The Hippies, 50 Years Later: From “Make Love, Not War” to “Make War, Not Hate”
Full disclosure: This isn’t my war.
I didn’t approve of this war. No one even consulted me about it, which frankly felt like a bit of a snub. And I’m certainly not a pacifist. I’m not against this new war because I hate to see human beings getting killed — quite the opposite, I think more of them need to be killed, and quickly — but because I don’t see the end result being good for me on any possible level.
But just like comedian Patton Oswalt once said that the worst thing about the Bill Cosby rape scandal was the hypocrisy, the worst thing about the fact that this planet may not even exist in one year won’t be the extinction of the human race and the eternal loss of everything we’ve ever loved and achieved. No, once more, it will be the hypocrisy.
A couple months ago with that virus thing, some people at least pretended to care about saving human lives. But now Putin is Hitler, and we absolutely hated Hitler and would have loved to kill him, even when he was a tiny baby. By extension, all Russians are Nazis, and it’s never wrong to shoot Nazis, because Nazi lives don’t matter, at least not like black lives do.
Imagine suddenly caring about Ukrainians, when you’ve never even thought about them once in your life, because your social-media feed commanded you to care about them.
They didn’t seem to care what Russians did to Ukrainians back in the early 1930s, did they? In fact, these types denied the Holodomor was happening while it was happening, and even while they were there to see it was actually happening with their own lying eyes. Russia was completely blameless to them back then.
These creatures, whatever they’re being called this year, are the cultural, moral, and political heirs of the hippies who had “war is not healthy for children and other living things” posters on their bedroom walls, but whether they are directly screaming for Russian blood to flow in the streets or are simply falling in line with the boycotts and sanctions and bellicose shit-talking, their behavior will only inflame rather than defuse the situation. If Putin is actually as malevolent and unhinged as they say he is, does it make sense to taunt him like that?
They feel intense, pulsating, invigorating moral clarity about all this.
They can sleep at night knowing that frightened citizens huddling in bomb shelters somewhere in Kiev can check Google Earth to see that their house in America has a lawn sign showing unabashed support for the Ukrainian people and their noble cause.
The same ones who scoffed at the Red Scare now believe all of the US government hype about Russia.
I won’t even bother to check, but I’m pretty sure that every member of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young is gung-ho about absolutely smashing the Russkis this time around. They believed the hype about Putin that they refused to believe about Stalin or Khrushchev or Mao.
Hate’s okay when you’re hating the hater. As long as they can kill the hateful notions inside your head, they have no qualms about splitting it wide open like a cantaloupe.
How easy it is to whip up popular sentiment toward a Grand Guignol bloodlust so long as you can convince them it’s for the right cause.
They supported the NO NUKES movement to the point where they released a nauseating and overlong live triple album about it in 1979, and now they’re supporting the sort of belligerence toward an active war participant that could set off a nuclear war
They were for free speech until they weren’t.
They used to place flowers in gun barrels; now they’re eager to send guns, tanks, and bombs to Ukraine.
They screamed against the war back in the 1960s because they got college deferments, and now they’re screaming in favor of the war because they know they’ll never have to fight.
They want a world without borders. Except for Ukraine. Keep the border around Ukraine.
Hate has no home here, and by extension, it has no home in Ukraine, even if we have to go in with tanks and bombs and bioweapons.
Putin must be stopped because he is currently showering Ukraine with AIDS-sniffing missiles. But when all the dust settles and all the Russian corpses are tossed onto rusty garbage trucks, Ukrainian kindergarteners will finally be free to opt for state-funded gender-reassignment surgery.
None of those who are screaming for Putin’s head are going to lift a finger to kill him.
Married men on Twitter — and I swear I’ve seen this but couldn’t locate the original posts — saying they want to watch while Zelensky fucks their wives. One of them even said he’d grab Zelensky’s hips to help him thrust in more deeply.
At least our armed forces are inclusive and tolerant.
We want to defund the police and use the money to send tanks to Ukraine.
They are still stupidly confident, like every American since 1865, that whether there’s a war or not, it’ll be somewhere else and can’t possibly come to their backyard.
And, despite #MeToo and the “male gaze” and all that rigmarole, if hundreds of thousands of Russian women wind up getting raped when the tide turns and the good guys win the war, we’ll shed about as many tears as we did for the millions of German women who got raped by invading Russian soldiers during the Second World War.
The most we can hope for is that this will be an environmentally friendly global conflagration.
You don’t need to make sense when you’re shitfaced drunk on your own righteousness.
Simply to be passive-aggressive, I will heretofore refer to all Ukrainian soldiers as “insurrectionists.”
Death of the Dollar, Then Death of the West?
As I type, I can feel the power being sucked out of the West and heading eastward.
I’m no economist, but my grinding guts tell me Americans are on the cusp of unprecedented and heretofore unimaginable levels of poverty.
As an article in Financial Times notes, during the Crimean War (1854-1856) the British and Russian governments kept paying their financial debts to one another even while their soldiers were blasting one another to shreds in Ukraine.
These days, defaulting on debts, freezing assets, issuing economic sanctions, and undermining currencies are being used as weapons of war. And this is where the United States, with its $30-trillion public debt and another $100 trillion or so in unfunded pensions and liabilities, this drunk-on-empire country that assured the rubes that things would be fine as we sold off our industrial base to become a service-oriented economy and distracted everyone with “racism” in order to smash cultures and maximize global profits, needs to tiptoe and not wake the sleeping giant.
Biden’s economic sanctions against Russia essentially prohibit them from accessing dollar reserves.
But what if Putin and a US-weary rest of the world says, “We don’t need your steenking dollars?”
We see how well economic sanctions worked against Japan and Germany in the years leading up to the Second World War.
Freezing Russia’s foreign reserves was the economic equivalent of dropping a hydrogen bomb on Moscow.
Saudi Arabia and China — which is the world’s largest oil consumer — are now in negotiations to conduct oil deals in Chinese yuan rather than US dollars.
India and Russia are now working a deal where they trade exclusively in rupees and rubles.
There’s no good reason for China or Russia to ever trade in US dollars again, especially not with one another.
The West currently dominates the world’s currency system, with the US dollar and the euro combining to rule three-quarters of global payments.
Even a partial shift toward other global reserve currencies would be catastrophic for the US dollar, propped up as it is on nothing more than paper and ink.
Endless foreign wars and runaway currency devaluation. Where has this ever turned out well?
Maybe not much will come of this tidy little war. Or maybe it will mark the flashpoint of a global power realignment that’s been a long time coming.
Ron Paul — remember him, and remember how, around ten years ago, people from across the political spectrum started making fun of libertarians and stopped talking about taxes and the debt? — says that the US should be “packing up and coming home” rather than offering aid to Ukraine:
We will have less clout as issuing the reserve currency of the world, and it’s already started in that direction. It never deserved much credit for being a reserve currency. It was just sort of accidental about how we came out of World War II; we weren’t bombed to smithereens, we still had a lot of wealth, we had all the gold, we had the directions, we controlled the IMF and the World Bank, we established NATO and . . . we’ve been running our empire that way.
All wars are trade wars. And it’s starting to feel as if the US traded its future away a long time ago.
Anti-Tranny Activist: “I’m Not a Vet, but I Know What a Dog Is”
Last Thursday, Lia Thomas — who until 2019 was competing as a man for the University of Pennsylvania’s swim team — won the 500-yard freestyle to become the first tranny in the National Collegiate Athletic Association’s (NCAA) history to be crowned champion. Thomas has been smashing swimming records ever since undergoing testosterone-reduction treatment and breaking the glass hymen of women’s water sports.
Looking for a picture of Thomas, I ran across this photo and thought, “Oh, for the love of Pete, how does anyone delude themselves that this is a woman rather than a man?”, only to realize that it was a photo of Taylor Ruck, a biological woman who bested the tranny swimmer on the succeeding evening during a meet in Atlanta.
Perhaps gender is more fluid than I’d ever thought possible.
Here is a picture of Lia Thomas, former male swimmer and now male swimmer posing as a female swimmer. He looks sort of what I imagine Bob Saget would have looked like after a rigorous Brazilian wax from the neck down. Outside the event in Atlanta where an actual female swimmer who possibly looks more like a biological male than does the male swimmer who’s now posing as a female swimmer, anti-trans campaigner Kellie-Jay Keen — who is a woman and looks like one — got into an argument with a man that allegedly went something like this:
Keen: Is he the same as the other girls in the pool?
Man: Everybody is different.
Keen: No. Are you saying he doesn’t have male organs? I’m a woman — that is not a woman. Do you have ovaries? I’m a woman, and that is not a woman.
Man: Let me ask you, are you a biologist?
Keen: Oh, my God — don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a vet, but I know what a dog is.
It’s such a brilliant metaphor that seems to immediately burst the delusion of the trans bubble — that is, until I realized that by thinking that picture of a female swimmer was actually of a man, I mistook a dog for a veterinarian.
Beautiful Young Black Queen Loses Her Life Over a Damned Bowling Ball
You can tell by her name alone that LaKevia Jackson was a strong, young, intelligent, empowered black female from the inner city with the potential to cure cancer and end world hunger. Sure, at age 31, seemingly her only accomplishment had been to squat down and squirt out a baby that had been implanted in her by a rapper named Young Thug about 14 years ago when they were both young and foolish, and before he could basically have any bitch he wanted — but she was in the midst of getting her life together, I swear.
Last Thursday night, however, this beautiful young milk-chocolate rose was shot down in the parking lot of the Metro Fun Center, an Atlanta skating rink, bowling alley, and general entertainment venue for the city’s restless and brooding black hordes.
Apparently, she’d engaged in a verbal dispute over a bowling ball with an unnamed male assailant. After apparently being disrespected, or at least feeling disrespected, the male lurked in the parking lot for 20 minutes before Miss LaKevia came out and shot her dead.
According to Atlanta homicide detective Ralph Woolfolk: “This is truly an atrocity. A young lady has lost her life over a bowling ball.”
LaKevia’s mother Sherina sobbed to a reporter:
I didn’t know that was going to be the last time I talked to my baby. I could hear her over the phone crying and screaming then her best friend said she’s not breathing! I lost my baby all over a bowling ball.
As a writer for The Young, Black and Fabulous so potently phrased it:
Absolutely disgusting. There is nothing that could have been said or done to warrant waiting to shoot someone after an argument over a bowling ball. Nothing.
A bowling ball. A damned bowling bowl. A bowling ball can be replaced, but not a strong and vibrant black mother. I’m shaking my damn head. This world has lost its damned mind.
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