On St. Patrick’s Day, Joe Biden Says He’s “Really Not Irish” Because He’s Not a Drunk and Doesn’t Have Relatives in Jail
We all know and love the stories about how President Joe Biden was so racially tolerant as a young’un, he allowed black youths at the swimming pool where he claimed to be a lifeguard to marvel at his hairy legs. That pool is also where he claims to have met and befriended a notorious black gangster known as “Corn Pop.”
If there’s one thing that Joe Biden wants you to know, it’s that he sho’nuff do love himself some blacks.
His own kinsmen? Well, he’s not too keen on them. In February he tried to tell a group of assembled blacks that “I may be a white boy, but I’m not stupid.”
Biden has apparently never read The Bell Curve.
On Friday, which was St. Patrick’s Day, the octogenarian Chief Executive, who is allegedly five-eighths Irish, belittled his own heritage by dabbling in the worst stereotypes about the ill-fated Potato Negroes of the British Isles.
To his credit, Biden had rebuffed an offer to hold a joint press conference with Leo Varadkar, Ireland’s current leader. If you were thinking, “Gee, ‘Varadkar’ doesn’t sound like an Irish surname,” you’d be right: His father was born in Bombay. This means that Ireland is currently ruled by the son of a dot-not-feather Indian, as is England. London’s current mayor is the son of a Pakistani-born Muslim. As much as they’re trying to hide this whole “Great Replacement” thing, they’re really not trying to hide it at all, are they?
Choice nuggets from Biden’s St. Patrick’s Day speech, which was delivered to anxious scattered titters amid the audience:
I’ve been to Ireland many times, but not to actually look up, to find my actual family members. And there are so many — and they actually weren’t in jail. . . . I’m the only Irishman you ever met, though, who’s never had a drink, so I’m okay. I’m really not Irish.
It reminds of the time that Barack Obama honored Black History Month by claiming that he’s not really black because he never smoked crack or raped a white woman.
While it’s technically true that Biden’s immediate family members are not in jail, it doesn’t seem to be from a lack of trying. His son Hunter is suspected of racketeering, soliciting prostitution, embezzlement, and illegal drug use. His niece Caroline pleaded guilty to a driving under the influence charge, but got no jail time. His brother Frank was involved in a 1999 car crash that left someone dead, but Frankie Boy somehow evaded involuntary manslaughter charges.
Luck of the Irish!
Black-Run Newark, New Jersey Falls for “Sister City” Scam About Non-Existent Hindu Nation
Newark is both the largest, and possibly the worst, city in the grossly over-polluted state of New Jersey. Camden or Trenton might give it a run for its money in the shithole department. I have no idea why these cities are so bad, but I’m certain that it has nothing to do with demographics, as a quick click on the hyperlinks I’ve embedded on each city’s name would easily demonstrate.
Newark has never recovered from the 1967 riots, but that’s typically the case for any city where the noble black citizens stage an uprising; the “uprising” only winds up dragging the city down. The reason for this is, of course, white supremacy.
The town went out of its way to embarrass itself on January 12 when it hosted a public ceremony to honor the “Hindu nation” of Kailasa as a “sister city,” despite the fact that Kailasa’s “official” website describes itself as a nation rather than a city. The site — you should check it out, it’s good for about a thousand laughs — says the nation of Kailasa is home to an “ancient enlightened civilization, the great cosmic borderless Hindu nation.”
Even more problematic is the fact that Kailasa doesn’t even exist. It appears to be the sinister brainchild of Swami Nithyananda, who refers to himself as a god and has been on the lam from India since 2019 after being charged with child abduction and rape.
During a January 12 ceremony honoring the new sister city/non-existent nation partnership at City Hall, Newark Mayor Ras Baraka solemnly intoned, “I pray that our relationship helps us to understand cultural, social, and political development and improves the lives of everybody in both places.”
Six days later, someone in Newark’s government figured out it was all a hoax. Press Secretary Susan Garofalo announced that as soon as “we learned about the circumstances surrounding Kailasa, the City of Newark immediately took action and rescinded the sister city agreement. . . . Based on deception, the ceremony was groundless and void.”
Obviously learning nothing from the experience, Garofalo doubled down on the “diversity is our strength, anyway” mumbo-jumbo:
Although this was a regrettable incident, the City of Newark remains committed to partnering with people from diverse cultures in order to enrich each other with connectivity, support, and mutual respect.
From far away in the real nation of India, a pundit mocked the Newark government’s embarrassing credulity:
The Newark stunt illustrates how easy it is for groups to manipulate municipal and state bodies (in the U.S.), and take advantage of their lack of international sophistication to unwittingly make them appear to confer legitimacy (on unworthy groups).
The story about Newark’s recent flub hit the international press last week.
Wait just a cotton-pickin’ minute — Newark’s mayor since 2014 is named Ras Baraka? Where have I heard the name “Baraka” before? Perish the thought, but he couldn’t possibly be the son of Amiri Baraka, born in Newark as Everett Leroy Jones and who later rechristened himself as LeRoi Jones, a seethingly anti-white Beat poet who re-rechristened himself in the late 1960s as Amiri Baraka?
Why, yes — of course he could! He’s the proud son of what is perhaps the most murderously anti-white black author in history!
From the LeRoi Jones poem “Black Dada Nihilismus”:
Rape the white girls. Rape
their fathers. Cut the mothers’ throats.
Here’s some spicy dialogue from the 1964 LeRoi Jones play Dutchman, which was made into a 1967 British film. In it, a black male named Clay berates a white woman named Lulu:
I could murder you now. Such a tiny ugly throat. I could squeeze it flat and watch you turn blue, on a humble. For dullkicks [sic] and all these weak-faced ofays squatting around here, staring over their papers at me. Murder them too. . . . It takes no great effort. For what? To kill you soft idiots? You don’t understand anything but luxury.
Not anti-white enough for you? Here’s another soliloquy from Clay:
You great liberated whore! You fuck some black man, and right away you’re an expert on black people. What a lotta shit that is. . . . Up your ass, feeble-minded ofay! Up your ass. . . . Just let me bleed you, you loud whore. . . . And the only thing that would cure the neurosis would be your murder. . . . Murder. Just Murder! Would make us all sane. . . . They’ll murder you, and have very rational explanations. Very much like your own. They’ll cut your throats, and drag you out to the edge of your cities so the flesh can fall away from your bones, in sanitary isolation.
Clay doesn’t seem like a very nice man.
From Amiri Baraka’s poem “Black Art”:
. . . Black poems to
smear on girdlemamma mulatto bitches. whose brains are red jelly. stuck between ‘lizabeth taylor’s toes. Stinking
whores! We want poems that kill.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys and take their weapons leaving them dead with tongues pulled out and sent to Ireland . . .
Finally, here’s a passage from Amiri Baraka’s 1983 The Autobiography of LeRoi Jones:
A woman asked me in all earnestness, couldn’t any whites help? I said, you can help by dying. You are a cancer. You can help the world’s people with your death.
You no longer need to wonder any longer about why Newark is the major embarrassment of a state that is largely considered to be a national joke. It’s because its residents are dumb and hateful enough to elect as its mayor — three fucking times — the son of someone who wrote that garbage.
The Lingering Problem of White Supremacy in the National Basketball Association
Apart from rape, murder, and basically all areas of crime, basketball is one of the few areas in which black Americans excel, so I could understand why they’d feel a tad nervy when a white man threatens their current hegemony over a game invented by a white Canadian man back in 1891.
According to an estimate from 2021, the National Basketball Association was 73.2% black and 16.8% white, with the remaining 10% comprised of a sprinkling of Hispanics, Asians, and assorted other mud-puppies.
The NBA was founded in 1946 but didn’t start doling out an award for the regular-season Most Valuable Player (MVP) until ten years later. In the sport’s history, only three players have been voted MVP three years in a row: Wilt Chamberlain, Bill Russell, and Larry Bird. Of the three, only Larry Bird is white, but you don’t hear me crying about anti-white racial discrimination in pro basketball.
For the last two seasons, the MVP award was given to another white man, the Serbian-born Nikola “The Joker” Jokić (pronounced “YOKE-itch”), a six-foot-ten-inch center for the Denver Nuggets.
With the current 82-game regular season only about 11 games from completion as of this writing, Jokić is considered the frontrunner for a third straight MVP trophy, which has several Professional Negroes sorely vexed.
Former NBA player Kendrick Perkins — a fat, bearded, sour-pussed man who looks like his farts could kill a horse — recently suggested on ESPN that white privilege is the reason that Jokić may snag his third consecutive MVP award:
When it comes down to guys winning MVPs since 1990, it’s only three guys that won the MVP that wasn’t top 10 in scoring. Do you know who those three guys were? Steve Nash, Jokić, and Dirk Nowitzki. What do those guys have in common? I’ll let it sit there and marinate; you think about it.
It’s true that Jokić is currently 17th in points scored per game. But he is third in rebounds and second in assists, which are two other categories that are crucial to determining a player’s value. And when he won the MVP award last year, he finished sixth in points per game.
Jokić’s stats make a mockery of Perkins’, who finished his career averaging a measly 5.4 points, 5.8 rebounds, and only one assist per game. And Perkins’s cherry-picking of stats was pointed out by J. J. Redick, a retired white hoopster who piled up 12.8 points, two rebounds, and two assists per game over his career. Reddick zeroed in on the fact that that Perkins focused on the award “since 1990,” because it was an easy way to sidestep the fact that Earvin “Magic” Johnson — who won three MVP awards starting in 1987 and ending in 1990 — finished 24th, 18th, and 26th in points per game while still snagging the prize.
The last NBA player to win three MVP awards in a row was “Magic” Johnson’s bitter rival and now dear friend, the Great White Larry Bird.
This is a handy table I constructed using my nonpareil statistical acumen and dazzling Microsoft Word skills. It lists the per-game stats for Larry Bird for his three-year consecutive run as league MVP, Magic Johnson when he won the MVP award three years out of four, and Nikola Jokić during his last two MVP seasons, combined with his current stats so far this season with 11 games remaining:
Jokić beats Bird and Johnson in two out of three categories, and he only lost to Bird in points per game by a tenth of a point. Johnson beats both of them in assists by a mile but lags far behind them both in points scored and rebounding. Both Bird and Johnson are towering NBA legends. That makes a pretty good case that Jokić deserves his MVP status — a case that only a surly descendant of slaves with potentially deadly flatulence would bother to deny.
Speaking of churlish Pundits of Color with a perpetual chip on their shoulders, the scowling mulatto who uses the annoying mononym Touré addressed the controversy surrounding Jokić, particularly the interracial spat between Kendrick Perkins and J. J. Redick:
That day on ESPN, Redick, who’s white, got very upset and said to Perkins, if he’s going to call MVP voters racist, he’d better have evidence. Perkins didn’t know how to respond to that but I do: If there’s zero racial bias in the NBA MVP voting, then that would be pretty much the only place in America where there’s no racial bias.
Naturally, Touré didn’t bother to provide one sliver of “evidence” proving anti-black “bias” anywhere in American culture, media, government, or sports. Perhaps he would have found it too exhausting to do the research. If that’s the case, he only reinforces the prevalent stereotypes about his brethren being lazy and shiftless.
Attempting to dip his toes in the notoriously black-unfriendly category of math, Touré attempted to prove anti-black bias in MVP voting by belching out the following paragraph:
Also, over the last 40 years, going back to the days of Bird, white men have won the MVP award nine times. The NBA is about 17% white and 72% Black but white players have been judged to be the most important player in the league almost 23% of the time.
Okay, first off, no one’s voting for the most “important” player, only the most “valuable” player for a team. As much as I hate to correct uppity blacks, Touré forced my hand. But 23 divided by 17 suggests a mere 35% statistical overrepresentation of whites as MVP compared to their numbers in the NBA.
If Touré is willing, I’d like to discuss with him the 400% statistical overrepresentation of blacks in homicide statistics and the even more egregious statistical underrepresentation of blacks in people who score over 140 in IQ tests.
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