August 19, 2018

Aretha Franklin

Aretha Franklin

Source: Wikimedia Commons

The Week’s Most Captivating, Titillating, and Nauseating Headlines

Aretha Franklin passed into the giant donut shop in the sky last week, causing many to remember her as one of the 20th century’s most electrifying voices for female empowerment, while still others will recall her as nothing more than that ridiculously obese black chick whose name sounded like “urethra.”

A lifelong alcoholic known for serial diva tantrums and bitter fallings-out with costars, Franklin was the daughter of a Baptist preacher who said that he heard God’s voice coming out of a wooden plank when he was 15. Li’l Aretha first gave birth at age 13 and was married to a pimp at age 19.

Perhaps her most famous song was 1967’s “Respect,” in which she demanded that men treat her respectfully when they come home. In response, black men simply decided not to come home at all, seeing as how the black illegitimacy rate has roughly tripled since the song’s release.

Comedian Ari Shaffir honored Franklin’s passing thusly:

Aretha Franklin showed generations of black people that big can be beautiful, dooming them to a diabetes epidemic. Roast in hell, monster.

In Virginia, an argument over whether or not Halle Berry played Aretha Franklin in a movie led to a shooting. The victim was hospitalized and is in serious condition.

It is our sober assessment that Aretha Franklin had a deleterious effect on every part of the black community she didn’t personally eat.

Of all the countries forced to swallow the flow of fecal bilge known more politely as the “refugee crisis” over the past few years, none has been transformed as much as Sweden, which has suffered an influx of 600,000 non-Swedes over five years in a country of only ten million.

Last Tuesday night, dozens of those neo-Swedes carried off what was an apparently organized attempt to show their gratitude to their host nation by torching about 80 cars in the cities of Goteborg, Malmo, and Trollhaten. There were reports of “masked youth” also throwing stones at police and indigenous Swedes.

As the smoke cleared in the morning, Swedish Prime Minster Stefan Lofven said he was “getting really mad.” He even directly confronted the masked youth with this sharp reprimand: “What the heck are you doing?”

Idiotic socialists often point to Scandinavia—actually, they only point to Scandinavia—as an example of how socialism can create a clean, prosperous, functional society, even if the government actually purloins 80% of the fruit of your labor. But it is precisely socialism’s brain-damaged assertion that all humans are equal and that culture itself is a social construct and therefore that some woolly rapist born in an Afghani cave becomes every bit as Swedish as Bjorn Borg the minute his brown toes touch Swedish soil that will prove to be Scandinavian socialism’s undoing.

“This is what happens when people forget that people are animals.”

But however docile and placid and brainwashed indigenous Swedes have been rendered by their overlords, the Viking spirit hasn’t entirely been extinguished. In the upcoming national elections on September 9, the Sweden Democrats—which no major media outlet on the planet will hesitate to tell you has “roots in neo-Nazism and white nationalism”—is outpolling all other parties.

Sweden Democrat lawmaker Stefan Lofven appears to discard the “magic soil” theory and is brave enough to call a Swede a Swede:

It’s taken us perhaps 1,000 years to become what we are today….Why should we change into a Middle Eastern country. Why should we care about Islam? Sweden is not an Islamic country. Why should we be influenced by one of the worst ideologies in the world?

Apparently many Swedes are willing to suffer the indignities of being called racists if it means not being gang-raped or having your car firebombed. Doesn’t sound like a bad tradeoff. As our mothers taught us, rapes and bombs may break our bones, but words can never hurt us.

In the latest iteration of the Progressive Darwin Award competition known as “Virtue-Signaling Yourself to Death,” starry-eyed American couple Jay Austin and Lauren Geoghegan set about to bicycle their way around the world and prove that “humans are kind.”

They apparently never meet many humans, because they wound up getting rammed by a car full of five Muslim men in the battered and skeevy Central Asian country of Tajikistan, then stabbed and shot to death after the bearded jihadists had their fill of running over the dimwitted American millennials.

In his blog—people should really need a license to have one of those things—Jay had written with a fatal hope about he and his naïve girlfriend’s plans to cycle their way around this kind world:

You read the papers and you’re led to believe that the world is a big, scary place. People, the narrative goes, are not to be trusted. People are bad. People are evil….I don’t buy it…. By and large, humans are kind. Self-interested sometimes, myopic sometimes, but kind. Generous and wonderful and kind.

I’ve grown tired of spending the best hours of my day in front of a glowing rectangle, of coloring the best years of my life in swaths of grey and beige. I’ve missed too many sunsets while my back was turned. Too many thunderstorms went unwatched, too many gentle breezes unnoticed…

Jay, my idiot friend, you will never see another sunset. This is what happens when people forget that people are animals.

Spain’s smelly hordes of neo-Marxists, still deeply ashamed that their country had a fascist dictator far longer than any other, are a perpetually clueless and aggrieved gaggle of shitheels who look like Allen Ginsberg with AIDS and wish to distribute their misery equally to everyone else in the world.

Over the past few years in Spain a trend has emerged that is as equally stupid as the “planking” craze of a few years ago but far more fatal—it’s called “balconing” and involves getting blind drunk and climbing between building balconies. Balconing has killed dozens of people in Spain over the past few years, and according to one hospital study, two-thirds of balconing’s victims are British tourists. In July of this year, an eighteen-year-old British male, vacationing in Mallorca to celebrate having completed his A levels, fell 70 feet to his death while balconing.

In the same spiteful and jealous way that poor urban blacks get pissed off at white “gentrifiers” whose chief sin is having more money and intelligence than they do, Spanish radicals seethe at the fact that Britons have the time and money to visit Spain and enrich the local economy. Via graffiti and posters that have been popping up of late in Barcelona, they are encouraging tourists to fall to their deaths while balconing. One poster plastered on a lamppost reads:

Dear Tourist. Did you know balconing? Prevents gentrification, improves neighbours’ quality of life, reduces the risk of heart disease, is LOTS of fun.

“TOURISTS GO HOME, AND PLEASE, PRACTICE BALCONING!” was spotted spray-painted on a grey wall.

And the rub of it is that these greasy morons appear to see it as some bold statement against capitalism rather than what they’d undoubtedly call it if anyone who wasn’t a Marxist was doing it: murderous xenophobia.

According to the South African government, 72% of the nation’s private land is owned by whites and only 4% by blacks, with the remainder owned by people we will assume are vaguely butterscotch-colored.

South African President Cyril Ramaphosa—whose giant round head has always reminded us of the title character in the 1898 film A Trip to the Moon recently announced that all of the country’s white farmers would be divested of their land without compensation, and we have every assurance that this will not lead to Zimbabwe 2.0.

Last week a minority rights group—which in South Africa means a white identity group—called AfriForum says it had received a secret government document that named 195 farms that are soon to be seized by white farmers. Government officials deny the document’s authenticity, but we suspect they not only made the list, they are checking it twice.

In the beautiful African country of Malawi, where the nominal per capita GDP is less than a dollar a day, ten percent of adults are HIV-positive, and your life expectancy at birth is a scant fifty years, a recent string of child killings has been blamed on the fact that these poor saps still believe in witchcraft. They think if you slaughter a child and pluck out its brain or tongue or genitals, you’ll get good luck if you wiggle the organ around, or wear it on your neck, or grind it into a poultice or something—we don’t know the specifics, only that it’s savage and stupid.

While a BBC crew was recently investigating the child murders, angry nearby villagers convinced themselves that the Britons were instead a group of vampires who sought to suck children’s blood for fun and profit. Armed with machetes and rocks, they chased the crew members. Fortunately or unfortunately—depending upon how you feel about the BBC—no one was killed in the attack. However, eight indigenous Africans have been killed so far in the vampire panic. How you feel about that depends on how you feel about vampires and Africans.

It makes us sick to our lactose-tolerant stomachs that in this year, in this day and age, in this country, after everything we’ve been through as a family and a community and a nation and a planet and a solar system, people still refer to Asian Americans as “ching-changs” and “ching-chongs.”

Yet that’s exactly what happened recently when Michigan legislator Bettie Cook Scott—a woman roughly the color of a roasted coffee bean—verbally disparaged her competitor Stephanie Chang in a recent Democratic primary. According to witnesses, while stumping outside polling stations throughout the day, Scott:

• Told an Asian volunteer for Chang’s campaign that she was an “immigrant” who “don’t belong here,” adding “I want you out of my country.”

• Told a voter that “these immigrants from China are coming over and taking our community from us” and that it “disgusts” her to see “black people holding signs for these Asians and not supporting their own people.”

• Told Chang’s own husband, a black man, that he was a “fool” for marrying an Asian woman.

• Told one voter, “Thanks for voting for me. You don’t need to vote for that ching-chang.”

• Told several voters, “Vote for me. Don’t vote for the ching-chong!”

In the end, Chang got 49% of the vote to Scott’s 11%. This saddens us, because Scott sounds like a lot of fun.

Every Monday, Jim Goad reads the previous day’s “Week That Perished” on his podcast.


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