When Black Politicians Wear Blackface
Although it seems like a thousand years ago, it was only in late March when a female-to-male aspiring transsexual blasted her way into a Christian school in Nashville and shot a half-dozen people dead.
Unfortunately for the Official News Cycle, five of those victims were white.
On a per-capita basis, black Tennesseans are eight times more likely to die from gun violence than white residents of the Volunteer State. And despite what the Official News Cycle would have you believe, roughly 90% of black homicide victims are killed by other blacks. So basically, every year you have countless black people in Tennessee shooting one another stone-cold dead, but it took a white tranny killing six Christians — all but one of whom was white — to get black Tennessee politicians so worked-up about “gun violence” that they stormed the State Capitol with bullhorns, a-hootin’ and a-hollerin’ and a-shuckin’ and a-jivin’ and a-screechin’ and a-demandin’ justice and peace and equity and an end to white supremacy.
Weird, isn’t it? Could it have anything to do with the possibility that the white tranny who shot up a school full of white Christians was an Inconvenient Shooter and that the Official News Cyclists needed to rapidly deflect attention somewhere else?
Republicans in the Tennessee state legislature voted to expel two of the more audibly obnoxious pols who engaged in the attempted insurrection, both of them black and both of them named Justin. A white female Democrat who also participated in the ruckus escaped expulsion by one vote, which is all that the darkies needed to conclude that she was spared due to Huwite Supreemonology rather than the possibility that she wasn’t as disruptive as the Two Black Justins.
Kamala Harris flew down to Tennessee and posed for photo ops that showed her hugging Justin Pearson. Joe Biden invited “The Tennessee Three,” including the white woman, to the White House. To my knowledge, no similar gestures were made to the family members of those who were killed in the Nashville Tranny Massacre.
The New York Times — mostly because, well, it’s The New York Times — covered the sudden rise of the Two Justins with all of the fawning subtlety of a two-fisted handjob:
Mr. Pearson and Mr. Jones emerged from an era of protests sparked by the murders of African American people, often at the hands of the police, and the Black Lives Matter approach of demands for dramatic change. Both tie their activism to their Christian faith: Mr. Jones is a divinity student at Vanderbilt University. Mr. Pearson is the son of a pastor. . . .
Mr. Pearson, 28, evokes the image of a 1960s activist in both appearance and manner. His browline glasses recall Malcolm X, while his Afro and dashiki — which he wears to the Capitol at times — bring to mind a young Rev. Jesse L. Jackson. . . .
Mr. Jones, the theology student, favors blazers and wears his hair pulled back into a small, neat pony tail. He recently seized the opportunity to sing “We Shall Overcome” with Joan Baez at the Nashville airport. . . .
Pardon me while I scan eBay to see if I can order a vintage retro 1960s barf bag.
What the Times did not mention is that back in 2016, Pearson was a clean-cut, soft-spoken (and apparently lighter-skinned) moderate who transmogrified into a shuckin’ and jivin’ and bobbin’ and weavin’ and stickin’ and movin’ caricature of a radical black activist whose overwrought speechifyin’ and giant Chia Pet Afro seems straight out of a Damon Wayans skit from In Living Color.
It also failed to mention that Jones, newborn Prophet of Justice, assaulted a driver with a traffic cone in 2020. Neither did it note that Jones was also spotted standing atop a Nashville police car during the Summer of Floyd. To its credit, the Times acknowledged that Jones “was repeatedly arrested and once temporarily banned from the Capitol for throwing a cup of liquid at a Republican leader in 2019.”
These are your new heroes, black Americans and the white wage slaves who must deal with them at big-box merchandise retail stores. Which brings me to the next item . . .
Ohio Woman Seeks Reparations at Target Store, Gets Punched in the Face Instead
The word “reparations” derives from the Latin root word reparāre, meaning “to repair.” As I explained nearly a decade ago, but apparently have to keep repeating until the concept nestles snugly inside the collective unconscious, the only reparations plan that would make sense would be to return black Americans to their motherland, where those perpetual ingrates would live much shorter lives under extremely harsher conditions than they currently enjoy in America.
But apparently Karen Ivery, a black Ohio resident with suspiciously fat arms who looks way older than her 38 years, is not a regular reader of Taki’s Mag.
Ivery was convicted last week of disorderly conduct and will be forced to spend an agonizing day in jail and pay a draconian $110 fine in connection with an incident that happened last October at a Target store in Blue Ash, Ohio.
In case you were unaware — I was, until I started researching this article — Target’s website has a “Black Beyond Measure” page where they encourage customers to “Buy Black” and “Discover 8 Black-owned women brands.” They openly suck up to blacks and do all kinds of submissive racial pandering that would never be acceptable for a mega-corporation to do to whites in this nation of ours that is undeniably the weakest white-supremacist society in world history.
But apparently this, as well as the fact that she can get far fatter in Ohio than she could ever dream of getting in Liberia — where her carcass could feed a whole village for a month — didn’t constitute a sufficient amount of reparations for Ms. Ivery.
As a white female store manager told police, Ivery approached her last October with over $1,000 in groceries — in Somalia, the yearly per-capita income is only $430 — and began pushing her backwards, demanding that she at least be given some of the goods for free because she hadn’t had a “privileged life” like the manager had, and thus deserved “reparations.”
“I put my hands on her shoulders, attempting to keep some space between us,” the woman told police, “but her body was physically touching mine.”
When a white security guard named Zach Cotter intervened, Ivery got all up in his face and walked him backwards all the way into his office, where he finally hauled off and knocked her down with a single punch. In case you missed that punch the first time I linked it only a few words ago, here it is again. And again.
After knocking Ivery to the floor, Cotter promptly called police. When they arrived, he admitted to the punch and also explained that he had no other choice because Ivery was stampeding toward him with the blunt ferocity of an African water buffalo — but he didn’t say exactly that; the whole clause beginning with “stampeding” and ending in “buffalo” was my own literary embellishment.
Police gave Ivery a chance to explain, and she rambled on thusly:
We all know money has not treated people equally. . . . The system is rigged against people doing the right thing. . . . [I wanted to] have a larger conversation about how money works, and how the provision works, and how it’s been working in our community in a very wrong way. . . . I decided to take a stand. This is my Rosa Parks moment.
But the police weren’t buying it. They placed her in handcuffs, hauled her off to jail, and now she’s a convicted criminal, and I feel better than I have in weeks.
I Never Thought We’d See Black Axe Murderers in Vermont, But Here We Are
My father was born in Enosburg Falls, Vermont in 1920, a mere eight miles from the Canadian border. Of an estimated 352,428 people living in the Green Mountain State that year, there were a scant 144 “Negro” women registered as voters back then.
Even that number seems shockingly high to me, because we frequently visited Vermont during my youth, and I have nothing but entirely clean and wholesome memories of the heartbreakingly innocent-seeming local yokels with their folksy ways and their maple sugar candy. I spent an entire summer up there around age eight at my Uncle Juney’s house in Windsor, Vermont, which was only a half-mile walk down to what at the time was the oldest covered bridge in the United States. I don’t recall ever seeing anyone of Negroidal complexion in Vermont. We would have heard about it, and it would have been a scandal.
The last time I visited Vermont was in 1978, the same year that Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream was founded in Burlington and three years before Bernie Sanders was elected Burlington’s mayor. In a way, I’m glad I haven’t been back, because it’ll never be the same.
In 2020, a century after my father’s birth and 41 years after he died, the state’s black-female population had increased nearly a hundredfold.
Last week, in the tiny town of Brattleboro, Vermont, one of those black females allegedly murdered a white woman with an axe and a knife. Whereas the Goads I knew in Vermont were named Alton, Leon, Carlton, Walter, Pam, Ila, Scott, and Todd, the accused axe-murderer bears the unmistakably bliggety-black name of Zaaina Mahvish-Jammeh.
She was, but of course, homeless, and the citizens of Vermont were, but of course, benevolent and foolish enough to provide her shelter in a facility with 30 beds. The perp, 38, is accused of hacking and stabbing 36-year-old Leah Rosin-Pritchard to death.
Ms. Mahvish-Jammeh apparently moved to Vermont from Plattsburgh, New York sometime between 2020 and 2022. In May of 2020, she told an NBC affiliate in Plattsburgh that
[t]he reason why I support [COVID masks] is because I’m into masks in my lifestyles, in my personal lifestyle. I like to get along with it. Especially if it’s handmade, I think it’s really cute.
In 2022, after crossing over Lake Champlain from Upstate New York into Vermont — I remember swimming in the lake many summers as a wee sapling — Jammeh told a local newspaper that she liked Vermont and felt safe there.
But apparently she did not reciprocate the safe vibes to the local Vermonters:
“It was a fucking brutal savage fucking murder,” an unnamed 66-year-old male resident of the shelter told the Brattleboro Informer. “I haven’t been able to sleep. Because every time I close my eyes, I see that shit. . . . I heard screaming. I come down the stairs. I look around right by where the dining room table is, and there’s a body on the floor, and I couldn’t even tell who it was. That’s how badly smashed the face was. . . . [Jammeh] looked up at me and then went down to beat [the victim] a couple more times in the face. . . . [She] has severe mental health problems, and they put her in a house that’s not equipped for that, and the staff aren’t trained for that. I told them two months ago this was going to happen, and they didn’t listen. It was just a matter of time before she grabbed a butcher knife. The only thing I was wrong about was her choice of weapon. It should have never happened, and now a good person is dead.”
Yeah, and now a formerly good state has gone bad.
Black Statistician Falsifies Data to Make Reality Look More Racist
Since blacks are great at crime, one might be tempted to think that they’d also be adept at criminology, but that would be a fatally flawed assumption.
Florida State University criminology professor Eric Stewart is obese, just like two out of every five adult black males in America. This would probably work against him if he were attempting to flee the scene of a crime, but since he’s been employed at a cushy desk job for the last 16 years, being a lard-ass has apparently not impeded him from being a liar. Fat people lie. They lie all the time. I don’t think I’ve ever met a fat person who doesn’t lie, especially a black one.
At some point in March, Stewart “abruptly left his $190,000-a-year position following allegations that he fudged data on racism studies during his 16-year tenure.”
Justin Pickett is a white researcher who’d collaborated with Stewart and two other criminologists on a 2011 paper about whether demographic surges among Hispanic and black populations were correlated with increasing public sentiment urging longer prison sentences for these groups. In July of 2019, Pickett openly petitioned the editors of Criminology to retract their paper. Although the original study stated that there was a correlation between demographic increases and public sentiment in favor of longer sentences, Pickett said that their original, unaltered data found no such connections. He said he’d found several “data irregularities” in the 2011 article and others by Stewart and his co-authors. Regarding the 2011 paper, he said it reported 1,184 respondents, when the survey company had “confirmed that it sent us only 500 respondents.” And although the survey initially covered 326 counties, the resulting paper winnowed down results to only 91 counties. “The article reports many other findings that do not exist in the data,” Pickett added.
Pickett claims that for months, the university ignored his requests to examine the data, and they only did after complaints were lodged against four more of Stewart’s research papers. And when the university finally appointed a three-person panel to examine the complaints, two of the panelists, as luck would have it, happened to be Stewart’s co-authors on the studies. Even luckier, at least for Stewart, was the fact that the panel claimed to find insufficient evidence of fraud. Regardless, all five of the studies were retracted.
Responding to Pickett’s claims in typical obese black man fashion, Stewart said that the allegations “essentially lynched me and my academic character.”
A sixth study of Stewart’s was retracted in June of 2020, and the university launched a new investigation against him. Of the six retracted studies, five of them had focused on race.
“There’s a huge monetary incentive to falsify data and there’s no accountability,” Pickett told the Florida Standard. “If you do this, the probability you’ll get caught is so, so low.” He cited a 2019 scandal in which Duke University paid $112.5 million “to settle claims by a whistleblower that a former research technician knowingly submitted fake data in applications for federal research grants.”
The whereabouts of Eric Stewart, race-hustling alleged data-falsifier, are currently unknown, but it wouldn’t be entirely unreasonable to suspect he’s blowing part of his $190,000 yearly salary on hookers and cocaine.
Springtime Comes to Chicago
“In the Spring, a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love,” wrote Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
Because Rupert Murdoch’s FOX media empire is a white-supremacist enterprise, it has been on the forefront of noticing the teen problem that has plagued America for the past few generations. According to FOX 32 Chicago [emphasis added]:
A large crowd of teens gathered at 31st Street Beach Friday night, which led to chaotic, tense moments and a shooting nearby. . . . About 300 to 400 kids gathered at the beach, and at times, were running in all different directions. . . . Multiple times throughout the night, there was something in the middle of the large crowd that made the group run away from the beach. The teens were seen yelling and running in all different directions, but as soon as it got chaotic, the group would come back and gather together.
The following night, also according to FOX 32 Chicago:
Hundreds of teenagers flooded into Downtown Chicago on Saturday night, smashing car windows, trying to get into Millennium Park, and prompting a major police response. At least one person in a car was attacked. . . . A woman whose car was smashed by people jumping on the windshield said her husband was beaten as he sat in the driver’s seat. He’s been taken to Northwestern Memorial Hospital. . . . Video posted on social media shows people standing on top of a CTA bus and dancing. . . . This is the second time this weekend that a group of rowdy teenagers has prompted a police response. On Friday night, hundreds of kids went to 31st Avenue Beach, and a 14-year-old was shot.
Although Twitter seems to get a bad rap in many circles, and often for good reason, its “reporters” appear far more willing than major news outlets to actually provide footage of what these “kids” and “teenagers” actually look like.
It’s only mid-April. I have a queasy feeling that it’s going to be a long, weird summer — even longer and weirder than the Summer of Floyd — and unless there’s a complete clampdown on citizen journalists’ ability to film things and post them online, Americans may finally realize that Abraham Lincoln was wrong to issue the Emancipation Proclamation that set all these rambunctious teens free.
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