Everybody Is Acting A Damned Fool Everywhere! International, Canadian And Québec Nonsense Du Jour

If you are in a state of inner peace, or zen, or whatever-the-fuck, you might want to skip this one. The whinge machine is all wound up and a-ready to ROAR!

Coleridge said something along the lines of "Water! Water! Everywhere! But not a single drop to drink!" I say "Eejits! Eejits! Everywhere! But not a single 2 x 4 to hit them up the head with!"

Let me start international, then retrograde to local.

Last week, it was pointed out to me that Christina Hoff Sommers was whinging on and on and on and on about how Antifa represents the end of times. I have no love for Antifa. As far as I am concerned, they are not substantially different from the "Tommy Robinson" yobos who assaulted a police medic. The difference between Antifa and "Tommy Robinson" supporters is the difference between Coca-Cola and Pepsi. Retrograding local, Antifa are no different than Gabriel Nadeau-Dubois's hoodlums, who did the following where I live.

That being said, Christina Hoff Sommers, unlike Sargon, Andy Warski and the rest of YouTubes mopery who were not even a nasty thought up their pappy's trews in the 1970's, but, like me and Pat Buchanan, was there in the the 1970's. She knows better than to call Antifa anything other than a bunch of punks who would have been laughed at, who would have been the prison bitches of REALterrorists like the Black Liberation Army, FALN, and the Weather Underground. The thing is, like Buchanan, she has selective amnesia or selective memory, or both. You see, enter the term "1968" in the search function of Buchanan's blog, and, among the others, you find one entry, dated 12, July 2016 (i.e. well before the election was decided), where Buchanan says the following.

Put me down as agreeing with the president. For when a real powder keg blew in the ’60s, I was there. And this is not it.

Many post-November 2016 search results of the term "1968," however, read along the lines of the following.

We are another country now, another people. The unity we knew in the Eisenhower-Kennedy era is gone. 1968 was the great divide. 1968 was the turning point.

And

This conflict in loyalties among NFL players mirrors that of our country, as America divides and our society disintegrates over issues of morality, patriotism, race and culture.

We have been here before. At the Mexico City Olympics of 1968, gold and bronze medal-winning sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos each raised a black-gloved fist as a sign of solidarity with Black America, and not the nation they were sent to represent.

Buchanan is changing his story. He is changing his version of events, discarding the old and truthful one for the new and false one that better suits his quasi-blind obedience to the current tenant of 1600 Pennsylvania, who Buchanan, like Sommers, sees as the last hope for his America.

In the interests of disclosure, I fully agree with Pat Buchanan's ideas on foreignand tradepolicy. I despise his open sectarianism and ethnonationalism as much as I despise the fact that he is, by his open admission, a self-serving rat who disses his now-dead friends Richard Nixon and William F. Buckley Jr.

Christina Hoff Sommers was born in 1950. That means, unlike Sargon and Andy Warski, but very much like Buchanan, she remembers the Black Liberation Army, famous for murdering several police officers, warrants for which are still outstanding. Like Pat Buchanan, she is old enough to remember FALN bombing Fraunces Tavern, killing four and wounding many more. Like Pat Buchanan, she remembers the Weather Underground detonating 25 bombs in a space of a year and murdering two police Constables and a security guard during a robbery. On the charitable assumption that she is right in the head and not suffering from memory loss, she and Buchanan are deliberately distorting what happened in the 1960's, 1970's and 1980's to make what is going on today seem like the end of times to ignorant noobs like Sargon and Andy Warski who uncritically parrot her every syllable and fart.

It is as if large numbers of people stopped thinking after November 2016. A case in point is legendary NYPD Detective Ralph Friedman, who has penned a highly readable, sometimes precisely accurate and sometimes full of bullshit memoir. Friedman quite accurately, and with a fine detail, recounts what life was like during the 1970's in Fort Apache. Before I go on, the term "Fort Apache" itself separates noobs like Pat Buchanan and Fred Reed who make like New York is a horrible place, despite never having lived there, from New Yorkers who have balls enough not to shit their pants every time a mouse farts, the latter being something pussies like Buchanan and Reed do whenever they are in New York. Buchanan, Reed and non-New Yorkers in general think "Fort Apache" is some 1940's filim that takes place out West, starring Shirley Temple, Pedro Armendáriz, John Wayne and Henry Fonda, involving single action revolvers. New Yorkers, on the other hand, know that Fort Apache is the 41st Precinct, where single-action revolvers are rarely used.

So, Friedman. Interesting guy, and I respect him as a cop. Unlike Buchanan, Reed and Sommers, he clearly remembers what the 1970's were like. He details these memories. Then he makes asinine remarks like "unlike today when police can be shot anywhere for no reason," and "The Black Liberation Army were New York City's first incidence of domestic terrorism." The latter statement is bovine scatology in its purest form. The Black Hand regularly terrorised and extorted from fellow Italian immigrants--as if the latter did not have enough from "fellow" Catholics from Ireland telling their kids to "Murder the dirty Italians!"--in the turn of the century. On 16, September 1920, 38 people died and over a hundred were wounded in a bombing in New York's financial district, and, in the 1940's and 1950's, disgruntled electricity plant worker George Metesky terrorised the city with several bombs before being nicked. Friedman was a teenager in 1967. I can give him a mulligan on not knowing about the Black Hand and the 1920 bombing, since that was well before his time. But, if he was a teenager in 1967, he either was old enough, or old enough to have heard of Metesky's bombings. This makes his statement that the BLA constituted "the first domestic terrorist incident in New York City" ill-informed at best, and disingenuous at worst.

The point of the preceding first part of this entry is as follows. Do not believe disingenuous people with an agenda (that agenda being that they regard the current tenant of 1600 Pennsylvania to be the last hope for the America of their imagination) when they say 2018 is the end of times. Like Buchanan, Reed and Sommers, I was there in the late 1960's, the 1970's and early 1980's. 2018 has Antifa who, like Tommy Robinson supporters, are violent scumbags. But Antifa is NOWHERE NEAR as vicious and deadly as were the BLA, FALN and the Weather Underground.

Don't take my word for it. Simply compare how many bombings and murders of police officers Antifa has committed since 2016 with the same number of bombings and murders carried out by the BLA, FALN and the Weather Underground in one year.

And here is another bit of data that might reorient your skull if you think 2017-2018 is the end of times. Exactly one more person died in the 1977 Summer of Sam blackout riots in the Bronx than did in Charlottesville in 2017.

Yes, yes, I know I am talking to the wall. If people were inclined to read something other than social media--something like, say, a BOOK--they would know these things and laugh off Sommers, Buchanan and Reed as disingenuous, pretentious, fucks of the type of drunk you see spinning an obvious line of bullshit before suckers and people looking for free entertainment in a bar. But I had to get this out there.

So, now, let me retrograde locally, first to Canada, then to Québec.

Canada. Trudeau and Nazi-cover-upper Foreign Minister Freeland were all like the Skip Homeier "Hunt Bromley" character in The Gunfighter when they a-huffed and a-puffed, and a-slammed retaliatory tariffs on America. This pumped them up so full of bravado, made them so full of themselves (as if they were not already), that they thought they could pull that shit with Saudi Arabia. It was almost comical to see the attempt at a shit-eating grin on Freeland's face when she found out that the Saudis are big fans of In Living Colour, as in "Homey don't play that!" Freeland ran her piehole to Saudi Arabia? Guess what. Saudi Arabia cut diplomatic relations and business ties with Canada, posing a $132 million threat to the Province of Alberta alone after having a negative impact on the Canadian dollar. Compared to all their bluster in reaction to America, Trudeau and Freeland have been mute little kept bitches in reaction to Saudi Arabia playing by Big Boys' Rules. "We do not have a single friend" whinged one Canadian apparatchik. It would almost make for extremely hilarious comedy.

Except that, as a result of Freeland running her piehole, Saudi medical students are withdrawing from Canada, harming patient care at local hospitals. Trudeau and Freeland have as much of a right to freedom of speech as anyone else, which means that they can play social justice jihadist as much as they want to. But, unlike Anita Sarkeesian and Gail Dines, Trudeau and Freeland have national leadership responsibilities. Their thoroughly reckless and irresponsible pushing of their personal views on Saudi Arabia has now led to sick Canadians being harmed. This makes Trudeau and Freeland as much irresponsible assholes as Pat Buchanan, Fred Reed and Christina Hoff Sommers.

So, having dealt with the Canadian nonsense du jour, let me retrograde--that be the verb KC-135 tankers use to mean "haul ass back to base"--to Québec. The theme here will be--as it is in almost every one of my entries on Québec--how "Je me souviens de mes origines françaises" ("I remember my French origins") is false advertising. Last week, you see, a sitting Member of the Natiional Assembly (Québec's version of Albany in New York, Holyrood in Scotland and Stormont in Ulster) was turfed by his leader in exchange for new blood. Below is a video of how this self-proclaimed "Frenchman" handled himself.

Oh, my gawd, what a fucking crybaby of a pussy! No sense of pride, no sense of dignity. Certainly, nothing that can AT ALL be related to the dictionary definition of "French." REALFrench, REALFrenchmen, you see, handle things like changes in government personnel in the excerpt between 11.58 and 12.20 in the video below.

Straight to the point. Complete, but succinct and sob-free, sentences. Yes, the video immediately above is from the Vichy era in France. Someone who does not live in Québec may think this is unfair comparison. It is not. There is, you see, the very well documented--as in by pur laine, unilingual Québecois historians--long-standing Québecois sympathy for the Axis Powers.

I rip into Québecois a lot. That does not mean I am sympathetic to the "anglophone community" of Québc, something I was recently reminded of when reading an entry in Noah Sidel's blog. Noah Sidel is someone I have found interesting since I heard him on the radio last year. We do not agree politicially. He once ran for a party headed by this idiot who rips off Ayn Rand, then proceeds to do just like Kevin O'Leary and tarnish Rand's good name by preaching her objectivism whilst channeling his nastiest Gordon Gekko sneers. That being said, Noah Sidel is still interesting. He is an English-speaker living in Québec, but he is not particularly fond of the "Anglophone community" either. In the subtitle of his blog, he says "No angryphones allowed."

Anglophones/Angryphones do not speak French as their first language. That distinction apart, they are just as lame as Gaspesians. Of all the prominent Angryphone leaders of the past three decades, not a one of them is, to my knowledge a member of the Loyal Orange Institution of Canada. If you ask them what their favourite football team is, they will, more likely than not, say the Alouettes. If you then roll your eyes in an understandably extremely exasperated manner and retort "No! REALfootball!", there is maybe a fifty-fifty chance that a light will click in the dim void behind their eyes and between their ears, and they will say "Ah! The Impact." That is the best you can hope for from "Angryphones"/the bulk of the Québec Anglophone "community." They say they are persecuted by the Gaspesian majority, and they are entirely correct in saying that. Mention The Famous or Linfield FC to them, and the vast majority of them give you a blank stare, indicating that basic brain functions are not their forte since they are incapable of recognising what is the bare minimum of their duty as loyal subjects of Her Majesty.