on the way to pick her up. They didn’t show that in the Last Picture Show either!”
By the week’s end I was blowing through pretty good. Still reflecting on Scott’s broadcast, I did a commentary on my first book, Sharon. “The Muslim community has got to come to the realization that the volatile section of Radical Islam is so dangerous to the rest of the world that they, the “good” Muslims need to handle it, or we, the rest of humanity will have to handle it for them.”
I was flying so high that I began to generate “doubles,” by this time. When I get an idea I just write it, no waiting for later. After listening to a Trump speech I resurrected Little Red Riding Republican with a nice 2016 update. “Well, that’s where Little Red Riding Republican comes in. She had been raised in the wisdom handed down from generation to generation. She had eyes of blue, and flaxen hair that fell down around her shoulders. She would take long walks in the country, and one day, during one of these walks she became lost and a figure appeared out of thin air. It was a black knight!”
And, last, but certainly not least, Black Lives Don’t Matter! Actually, I’ve toyed with this title for months, but I just couldn’t take the edge off enough. When someone came back with ALL Lives Matter, I thought to myself, “Heck, why don’t we just join hands and sing, “We Shall Overcome?” Finally, I came up with a perfect second line. For the record, Black Lives Matter is the epitome of Liberal Stupidity. You simply have to have the guts to put it out there. Everybody knows movements like this are stupid, and the originators laugh all the way to the bank. Unfortunately for them I write for the Tea Party, not the Pot Party! That’s why they call me Bill the Butcher! “Black lives don’t matter! My life matters! In the words of Billy Joe Shaver, “When you have no way to go you’d better know I’m gonna get my share of mine.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a racist. More than that, I’m a Texan. Texas wasn’t built on a food stamp. America has evolved into a welfare state. In Texas we have a thing called a “51% sign.” Now, it’s supposed to refer to the amount of food vs alcohol that forbids the carrying of a gun within an establishment. In America it is the percentage of citizens working every day, as opposed to those lining up at the welfare office for their daily bread.”
Sunday is a day of rest. Well, maybe for some, but for me it’s a day of reflection. They don’t rest, so I don’t rest. I have been called, A Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin, and that’s good, because when the libtards pounce on me I can always say, “Hey! I told you I was stupid from the start.” Have a blessed week, and keep looking for America. It’s somewhere out there.

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

Black Lives Don’t Matter

Black lives don’t matter! My life matters! In the words of Billy Joe Shaver, “When you have no way to go you’d better know I’m gonna get my share of mine.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a racist. More than that, I’m a Texan. Texas wasn’t built on a food stamp. America has evolved into a welfare state. In Texas we have a thing called a “51% sign.” Now, it’s supposed to refer to the amount of food vs alcohol that forbids the carrying of a gun within an establishment. In America it is the percentage of citizens working every day, as opposed to those lining up at the welfare office for their daily bread.
I chuckle when I see black lives mattering. Things like, burn their neighborhoods down in tribute to Fat Albert getting his head blown off for assaulting a police officer, setting up a teenage hottie in a yellow bikini (nice contrast there) to flop on the ground for CNN, and now, blocking a main road so working people can’t pay the bill for black lives mattering. And, if someone like me points these things out then we’re “racist!” Well, ok, I’m just a Texas racist. I’m tired of having to duck and dodge that term to please a bunch of people who follow whatever sound bite came out of their ObamaPhones this morning down at the crack house. You may swat them bees now.
Let me ask you, how did Rome fall? It fell when the Romans stopped throwing arrows at invaders of the Empire and started throwing bread to the welfare babies in the stands of the Coliseum! When the Emperor became more concerned with the non-productive elements than the people who built, and sustained the nation Rome began the slippery slide to oblivion. So it will be with America.
Let me clue you people in. America is broke! Two weeks ago we owed nineteen trillion, and in two more weeks we’ll owe twenty-one trillion, and the huddled masses have no idea of the enormity of those numbers, nor do they care, so long as they have a Big Mac, a pipe, and an ObamaPhone. They have lots of free time to clog of streets, burn buildings and give us all those videos that we all love to pass around on Facebook, demonstrating that the English language is digressing into a Neanderthal level.
Does this hurt your feelings? Does this make you want to call up the “View” and listen to those cackle babble heads in a box tell you how wonderful liberal thought is, and how Whoopie is the most brilliant philosopher ever? Does it make you want to hang up a poster of Bruce Gender? You better pull your heads out of “Mr. Butt,” and get this right, or you all need to learn to speak Chinese! The world will not tolerate you for much longer. When they come the people who have supported this carnival will grudgingly support whomever comes in and takes it over. Oh, they’ll line the rest up in front of a pit and shoot them in their well-fed bellies.
Black lives won’t be worth a plug nickel on that day. And our new masters won’t even be coy about it. This is the way of the world, friends. Life has never been easy. All the fancy togas, and naked girls didn’t matter a bit when the Visigoths invited themselves to the party in 476 AD. Texas will fare better. We still have an economy, something the Obamanation is sadly lacking, but hey, up there, Black Lives Matter. Bon Appetit!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

I’m Contraversial

I’m controversial. I suppose that goes without saying. I actually do not have a stated course, or agenda, other than Texas Freedom. Sometimes I will research an article for days before it jells and I know which way I’m going. Good case in point was this weekend where I watched dozens of documentaries, reviewed hundreds of news stories and read the works of Josephus. In addition to that I reviewed James Randi, Aron Ra, and a couple of Rabbis I know over in Jerusalem, all to boil it all down to six hundred words on this morning’s posting. That’s another of my tricks. If I can’t make my point in six hundred words I have to research more.
I fly high above the subject. Trying not to get tied down with useless argument, or commentary, I go for the human understanding we all have. That’s why I call myself a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin. If a waitress can’t understand what I’m trying to say, I rewrite. I scatter shot, i.e. one day I’ll address the ISIS situation, and the next day will write about my first kiss from Pam Burns back in high school. If there is a common thread in my work I’ve yet to see it. Maybe fifty years after I’m dead some professor will figure me out.
I handle criticism well. Well, I handle it well if the person criticizing me is of note. If it’s some former in-law who can’t compose a grocery list I get pissed off. But if it’s a national talk show host I consider that on the same level as a kiss from Ivana Trump. This simple fact of the matter is that if you only write about polka dots and pink shoe laces no one will ever read you. You never know what will set someone off. I do not deliberately try to offend. On a one to one conversation I never discuss religion. I’ve tried. Always ends with someone sending me to hell.
I’m developing as a writer. At sixty-four I’ve just about got this thing figured out. There’s a girl out in Nolanville who screens my stuff for grammatical errors. Consequently, I make sure I include one in every article. Also, I put one mistake in every one. A little tease to see if someone catches it. I’m crazy like that. I’m a free-lance writer, in that there is no money in blogging, or at least it has eluded me. But, that’s no surprise. I couldn’t sell a condom in a whorehouse. Sales is not my calling.
Sometimes a subject will evade me. This morning I had all intentions of dissecting “Clock Boy.” Even had the picture ready. Then, I looked at this little nerdy kid and thought, “Gonna give him a break.” He’s beginning to figure out his parents are whacked. Kid wants to come back to Texas. I can’t hate that. Buy that boy a Taco. Beef taco!
I hate abortion, black lives mattering, Bruce Gender and Vodka Martinis. I love Gin Martinis, fine cigars, and any girl stupid enough to hang around me. I believe in God, but not religion. Religion is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable. The reason I believe in God is we still can’t make a leaf. I listened to hours of atheists this weekend trying to find out how to make a leaf, and those idiots didn’t even have a formula for a dry martini.
So, until assassination, I will continue to write. Entertain both myself and the public. Having said that you’ll note I’ve reached six hundred words.

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt