Imagine existing as a distinct racial group on a continent for 400 years. Now imagine that your group’s greatest collective “achievement” is being freed from slavery — not rebelling against your slaveowners and freeing yourselves, but walking into freedom atop a red carpet of 600,000 or so bloody cracker corpses that reputedly died in the service of either freeing you or keeping you enslaved.
You are imagining Juneteenth, a sloppy portmanteau of “June” and “nineteenth,” a federal holiday based around the fiction that America’s last enslaved blacks were freed on June 19, 1865 in Galveston, Texas. On that fateful day, Union General Gordon Granger ordered the enforcement of the by-then-dead Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation — which was proclaimed on January 1, 1863, but news traveled slowly those days — so that a quarter-million or so sweaty and nappy slaves yearning for freedom in the Texas heat were now free to become happy and productive American citizens just like the rest of us.
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These weren’t the last black slaves to be freed in America, though. Black slaves were still pickin’ cotton and singin’ “Michael, Row the Boat Ashore” in Kentucky and Delaware for another six months, until December 1865. Choctaw and Chickasaw Indians still held black slaves in what is now the state of Oklahoma all the way until the summer of 1866, but I’ve never heard of a single black person who celebrates “Chickteenth.”
If you really think that freeing all the black slaves was an idea worth celebrating and you sincerely wanted to pick a sensible date, it should be December 6, 1865 — the day on which the 13th Amendment abolished slavery throughout the United States. That was the date on which black Americans were finally free to twerk. Free to rape. Free to misspell. Free to murder. Free to riot. Free to whine.
Celebrating Juneteenth has been a black American folk custom ever since they stopped being three-fifths of a person and became five-thirds of the country’s problems.
The idea of Juneteenth as a state-sanctioned holiday first took root in Texas, where it was officially known as “Emancipation Day.” In 1938, back when it was still acceptable to refer to darkies as “Negroes,” Texas Governor James Allred proclaimed:
Whereas, the Negroes in the State of Texas observe June 19 as the official day for the celebration of Emancipation from slavery. . . .
Whereas, since that time, Texas Negroes have observed this day with suitable holiday ceremony. . . .
NOW, THEREFORE, I, JAMES V. ALLRED, Governor of the State of Texas, do set aside and proclaim the day . . . for observance of EMANCIPATION DAY . . . in Texas, and do urge all members of the Negro race in Texas to observe the day in a manner appropriate to its importance to them.
By the end of the twentieth century, three more states — Florida, Oklahoma, and for some reason, Minnesota — recognized June 19 as either an official holiday or a day of observance. Over the next 20 years, every other state except for South Dakota — bless its soul — also commemorated or observed Juneteenth.
While running for reelection in 2020, Donald Trump proposed making Juneteenth a national holiday as part of his ill-advised “Platinum Plan” to appease the rioting Mau Maus who’d gone verklempt that summer over the hilariously tragic loss of George Floyd.
On June 17, 2021, cadaverous Chief Executive Joe Biden signed the Juneteenth National Independence Day Act into law, making it the first federal holiday since Martin Luther King, Jr. Day became another paid day off for shiftless federal workers way back in 1986. So the last two federal holidays were meant to appease blacks and act as Anti-Riot Insurance.
In his comments at the White House signing, Biden managed to spit up these words from of his dry, blistered, pruny mouth:
Juneteenth marks both the long, hard night of slavery and subjugation, and a promise of a brighter morning to come. This is a day of profound — in my view — profound weight and profound power.
A day in which we remember the moral stain, the terrible toll that slavery took on the country and continues to take — what I’ve long called “America’s original sin.”

You can buy Jim Goad’s Whiteness: The Original Sin here.
It’s also clearly a sin that will never be forgiven.
In 2021, black Americans commemorated the first federally-recognized Juneteenth by shooting one another at Juneteenth get-togethers in North Carolina, South Carolina, Louisiana, Pennsylvania, and Indiana. But the capstone of that year’s celebrations was when an Oakland Twerk Mob prevented an emergency medical technicians’ truck from providing help to seven people who’d been injured by gunfire.
Last year’s Juneteenth was one for the record books. It saw 103 shootings, including 19 mass shootings, from coast to coast and left 13 aspirant string theorists dead in Chicago alone.
But unless we’re lurching toward a trend of severely underreporting violent crime — which is always a possibility — this Juneteenth appeared to be much less violent than last year’s.
Try as I may, I couldn’t find much besides a non-life-threatening shooting near a Juneteenth hootenanny in Norfolk and a celebratory mass shooting during a Juneteenth music festival last weekend in Round Rock, Texas that took the lives of two black women and injured 14 others, including children.
According to Round Rock Police Chief Alan Banks — who, like apparently all American police chiefs these days, is black:
At approximately 10:50 PM, an altercation broke out between two groups. During that altercation, someone produced a gun and began to fire. Multiple victims were hit. . . .
They were actually folks that were there enjoying the concert. Old Saddler Park is an open field with a stage. It occurred near the vendor area away from the stage.
The two victims, I can tell you, were not part of the altercation.
So having an event like this, where we’re here to celebrate, and celebrate such an occasion as Juneteenth, and to come together as a community is a terrific monumental event for us. . . . It breaks your heart for a family that was coming out to enjoy their evening and now their life is forever changed as a result of somebody who could care less about somebody else’s life. And that’s so disappointing.
What’s most disappointing to me — even more than the lost lives and wanton bloodshed — is that Chief Banks doesn’t know that the proper term is “couldn’t care less.” If you could care less, that implies that you care a little.
Banks described the shooter as:
- Black male
- 5 feet, 7 inches tall
- Thin build
- 19-20 years old
- Hair in short dreads
- Last seen wearing a white hoodie
Texas Governor Greg Abbott is offering a $20,000 reward for information leading to the shooter’s arrest. Although it’s likely that many “innocent” witnesses could identify him, at the moment it appears that the surviving blacks are more in thrall to the ’hood’s “no snitches” rule than they are to snapping up that tantalizing $20K being dangled before their paws.
Then, five minutes after handing in my original draft to this article, I learned that at least one person was killed and others were shot and stabbed as Juneteenth festivities in Oakland somehow, out of nowhere and against all expectations, turned violent.
The other night the missus and I watched the 1965 Western comedy Cat Ballou, which I hadn’t seen since I was four years old. Throughout the movie, the plot is pushed along by two singing minstrels: a short, fat paleface whose screen name was Stubby Kaye (real name Bernard Shalom Kotzin) and Nat King Cole, the famous crooner who died shortly after filming. Nat King Cole — now there was a nice black man. Knew his place, didn’t act uppity, and smiled on cue. Jack Benny’s sidekick Eddie “Rochester” Anderson was another nice black man from back in the days when they smiled and tipped their hats and said “Yessir.” They were better when we called them “Negroes” and “coloreds.” They were much more tolerable when they knew their place and minded their manners. I liked them a lot more when they were obedient and frightened.
But with all of their unearned pride, modern black Americans are the skid marks on the clean white adult diapers of the body politic. They’re really Junetesting my patience.

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25 comments
For yesterday’s holy day, a San Francisco neighborhood offered an outdoor showing of a film about an lgbtq black rapper who calls himheritself Li’l Nas X, followed by a “curated” (sic) drag show featuring The Reparations.
C-C readers will be happy to know that hesheit made a “country rap” song in 2019 and that it broke records for longevity on the Billboard Hot 100 list. Cultural enrichment: no White sector is safe.
Unfortunately, however, the event was out of step with the larger Afro communitah in that there was, alas, no violence. Perhaps next year.
The irony of it all seems like only us privileged, desk-jockey office whites get the paid day off. As I don’t think Popeye’s chicken will be instantiating a national shutdowm for cultural observance/employee appreciation day even in this case. Thanks blacks! Reparations in our favor. It was all worth it now…
“ Celebrating Juneteenth has been a black American folk custom ever since they stopped being three-fifths of a person and became five-thirds of the country’s problems.”
Over the years I have laughed at many lines from Jim, but this may be the funniest yet.
ditto
Ditto
A tip of the hat to the city of Akron, Ohio for disappointing all of their would be Juneteenth participants by canceling all scheduled festivities. Why? Because of the mass shooting the prior week. It was a Sailer’s law mass shooting with only one fatality out of 27 shot. But the local news did treat us to a lot of blacks expressing their displeasure.
It’s funny that the vast majority of blacks didn’t know what Juneteenth was before biden made it a holiday(me neither), and now that it’s made a holiday, they’re all celebrating over it. Goes to show how elite opinion and action shape civilization(or unshape as the case may be). This piece had some of goad’s most powerful writing.
I’ve never understood why they give blacks a holiday. A holiday from what? Don’t they need jobs to get a holiday from? If shooting and causing mayhem is their job, they don’t take time off on Juneteenth.
The fifth paragraph. Comedy gold.
To all the editors, as I am inquiring about being a payed member: may I pay on Entropy the monthly donation for the payed membership? I must say that I am uncomfortable putting my routing number on the internet. Would cash by mail be better?
Email [email protected] and we will work it out.
Thank you very much Dr. Johnson! I received an email in the order our messages. Thank you so much!
I first heard of Jumeteemff a few years ago when I was visiting an elderly friend who was living at an Urban League apartment complex that apparently had some ex-cons living there on probation. They knew of it because the new Negro holiday was a big thing in the prisons, a little break from Pride Month.
🙂
On June 19th of 2019, the last quasi-normal year in what has now become a terrible country, my son and I were at a cafeteria or food court at the University of Chicago. A nervously smiling goodwhite goodgirl studentess in front of us in the checkout line wished the fat, hapless, Cheeto-munching ghetto negress “manning” the cash register a happy Juneteenth in the vain hope of scoring brownie points with yet another brown pet. The podgy black looked confused, even lost. “Happy what?” she asked, almost aggressively. “I ain’t never heard of no Joomteenf.”
Two days ago, in the same awful neighborhood, I saw similar-looking negresses with enormously fat asses and ugly braids tied to their frizzed-out, nappy heads gettin they grill on, gettin they drank on, gettin they smoke on—this time, though, they were all wearing one manner of another of Juneteenth T-shirts. Unlike in 1865, a certain kind of news these days does travel fast.
June is annoying. You got yer gays on the TV telling us in our own living rooms that we’re full of hate. Seems a surfeit of gay males tongue-kissing passionately on the telly lately in a way that would be totally inappropriate for commercial television if they were male and female. You got yer mulignans shooting each other to celebrate their emancipation which they can’t spell. Now free to do that crazy hand jive. Free to bring da funk. While the twerk certainly has its merits, that’s the only thing your race managed to invent? That, and the cotton gin? Which was invented to get out of work? Free to buy Michael Jackson memorabilia with your campaign contributions as Jesse Jackson’s son, Cubby or Scooter Jackson, did? Free to profit from Hurricane Katrina like that something “Nagin” mayor did? As Fats Domino swims for his life? The redskins, who enjoyed slavery as much as the next ethnic group, skeeved the shines and wouldn’t even use them for slaves and wouldn’t even scalp them, which is really saying something. There’s sone nonsense about the Mardis Gras Indians, black miscreants in New Orleans dressing up like Philly’s Mummers (not “Indians”) on Mardis Gras, and doing so because the Injuns helped escaping slaves escape. Please. They would have buried them up to their necks next to a mound of fire ants and poured honey on their heads in a heartbeat. No building Machu Picchu for our Native Americans. Or “freeing” anyone. We do that.
Jim’s link sez “8,000 to 10,000” blacks were enslaved by tribes. Sketchy Wikipedia sez “less than 3 percent” of tribes held other people as slaves. I think the latter is spin. How would they possibly know? Taking people in raids was de rigueur and they were also used to barter with for beads and trinkets. Apaches and Comanches wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot pole and they were the coolest Indians.
Ain’t that a shame how they looted Fats Domino’s gold records and awards? All kidding aside, it really is a sad but predictable testament to the depths some kneegrows will sink to, to victimize an absolute legend from their hometown for what probably amounted to enough for a dime bag of weed.
Also, the wife and I pretty much blacklist Youtube for the girls the entire month of June because we never know who or what will end up in the commercials during “pride” month.
Mardi Gras Indian music is fun and catchy but you’re listening along contentedly, minding your own business, tapping your toe, maybe doing the Shing-A-Ling or the Philly Dog and the lyrics seep in. Aye caramba! Much like their rapping counterparts, it’s all about committing mayhem on their fellow Mardis Gras Indians. Historically, it was a day of violence and “settling scores.” Mighty kootie fiyo. Jockomo feena hey.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n643nLCbMoE
The accompanying illustration is excellent with one flaw: there’s not a mudshark in sight.
I wish coons would go for shooting lessons; they squeeze off 100s of rounds and when it’s over there are a handful with only superficial wounds.
Thank you, Jim, for mentioning ‘could NOT care less’ – drives me to despair having to hear the common clay getting this wrong most of the time.
Listening to the usual speeches from the usual white traitors in govt they always say something to the effect: we have come so far but we still have a lot more to do – but then never say what that more is!!! What could it possibly be – they have given so much to the kneeguards.
Despite All the Progress We’ve Made, There Is Still, for Some Strange Reason, a Ridiculous Amount of Work to Be Done
Thanks Jim and please forgive my sad memory. That was a most informative essay. There are far too many grifters making monies out of ‘racism’ to acknowledge that there is no such thing any more.
“now that you bring it up, I realize I can well afford to care less about this” — I could care less.
I’m personally in the camp that believes both formulations to be correct.
As a fan of the Beach Boys music, especially all of “Pet Sounds”, I recently discovered that Brian Wilson just turned 82 on June 20. So out of curiosity I did a search of “famous June 19 birthdays”…. well you should see the litany of genetic trash cast into our plane of existence on that fateful date; except for Ann Wilson of Heart, possibly Dirk Nowitzki (gotta have some respect for White b-ballers I guess) and one of my favorite jews, Moe Howard.
Once again, Mr. Goad, your penchant for wordsmithing us through another colorful episode of “Mordecai Levy’s Big Top Circus & Zoo World” is like a fusion of Revilo Oliver and Mark Twain with a tinge of working class Philly Irish grit. You are truly one of a kind. Thank you.
Two quick observations on “Juneteenth”:
It seems a cruel jest that the newest negro holiday is in such proximity to fathers’ day, considering the 75+% bastardy rate amongst blacks.
If white people need something to celebrate on June 19, I suggest it is the anniversary of the electrocution of communist spies Julius and Ethen Rosenberg at Sing Sing prison on June 19, 1953. We could call it “Fry-a-Commie Day.” There are so many more that deserve the same fate.
Fabulous work by Mr. Jim Goad — an excellent post! With his trademark razor-sharp black humor (ha!), he underscores the scourge represented by the celebrants of this ridiculous “holiday”.
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