Minnesota
In Yankeeland …
It turns out that Minneapolis has been the scene of “at least six incidents since early February where mobs of young people (trayvons) have randomly assaulted individuals on Nicollet Mall or nearby.”
Note: We spent February in sub-Saharan Africa celebrating Black History Month 2012. Minneapolis is about to enact a curfew because the trayvons have been showing “the content of their character.”
Note: In case you are new to Occidental Dissent, Minnesota was the scene of the Duluth white privilege campaign in January and the trayvons who rioted in the Mall of America in December.
“Trayvons” that’s rich!
Shoot to kill seems to be the order of the day, since the Trayvons are chimping out all over.
RaHoWa is HERE.
When I first visited Minneapolis in 1973, Nicollet Mall had me making noises like Gomer and Goober. Goooolly. Shazaam. I had never seen anything like it in the decaying car capital where I came from.
On that unseasonably warm spring day the mall was filled with beautiful girls in shorts and short skirts. The skyway system overhead was filled with Minneapolis citizens from all walks of life. They could travel all over downtown without ever going outside on cold, hot or rainy days.
Nicollet Mall was the transfer point for all bus riders travelling from one side of town to another. There were glass enclosed shelters that had radiant heat at the push of a button in the winter and ventilation fans for the hot days.
No cars on the mall; just taxis and buses. The lumbering red giants would stop on every block to disgorge bankers, hairdressers, carpenters, waitresses and machinists. Beautiful white-haired great-grandmothers with crystal blue eyes were not uncommon.
Thousands of people were coming and going every hour, but I never saw a single cop.
A few folks were in a hurry to catch their next bus, but most were strollers and window shoppers.
Many would grab a cone or some crepes or a haircut or a dress at Daytons before they moved on to their destination. Some would choose to make the trek to the Greek deli over on Hennepin. The blue collar boys might hit Frank and Joe’s or Joe and Frank’s for some of their damn good 24-hour a day breakfast.
Small shops of every variety on the mall and close by on the side streets served the peaceful Eloi of the City of Lakes. It would have been easy to imagine you were in Sweden or Norway or some other racially-homogeneous Northern European city where the purpose of life was living.
Women were not clutching their purses. Nobody was cowering in a doorway. Nobody was nervously surveying their surroundings.
Not a goddamn nigger in sight anywhere.
One more story to tell about Minneapolis. Mentioning Joe and Frank’s and Frank and Joe’s 24-hour a day breakfast reminded me of it.
I’m talking about Curly’s Diner over south on Lake Street near Minnehaha. It was started during the Great Depression with a loan that was part of the New Deal.
Curly’s made it through the rest of the depression. It weathered the shortages of WW2. It survived the suicide of Curly’s wife after her three-year bout of depression after they lost 2 of their 3 sons in Korea. It prospered during the years of protests at the nearby Recruitment Center during the Viet Nam war. It rode out the reign of Jimmy Carter and his deep recession that gutted the manufacturing on the south side.
Curly’s had a sign by the front door that proudly proclaimed that their front door had never been locked since the day they opened. Customers had hid out in their cooler during tornadoes more than once, and they had dined on gas grilled burgers by candlelight during the resultant power outages.
Then, in the late eighties, Curly’s became a popular evening and all night hangout for the youths who had migrated from Chicago and Detroit with their single moms who sought those generous Minnesota benefits.
The boards went over Curly’s windows in 1993.
These stories of pre-multi cult MN break my heart. But why? Why? What supernatural force is driving the blight across our finest communities? Is no community safe from “enrichment”? Who stands to gain?
As a Minnesotan, I can tell you there is no hope for this state. Whites here are your enemies. While being murdered by a vibrant mob, the average Minnesotan would die mouthing racial pieties. We’re a well-behaved and conformist folk.
Playing roots backwards- You know the Mary Tyler Moore opening song on her old TV show? THAT is MY Minneapolis!!!
I used to take the bus downtown as a HIGH SCHOOL Student, and spend most of the afternoon at the Library (yea, I was a geek, even then) and then eat Apple Pie with Cinnamon Ice Cream at Powers, look in the Dayton’s windows, and usually never had more than $5 in my pocket, with which I could take the bus to and from the outer suburbs, buy lunch, and maybe a comic book, or a paperback novel at one of the used book stores.
Now, all we seem to have is ‘Them Trayvon’s gonna get us, after all!’
(just listen to the MTM refrain)
Hey, Lawful Neutral, Wanna get together and have a cuppa? 🙂
damnyankees have been our enemy for generations and there is a small part of me that says “good, the damnyankees are getting their due.” However there is another part of me that would prefer them to wake the hell up and join Team White Race.