Wrong Place, Wrong Time


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Wrong place, wrong time. Words so often used they’ve become cliche. We don’t think about them very much when we hear them on a TV broadcast, or read them in some random article in a newspaper or on a website. All we know when encountering them is that something bad happened to someone. A freak accident. A fatal encounter. Whatever.

It wasn’t until David was murdered that it came to me that they are probably four of the most horrific words ever. Four words used to describe a life snipped short, in some fashion, usually thanks to a horrific confluence of circumstances. And to the rest of the world, thats the summation of a life: wrong place, wrong time. The person becomes subsumed into the event that ended their life, meaning their life, in some ways, becomes lost in the mix.

David was out on his usual Sunday evening walk. Where he lived was the type of place you’d expect that you could walk in safety from anything that could possibly fall under “wrong place, wrong time.” But that night, he crossed paths with a kid named Byron. A kid who decided he wanted to rob David of his cell phone.  And so Byron decided to try and take David’s cell phone.

According to the police, David successfully fended off Byron. And, for the briefest of moments, that may have been it. But, David used that same phone to call the police, while Byron was still in his general vicinity. That’s when Byron pulled out a gun and shot David once, in the chest. And that was that.

Snitches get stitches, don’t you see.

The man who I had grown to love and cherish as a friend, bleeding out on a cold Seattle street. The man who had married my friend Kim and loved her to death, who had raised her son as his own, left to die like a fucking animal all because a punk ass fucking kid decided to throw a tantrum.

There’s something else hidden in those four words: wrong place, wrong time. This hidden aspect is the acknowledgement of the monstrous randomness of this universe. Shit happens, there’s no rhyme or reason, other than the simple fact that entropy is the law of the universe.

But we just forget that, all too often.

I was no stranger to death before David was murdered. It started when I was a teenager, and the man I admired the most, who I looked up to with something approaching reverence, my uncle, committed suicide while he sat in a bathtub in his house in Palm Springs. He attempted to shoot himself in the head, but it appeared that instead he either jerked when he pulled the trigger or the recoil from the gun made him essentially miss.  Rick suffered a glancing shot to his head that left him unconscious. He slipped forward into the water and drowned.

My lasting memory of my first encounter with death and horrible randomness is sun shining off snow, a blindingly bright day on which to first have my life stained by the shadow of death.

From there, I lost grandparents to cancer and alzheimers and old age. That kind of death is painful, but manageable, able to easily be comprehended, at least. Even my Uncle’s suicide could be understood, to some extent.

But then, beautiful Ruby was killed by a drunk driver on an icy Alaskan road. One of the sweetest souls I ever knew taken at 28, and her killer served only 90 days in jail. Alaska doesn’t have a vehicular manslaughter law, so the most she could be charged with was DUI.

This fuckin world.

Ruby was followed a couple of years later by my friend Patrick and cousin Randi. Both were wiped out by OD’s, Pat by a heroin overdose, Randi by a mix of opiates and xanax knock-offs. Pat’s junkie friends dumped him on the curb in front of a hospital like a fucking garbage bag, but it was too late. Fucking pussies.

Randi was found in time, and was kept alive on a respirator for a few days. But there was no coming back for her and my aunt and uncle had to make the most tragic of all decisions.

All this is to say Death and I are old friends, and I thought he had served me with almost every possible variety. I knew how to deal with death, how to accept it in what I thought was a wide spectrum of circumstances. But David’s death…I couldn’t cope. My mind could not, can not, wrap itself around the fact that my friend was fucking murdered for something as trivial as a cell phone.

My friend, essentially dissolved into an ocean of crime statistics. Reduced to a number in an official record somewhere at police headquarters. One of the however many that would make up some police bureaucrat’s PowerPoint presentation to a city council meeting, someday.

Speaking of statistics, David’s death was an outlier in every respect. Fatal interpersonal violence that crosses racial lines is on the far edges of the distribution curve..Taleb’s Black Swan event. Monstrous randomness.

Wrong place, wrong time. Four little words that encompass an incredible series of events dating back for however long you want to take it, to bring about things that shatter human lives, scattering those lives like so many leaves in the wind.

What does one do in the face of such monstrous randomness?

I….I got angry. I got angry every time I’d hear the break in Kim’s voice when she would talk about David afterwards. I got angry every time she’d mention him in the present tense still, knowing it meant she was hurting so fucking badly because her mind simply couldn’t comprehend what had happened to the love of her life.

I got angry every time I remembered the feel of Kim’s body next to mine, the feel of her hand, the first time we saw Byron walk into the courtroom. Her hand crushing mine, her whole body shaking violently, almost uncontrollably.

I got angry every time I remembered the late night text Kim sent me with a recording of David’s last voicemail to her. My friend, her husband, reduced to a few brief seconds of audio, becoming a ghost in a machine, thanks to the horrible, terrifying randomness of this plane of existence.

I got angry at this filthy, decadent world that barely noticed the death of a good man. I would burn it all down, just for the chance, the fucking chance, to give David back to Kim. And I got even angrier because I knew I never could.

I got angry because I could see the smallest of smirks on Byron’s face sometimes when we’d see him in his so far interminable court hearings. I got angry that it seemed as though the few extra officers from the prison would accompany him to the courtroom, and set themselves up around him, fucking seemingly protecting him.

I got angry that I knew my daydreams of rushing forward suddenly and bashing his head into the table, and then trying to gouge his eyes out, would accomplish very little. And besides, like I just said, they were fucking protecting the scumbag.

I got angry that I had to watch Kim try and rebuild her life at a time where she and David were meant to be sailing towards the final part of their happily ever after. I got angry as I had to watch her frantically search for any man who could match the man David was, a particularly difficult thing in this vacuous and decadent time.

I got angry because suddenly I became a horrible person to people I have known and loved for half my life, if not more, at this point. I got angry that my friend was dead, his widow barely holding on, and I was somehow the asshole for talking loudly about what our sampling of the universe tells us about who kills whom most often.

I couldn’t help it. The shock to my concsiousness brought about by my encounter with monstrous randomness and its particular vehicle as far as David’s death was concerned was as strong as any LSD you could take. It felt like cold water had been poured over every ounce of my being, my perception altered to see everything in hard, sharp, glittering lines. The world was now full of constant threat, and my mind had shifted itself to perceive things in terms of friend, foe or neutral.

There are predators and prey, and if you try and pretty it up any other way, well then, you’re just deceiving yourself and increasing the risk to yourself all in one go. And like I said earlier, I got angry that somehow I was the asshole for talking about who was most often the predator and the prey anymore, at least here in these good ole United States of America.

Wrong place, wrong time. We hear these words all the time, but rarely think about what they truly represent: the monstrous randomness which governs our lives, no matter how much we might like to think otherwise. Able to strike with devastating and deadly effectiveness. And there’s not a fucking thing we can do about it.


She misses you desperately, David.

We all do.

Thanks for the Lulz, Chick

Dear haggard and sallow skinned former friend, no, I am indeed not mad. Instead, I find three emotions running through me after I read your likely libelous screed : amusement, bewilderment and pity.

Amusement, because I set out to troll ya just a little bit and got such a disproportionate response that I couldn’t help *but* laugh. Bewilderment, because I am completely in the dark as to what I may have done to elicit such a response from you. Hell, given our last real human interaction, I was under the impression that a limited friendship of some sort was going to be in the cards.

And then I found myself pitying you, because all I took away from the aforementioned libelous screed is someone who lives in the past and has delusions about what I’m even trying to do in communicating with you.

It’s interesting you noted all your friends think I’ll end up murdering you. I wonder what kind of bullshit you’ve been saying over the years for that to be an accepted sentiment from yourself and your friends. lol. I feel no anger towards you at all anymore and haven’t for a long time.

Your threat of physical violence towards me was a nice touch, as was the litany of shit from almost a decade ago. Although, funnily enough, I found it odd you knew of a single post here on this blog from nearly two and half years ago. I mean, if we’re talking stalker-ish shit, your harassment of my wife on the Internet for the better part of a year probably constitutes a greater case of it than anything I’ve done since we were kids lol.

Anyways, have a good one and again, thanks for the lulz.


White Privilege: Media and Academia’s Prettily Packaged Racism


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In a completely unsurprising turn, the professional Left and it’s grassroots base wasted no time in lecturing white people about any number of things following the grand jury’s decision to not indict Officer Darren Wilson in the shooting death of Mike Brown last month. Of course, one of the things they lectured the most about was the fabled “white privilege.” If you thought it’s completely ridiculous for people to torch Ferguson in the wake of the grand jury’s decision, you probably suffered from white privilege. If you thought that the facts of the case seem to support the narrative that Mike Brown tried to grab Wilson’s gun in an altercation which ultimately lead to his death, and not inherent racism on Wilson’s part, then obviously it’s your white privilege speaking. And so on and so forth.

The funny thing is, and the institutional Left and their street-level soldiers hate when you try and point this out, but the concept of white privilege is completely racist. How so, you might be asking. Well let’s unpack this concept.

First off, it’s a set of generalized assumptions being applied to a group, and to the individuals within that group. In most cases, those generalized assumptions are also assumed to be automatically true about the group, and about any individuals who belong to the group. For instance, La Wik defines white privilege as “societal privileges that benefit white people in western countries beyond what is commonly experienced by the non-white people under the same social, political, or economic circumstances.”

So every white person, in every instance, has “societal privileges” that are “beyond what is commonly experienced by non-white people.”

The definition goes on to note that these alleged privileges are “unearned” although interestingly enough, the Wikipedia page tries to counter the fact that this is a completely racist concept by stating “the term denotes both obvious and less obvious passive advantages that white persons may not recognize they have, which distinguishes it from overt bias or prejudice.”


Let’s widen our perspective now. Now, according to the Left et al, racism is something like people believing that “black people are more violent and prone to crime,” or “Muslims are all terrorists.” In both instances, a broad belief about the group is assumed to also be applied to individuals within the group, AND THAT’S JUST RACIST BULLSHIT YOU IGNORANT BIGOT.  (Irregardless of any statistical reality regarding both groups.)

But, as we see above, white privilege works in the exact same way. As we already learned, ALL white people enjoy “societal privileges” that non-whites don’t, and that, again, in every instance, these mythical privileges are also “unearned.” It’s the exact same dynamic as our example assumptions about black people and Muslims.

Of course, white privilege gets a pass because it’s a concept pushed by Brahmin elites in both the media and academia. It can’t be wrong, it can’t be racist, because the people who talk about it most often have PhD’s behind their names! And if you think it is wrong and racist, well, then, that’s just another example of your privilege anyway.

Thankfully, it’s only SJW idiots who truly believe in this concept. People of all colors with even a shred of common sense realize the concept is just academically sanctioned racist bullshit. At the same time though, the Left’s continued insistence on this idiocy being the cause of everything bad that happens to PoC’s means they’re alienating more and more people all the time, especially among the young.


A Month Later: 4chan vs 8chan


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In the wake of #GamerGate and SJW’s being said to invade 4chan.org/pol/, a number of users made a commitment to give up 4chan for good, beginning October 1. According to various snapshots from Alexa taken throughout the month, it appears a large number of people made the migration to 8chan, which did make a dent in 4chan’s numbers. Starting with a snapshot at the beginning of October:



On October 15:



And this morning:



While the damage to 4chan hasn’t quite met up to what I imagine organizers were thinking at the beginning of the month, the last graph does show a downslope and downslope only for 4chan since the beginning of October. And obviously, 8chan.co is doing nothing but going upward since the beginning of the month, so large numbers did head over to Frederick “Hot Wheels” Brennan’s creation in the time since #GamerGate, #TheFappening and everything around it started.

Keep up the good fight, young warriors!

A Portrait of the Autist as a Young Man: Leftists Have Become Rain Man


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Dustin Hoffman and Tom Cruise in Rain Man

Dustin Hoffman and Tom Cruise in Rain Man

As ebola fears continue to circulate and build throughout the Western world, the West’s progressives continue to whine and complain about the fact that people are, well, being mean about the whole issue. Whether it’s suggestions of quarantines, to travel bans, to any other commonsense approach to containing what appears to be an increasingly dangerous situation all-around, the Left has now approached a point where they sound like Dustin Hoffman’s character from Rain Man. Autistic, rocking back and forth, muttering all of their favorite catchphrases: racism, racism, racism, social justice, social justice, social justice, misogyny, misogyny, misogyny, and back to racism.

Case in point: The Washington Post, over the weekend, came out with a story titled “The long and ugly tradition of treating Africa as a diseased, dirty place.” In it, authors Laura Say and Kim Yi Dionne, like Rain Man rocking back and forth talking about Judge Wapner, say part of the Ebola fear stems from the West’s perception of Africa as a permanent place of “otherness”:

Othering happens when an in-group (in this case, white northern Europeans) treat other groups of people (the out-group, here, Africans and other people of color) as though there is something wrong with them by identifying perceived “flaws” in the out-group’s appearance, practice or norms.

They continue on in their typically autist, leftist way, making the tired case that the actual root of the problem (you know, not a deadly virus that has a potential to spread like few others in recent memory due to the globalization of the economy and travel) is White people fearing Blacks, no matter their place of origin:

Newsweek’s piece is in the worst tradition of what journalist Howard French calls “Ooga-Booga” journalism, the practice of writing in exoticizing and dehumanizing ways about Africa.

(One wonders if either of the authors caught this piece from June, in which a Congolese soldier tells journalists, “When we rape, we feel free.“)

The entire way the story is framed also seems to imply that Africa isn’t that bad of a place to be, and that Western fears about the continent and its peoples are overstated. There must be no reason, then, that Somali-born rapper K’naan had a song come out in recent years simply titled T.I.A (This Is Africa.) Anyone who watched the movie Blood Diamond should also be familiar with this phrase. Let’s see what a native of one of the few “stateless” societies in the world has to say about his home continent:

I’ll take rappers on a field trip any day
They never been opposite real clip any way
I know where all the looters and the shooters stay
Welcome to the city we call Doomsday

Where niggas are just fried chicken like Tuesday
Oh, you from the hood, huh, who say?
My Nigerian niggas will call you pussy
My Somali niggas are quick to grab the Uzi

Sounds lovely, don’t you agree? Another fact worth considering for our autistic writers at WaPo is the amount of mass migration out of Africa over the last several decades. As WikiPedia notes:

The number of migrants from Sub-Saharan Africa in Europe are between 3,5 and 8 million, concentrated mainly inBelgium, France, Italy, the Netherlands, Portugal, Spain and the United Kingdom.

So, millions upon millions of Africans have left their ancestral homelands. But, you know, it’s wrong for the West to think poorly of the continent and its inhabitants.

The last six years have shown the complete bankruptcy of leftist ideals to solve the modern world’s problems. Whether it’s the financial crisis, to terror groups like ISIS, to Ebola, the left is a broken record now. Their answer for all these problems boils down to some combination of racism, racism, social justice, social justice, white privilege, white privilege, sexism, sexism blah blah blah.

Even in cases where it’s not a major crisis, but rather new, disruptive technologies that many see as a possible solution to some of the world’s current problems, like Bitcoin, the Left falls back on these threadbare explanations, for whatever reason. Soon enough, hopefully, the Left will be confined to dusty corners, with very few paying attention to them anymore. When all you can do is rock back and forth fitfully and all you say is “racism, racism, racism etc.”, it’s no surprise that people are going to tune you out completely after awhile.

Thankfully, it appears we’ve reached that point finally.

Combating Ebola is Racist: The Left Goes Full Retard


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As the ebola virus continues to consume lives and spread around the globe, the left is back to more of their tired old tropes. You see, contemplating travel restrictions, bans or quarantines is…you guessed it… racist.

On Sunday, Twitchy noted that a King County, WA emergency manager tweeted one of the first barrage of this idiocy:

I mean, never mind the fact that it’s taken nearly 4,500 lives in West Africa alone, and has also taken lives here in the US and Germany. Or the fact that one of the nurses who treated the American ebola patient came down with the virus herself and then proceeded to fly from one end of the country to another, exposing approximately 750 people in the process. 

And then there’s this doozy from the UK’s Guardian, The problem with the west’s Ebola response is still fear of a black patient. Author Hannah Giorgis trots out some of the most boring and tired cries of racism yet:

Thomas Eric Duncan, the first person to die of Ebola in the United States, was not the right kind of victim for the west: he wasn’t a pretty young woman smiling in sunglasses as a Cavalier King Charles spaniel named Bentley licks her cheek; he didn’t have a young, benevolent doctor’s facethat looks “appropriate” plastered on newspapers; he wasn’t a kindly older nurse who told reporters how God had spared her. He wasn’t the kind of person to whom primetime news specials would dedicate 20 minutes and glorify with quotes from loved ones about his kind spirit or ceaseless determination to overcome an unfair affliction.

Thomas Eric Duncan was black, he was poor, and he was African.

She continues in the same boring manner:

Ebola now functions in popular discourse as a not-so-subtle, almost completely rhetorical stand-in for any combination of “African-ness”, “blackness”, “foreign-ness” and “infestation” – a nebulous but powerful threat, poised to ruin the perceived purity of western borders and bodies. Dead African bodies are the nameless placeholders for (unwarranted,racist) “panic”, a conversation topic too heavy for the dinner table yet light enough for supermarket aisles.

In the next paragraph, Giorgis cites the numbers already used here, a reminder that the disease has a significantly high mortality rate. In addition to those numbers, it was reported earlier this week that of 16 members of Doctors Without Borders infected with the virus, nine had died. To top it all off, the aforementioned death in Germany was an infected UN worker.  And so while many are trying to downplay the threat to the West, it’s worth noting that healthcare professionals treating the disease don’t seem to be faring too well in their efforts.

So we have a virus which has a significant mortality rate, and is also spreading fairly quickly, crossing borders and oceans with ease thanks to the global economy and global travel. Common sense should tell most everyone that this is probably something worth worrying about, and that an effective means to combat the virus is through various forms of quarantine. People have a right to be worried, and also have a right to be protected from the disease. Continued travel to and from West Africa is risky at best and downright dangerous at its worst.

But then you have the left coming along as usual, lecturing people about racism yet again in the face of reality. Anymore, they sound like broken records, and it’s no wonder that people are tuning them out in significant numbers. They’re definitely in full retard mode, and unfortunately, this instance of the left going full retard contains the potential for death and disaster on a significant scale.

Dammit, lefties, YOU NEVER GO FULL RETARD.

Staring Into a Murderer’s Eyes

It’s been nearly a year since David was murdered, and six months since we were all in court for his killers first court appearance. And so it was with a bit of trepidation that we all headed to court last month for some random legal wrangling between the prosecutors and defense attorneys.

This time was a bit different than the last time we were all in court. For one, there was no glass wall separating the gallery from the actual courtroom itself. The temptation to reach out and punch David’s killer, an 18-year-old black piece of shit named Byron White, was very powerful. Especially after he and I locked eyes for a few brief seconds.

We took our seats on the left side of the courtroom, not knowing that meant we’d have a clear line of sight for White when he entered the courtroom. We waited tensely for a number of minutes until he finally appeared. He entered through a side door, escorted by a jail officer. In that moment, my eyes met his and I finally had the chance to look my friend’s murderer in the eyes.

I’m not sure what I thought I might find there. Considering he was 17 when he murdered David, and 18 now, I thought there might be the slimmest chance that I’d glimpse some sort of humanity in him, some indication that he was a kid who was scared out of his mind. That was not the case, however.

Instead, all I saw was emptiness. The blank stare of a shark or a bear, of a predator. Strangely enough, this was vaguely relieving to me. It confirmed for me what he is, and what many from his group are: lawless, reckless, barely civilized creatures, who use violence to get what they want, and feel little to no remorse for their violence.

The moment passed as he turned his back to us to take his seat with his lawyers. We all noted that he was much larger than when we last saw him, and figured it’s due to the fact that he’s been in fear of his life for almost the entire time he’s been in jail. The threats on his life were credible enough that he’s been removed from general population and now spends his time in segregated confinement, which is actually closer to solitary confinement than you might think. To be honest, it brought a bit of joy to my heart to know this.

I stared into the eyes of my friends murderer, and came away realizing he’s closer to sub-human than human. And he will hopefully spend the majority of his life in a place that treats him as such.

Til next time.

CH Sommers and #GamerGate: The Lost Boys Find Their Wendy


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CH Sommers has been affectionately dubbed "based mom" by gamers and chan-ers

CH Sommers has been affectionately dubbed “based mom” by gamers and chan-ers

While GamerGate has been full of plenty of ugly, one unexpectedly delightful outcome has been the discovery of equality feminist CH Sommers by the disaffected gamers and 4chan-ers. As the GamerGaters battled with authoritarian feminists like Zoe Quinn, Anita Sarkeesian and Leigh Alexander, Sommers was able to provide a counterbalance to the equation, and has, accordingly, gained the love and trust of the disaffected youth who largely make up the various facets of GamerGate.

This new found love was given a chance to express itself, unfortunately, with the passing of Sommer’s husband, Frederic. Milo Yiannopoulos, who goes by @Nero on Twitter, helped organize the outpouring of support for Sommers last week:

Now, according to Quinn et al, their opponents in GamerGate are the worst of the worst. Unbridled misogynists who hate anything and everything feminine. Blogger Penny Red even went so far as to characterize gamers and 4Chan-ers making up GamerGate as a“million mouthbreathing manchild misogynists.

Thankfully, the signature book at dearbasedmom.com tells a different story:

Refvgee @Blaugast My deepest sympathies, you continue to be an inspiration.
Bunny I cant imagine what you must be going through, but my heart goes out to you in this sad time, We <3 you Based mom.
David Wiley @iamDavidWiley Condolences on your loss. Your many internet children wish you the best.
@raindropfrog Know that you are in our thoughts and prayers Based Mom.

In short, as the title suggests, the Lost Boys have found their Wendy. Thank you SJWs. You’ve opened up a whole new generation to the reality of your bullshit, and have pushed them in directions they likely otherwise never would have taken. Do you realize it yet? Of course you don’t. Which is just fine by us. We’ll be over here having a great time with Based Mom while you continue to be fucking miserable twats about anything and everything.


On 4Chan and the SJW Gentrifiers Who Killed It


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Zoe Quinn crowing about the destruction of 4chan

Zoe Quinn crowing about the destruction of 4chan

As the picture shows above, Zoe Quinn, one of the principal players regarding #GamerGate, took some time to crow about her success in destroying the cultural space of 4Chan. So what is it exactly that she’s celebrating? Well, as Twitter user @ALLCAPSBRO (ACB) pointed out yesterday, she, and her SJW comrades, are essentially gloating about their victory of their gentrification of 4Chan:

ACB points out something that others have previously, namely that SJW’s loud insistence on diversity and multiculturalism eventually means liquidation of said cultures. Just like the gentrification of poor neighborhoods that has been a cause celebre of the left in recent years, the SJW’s attempt to do the same thing, although their efforts are aimed at spaces and cultures which they don’t control.

Perhaps the most prominent example of this in recent months has been the controversy surrounding the NFL in light of the Ray Rice and Adrian Peterson allegations. The NFL is an anachronism to the modern left. Full of hierarchy and male violence, it is a space that the SJW’s *cannot* abide. As many commented during the height of the Rice scandal, the NFL has already been gentrified to some extent with the prominent wearing of pink during October. And with the fallout from Rice and Peterson, the gentrification continues apace, when the NFL announced in mid-September that a team of four women had been created to help combat domestic violence within the league.

Also of note is the conflict regarding the Peterson story as well. As Charles Barkley pointed out, severe corporal punishment of children has been a part of black southern culture for a long time now. But, that’s not acceptable to the SJW gentrifiers, and so their sights become set on yet another culture mostly out of their control that they feel they must liquidate.

As far as GamerGate and 4Chan go, both were spaces that were outside of SJW control. Gaming and image boards have always been predominantly male, predominantly young. Accordingly, both cultures were reflective of the demographic reality. Sexualization of women, wildly politically incorrect views, and general maleness were the norm for both.

And then, Quinn, Anita Sarkeesian and others decided it was time these spaces were gentrified. Not because it’s going to produce an ultimately better outcome for anyone, but mostly because it was an organic social arrangement that mostly excluded them, and, as already noted, that’s something the left *cannot* tolerate.

I’ve pointed out previously that the return on investment curve for SJW’s and their gentrification efforts is fast diminishing. Some of the “great” problems they’ve attempted to solve, have been. So now, they must search further and further afield for new places to gentrify. James Kalb, author of Against Inclusiveness, pointed out the increasing futility of the SJW’s gentrification efforts.

 As time passes and the diversity regime develops, the system of force becomes ever more comprehensive. Any inequality corresponds to a benefit in which some do not share, so that the settings and circumstances thought to demand intervention only multiply. A movement that began with calls for anti-lynching legislation has ended in concerns about micro-inequities and inappropriately directed laughter.

In the long run, it seems that the SJW’s form of gentrification is probably the far more dangerous one than the situation we usually think of when contemplating the term. SJW gentrification is more than happy to liquidate anything outside of their control, with questionable positive gains as the result. At least when it’s used in it’s more recognizable context, gentrification leads to positive results for neighborhoods and the people living in them. But, that’s the left isn’t it? Something positive for a place and the people living in it is actually a negative, while the destruction of a self-governed space that excludes them is seen as an inherent positive. Good times, guise, good times.

Now Accepting PayPal Donations!


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Hey everyone, just writing a short post to announce I now have a PayPal donation button available. As I’ve shared elsewhere on the blog, I recently parted ways with my reporting job and am now exploring other ways of finding income streams. If you find that you enjoy what I write, feel free to click on the button. (This will also help convince wifey that this is a viable option for us ;))

Thanks everyone!

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