The riots and shooting in Missouri are now the trending topic for peak viewers in the Right demographic subgroup, and once again Americans can sit back comfortably with some kind of snack substance, pop open a carbonated beverage, and wait for the latest wave of destruction from Third World inhabitants in full HD.
Destruction wrought by hideously out-of-place people in the streets who seem to have an enormous amount of time on their hands. Nothing but time, it seems. There they are on display, receiving the usual sentimental gestures from the Democrat Media Complex, who play the scenes for the purpose. It’s all purpose. There is no need for real, factual relevancy, because in the post-American nightmare relevancy is irrelevant, polarization makes more commercial sense, and facts are just not juicy enough for real anger to flow (and remember, sensitivity pushes away the unwanted side elements). After all, anger sells. It makes people watch and notice, and ratings couldn’t be higher. Screaming at the oppressors somehow just makes it right. And it has to be right. It’s on TV.
It’s about the brutality, you see. Meanness. The Blue White Meanies. It’s about some throwback to historical understandings, past injustice, the impoverished, and something about … bridging the gap, making things right, doing the right thing, embracing something, caring, putting yourself in someone else’s shoes, waking up to smell the coffee, not turning back the clock, never going back to something, imagining there’s no heaven, reparations, making amends, bringing about some closure, lack of funding, lack of understanding, people are just people, hey-hey ho-ho western civ has got to go, everyone is equal, bridging the gap again, we should all just learn to get along, ebony and ivory, free your mind, and peace, love, and understanding really aren’t that funny. Or something. I’m still not sure.
But I am sure of one thing.
There has never been a moment, never more a time in our history when the imperative for our own state is here. Right now. Today. That moment is slapping us in the face. Dead center. It isn’t just this incident, this absurdity playing out in Ferguson, this anomaly in our midst, this wreckage of sub-humanity taking up space to consume, perform a wasted minstrel show, wreak havoc, and ruin the very life support system given to them by the Real Americans. It is the continuing repetition, the constant barrage of abuse and ridicule that won’t stop until we’re finished. Gone. Erased. It won’t matter how many millionaire athletes run up and down football fields waving at their idiot mudsharks or drunken fans, or how many millionaire talk show hosts amass even more millions while oozing honey-dipped, crunchy sweet faux love onto their audience, or even if an anti-White Cultural Marxist — the antifa’s own — becomes President. It won’t matter. Ever. It will never stop. It will continue to sucker punch us with even more power and disgust as time goes on.
The riots in Ferguson are for one reason — hate. Their hate. Blacks uniquely slaughter each other daily in our formerly booming, vibrant, MS-13 free cities. You know, the ones in black and white movies from sixty years ago that actually had kids walking together around lighted businesses at night. Formerly safe — for the most part. Formerly normal. Formerly communities. But what do we see? Nothing. Ethnic to ethnic murder just isn’t part of the if-it-bleeds-it-leads template. It’s not news. It’s just a statistic. Statistics are boring, unless a Caucasian perp can be found. Riots are cooler. So the Fundamental Transformation marches forward, devouring everything on the plate that it can. Even the crumbs. And if there isn’t anything left? Easy. Break the plate. Smash it. Then throw the pieces at the open-mouthed ignoramuses. Wait for sympathy from the anti-reality, catatonic Left and then work it to your advantage. Demand more. Hate more. And that’s really it. It’s quite simple: The riots represent the hatred and resentment from blacks towards our people, not about the kid that got shot. He isn’t the issue. He never is. It’s twisted logic in the minds of the distorted. The warped. Because if it were about victims, then the “activists” would think it through. They’d reason, or at least attempt to reason in between reloading and looting. But these attacks are about us, about seething animosity, not “justice.”
Civil rights? Civil “rights” aren’t about rights anymore. It’s about payback. Perpetual payback. Unity? There isn’t any, just tension and conflict brought on by race dweebs who work for the shakedown.
No. No. And no. Sorry. We’re not “all in this together,” and we don’t want to “come together for a better future,” and we can’t “think of the children.” Our children, yes. Our responsibilities, yes. Our new state, rising on the horizon, yes. It’s right around the corner. But the System, this gross thing we call a government, this useless enemy of our people — no. It isn’t going to cure itself. Not now, not ever. This isn’t us, this is the un-us. We’re not part of it and need to make that clear in every move, every thought, every part of our lives. Every, single day.
What you see in Ferguson doesn’t have to happen. And we shouldn’t even have to deal with it. Think of a place where it would never happen. A place where the conditions don’t even exist for it to happen.
So now? Get out. Get out of America, and get into something new. Something that belongs to you. Something you can hold in your hands. Something you can call your own. Just for you. For your happiness. For your family, your well-being, and your future. It’s coming.
Can you feel it?