The Week’s Most Gayish, Grayish, and May-Dayish Headlines
FORTY ACRES FOR A FOOL
William Darity, a Duke University “professor of economics,” declared last week that the U.S. should shell out $14 trillion for blacks as reparations for slavery.
Darity, who’s black himself, believes this won’t be a problem, because the money will come from the government, not taxpayers.
You see why “professor of economics” is in scare quotes. Apparently Darity’s econ teacher was the “Obama’s stash” woman from 2011.
And where did Darity make his announcement? The Dr. Phil show. And in so doing, he managed the impossible: He replaced the “Cash Me Outside” girl as the dumbest human to ever appear on that program.
Professor “Cash Me Southside” stated that the payout will be a modern version of the government’s Civil War-era pledge to give freed slaves “40 acres and a mule.”
Which raises an intriguing possibility. Many Americans don’t know this, but the “40 acres” pledge, which originated with a high-level meeting between General Sherman, Secretary of War Stanton, and twenty black leaders from Georgia (the meeting was cut short when the White House kitchen served cold “French-mannered fried potatoes” and all hell broke loose), included a provision long-lost to history: “In the settlements hereafter to be established, no white person whatever, unless military officers and soldiers detailed for duty, will be permitted to reside.”
Yep, the 40 acres settlements were to be fully segregated reservations (or “colonies,” as they were referred to in the plan) where America’s blacks would live separate from whites.
Well, President Biden, you might just be able to sell this thing to whites after all.
A hundred and fifty years before rightists started saying “national divorce,” blacks were advocating the same thing.
What would “The United Acres of Black America” look like? It would have an army with no sense of aim, and every fast-food restaurant would have a moat, natural protection against the clientele.
ROCKET MAN (OVERBOARD)
Fly me to the moon,
Let me play among the stars,
The bastard’s rocket ships explode more than his electric cars!
Poor Elon Musk. His plan to build a rocket so he can return to his faraway home planet populated by pale-skinned, beady-eyed autists with perennially blank expressions (it’s the same planet Zuckerberg’s from) hit another snag when the unmanned ship blew up real good just four minutes after takeoff.
Musk took a break from his current hobby of flooding Twitter with Holocaust denial while banning race-realist intellectuals like Jarred Taylor to gaze upward at the sky, a tiny tear appearing from his eye (turns out it was just the coolant his race uses for blood to protect them from Earth temperatures).
While Musk announced that the test wasn’t really a failure, because the rocket did “stay up for four minutes” (thus beating Matthew Perry’s record in bed), the FAA was not as pleased. The doomed Blowstromo scattered massive chunks of debris and a sea of toxic dust over the town of Port Isabel, Texas.
Port Isabel is a major processing hub for illegal immigrants, and it’s been reported that rocket debris blocking the town’s roads has made it difficult for the newcomers to drink and drive.
“How can I drive drunk when there’s metal falling everywhere, ese?” one illegal told the AP. “I was just about to hit this woman when a big piece of rocket do it for me.”
So indeed, Musk’s ship made contact with aliens. Just not the ones he’d intended.
Some of the detritus also landed over Laguna Atascosa National Wildlife Refuge in Los Fresnos. Fortunately, the sanctuary has no birds, as they’ve all been eaten by asylum seekers who assume anything with “sanctuary” in the name is their new home.
As for Musk, he’s not giving up hope. He’s planning another launch for later this year, and this time the rocket will be packed with Holocaust denial literature, so if it explodes, Musk states, “the debris will red-pill the townsfolk!”
ROCKET WOMAN (HEAR HER BORE)
Sticking with space, Dr. Eloise Marais, Associate Professor in Physical Geography at University College, London, exploited Musk’s misfortune to advance her own pet project and personal beef:
Mankind must not explore space!
Marais believes that rocket launches are destroying the planet! Rockets release black carbon (not to be confused with “black car-bum,” which is who you’ll find defecating in your stolen car in San Francisco).
Black carbon soots up the atmosphere, and enough of it will shut the skies and produce endless night on planet Earth! In a BBC interview, Marais admitted that the aviation industry releases far more pollutants than the space sector. Then she shrugged her shoulders, said, “But what are ya gonna do?” and boarded Bill Gates’ private jet to attend a climate conference in Bermuda.
Marais’ fearmongering recalls that wacky comedy duo, Ted Kennedy and James McDonald. In the early 1970s, Kennedy brought McDonald, a UFO fanatic, to Capitol Hill to argue against the creation of supersonic air travel. McDonald warned that a plane like the Concorde would destroy the ozone layer and lead to 10,000 deaths a year among those living near the airports serviced by the planes.
Kennedy, for his part, argued that a two-and-a-half-hour transatlantic flight would not give him nearly enough time to incapacitate a woman with alcohol, rape her, sober her up, and get her to sign an NDA with a cash payoff.
“I, err, ehm, am not supah-human,” he told his colleagues.
Kennedy and McDonald’s antics killed supersonic flight development in the U.S., but in Europe, none of McDonald’s dire scenarios came to pass. No 10,000 annual Concorde-related deaths. McDonald, though, died shortly after the hearings, at age 51. He was on a UFO-hunting trip in the Arizona desert, and park rangers found him dead with an entry wound to his head.
Looks like he made contact, and looks like the probing went poorly…and from the wrong end.
BIG SKY COUNTRY? MORE LIKE WIG GUY COUNTRY
Recalling the earlier-mentioned “national divorce,” how would you solve a problem like Missoula?
Second-biggest metro in Montana. And leftist as all hell. If red Montana seceded, who’d get custody of Missoula?
As Montana’s politicians try to prevent the genital mutilation of the state’s children in the name of trannyism, they’re being thwarted at every turn by “Zooey Zephyr,” a bewigged monstrosity who serves as Missoula’s highly popular representative at the Statehouse.
“Zooey,” a man pretending to be a woman, was elected in 2022, defeating his GOP opponent with a whopping 79.2 percent of the vote. And now “Zooey” is using his mandate to run a one-transwoman campaign to make Montana a safe haven for carving up children so mentally ill adults can get off and money-hungry doctors can get rich.
Yes, the people of Missoula like their trannies the same way they like their native bull trout: stinkin’ up the house.
Last week, “Zooey” slammed his colleagues for committing genocide by trying to prevent child torture. You know that genocide, right? The one that’s completely fake. The one you can’t question in public.
No, Mr. Musk, not that genocide. That one’s real. This is the tranny genocide.
Jeez, man, you’re obsessed.
For calling his colleagues murderers, “Zooey” was removed from the House floor and given a suspension.
So now of course he’s being genocided by being “silenced.” And a bunch of trannies have pledged revenge.
In Utah, a gang of trans-creatures got their revenge, vandalizing a lawmaker’s house and promising more violence to come, because he backs a bill that outlaws “trans surgery” for kids.
Scream national divorce all you like. The freaks are already in your state. It ain’t gonna be easy gettin’ ’em out.
The funny thing about Netflix’s new Cleopatra “docudrama” is that even if Afrocentrism were not the current holy writ and guiding force in Hollywood, even if the director weren’t an identitarian nutcase, and even if the producer weren’t Will Smith’s wretched Lex Lutherian wife, Cleopatra still wouldn’t have been portrayed the way she actually looked.
Just examine the contemporaneous images. Huge hooked nose, bitter little mouth…Hollywood—you know, the town that made Ruth Bader Ginsburg look like this, Deborah Lipstadt look like this, cast Rachel Brosnahan as Mrs. Maisel, and by God if they ever do a biopic of Madeline Albright they’ll cast Margot Robbie—would never allow it.
Still, the decision to cast Cleopatra as a Soul Train sista who looks more at home TikToking about how Darquan be cheatin’ on her than ruling a royal palace, has provoked outrage in Egypt, where politicians and antiquities experts have slammed Netflix for spreading the completely unfounded myth that Cleo was black.
One Egyptian attorney even filed suit against the show, trying to get it shelved.
Queen Cleopatra director Tina Gharavi responded to the controversy in a Variety op-ed in which she used terms like “melanated” and “misogynoir” as shorthand for saying, “I’m functionally retarded.”
She declared that black women need to see “black queens” to better understand that their lineage is royal and dignified.
And as Gharavi wrote those words a bloat of black women on both sides of the counter at a Georgia McDonald’s began beating each other with sticks, buns, and brooms, ripping out wigs and weaves and destroying the countertop, all because the store ran out of sweet ’n’ sour sauce.
As when the hunt for McNugget meals,
Drives on with horn and strife,
Hunger of hopeless things pursues.
No sauce? I’ll end your life.
Who talks to me of reason now?
It would be more delight
To have died in Cleopatra’s arms
Than lose my weave tonight.
(Apologies to Robert Louis Stevenson.)