Shabbat Group Learns The #TruthAboutSelma

I saw them walking through Selma on Saturday night.

It was the weirdest thing. I had never seen so many Orthodox Jews in Selma before. They looked out of place walking toward the highway strip that is cluttered with chain hotels and fast food restaurants. It turns out what I was seeing was a group of Orthodox Jews who had come to Selma on a solidarity mission from DC:

“Traditional Jews refrain from carrying money, working on the Sabbath or driving—something that precipitated mile and a half walks to and from a Selma motel where they were staying.

Police provided security during the long walks in darkness and drew praise from walkers unfamiliar with the territory.

Herzfeld said the purpose of the group’s visit was to “educate ourselves about the civil rights movement” in the community where violent voting rights events became embarrassments for the town 52 years ago. …”

I regret that I didn’t stop to talk to them about their Selma experience. It had gotten too dark to snap photos and my battery was running low and I left Selma on Saturday night to return home to write about ‘civil rights icon’ John Lewis:

“It was that simple notion of voting that lingered anxiously in my mind this past Shabbat as I walked for hours through the streets of Selma, Alabama. I was on a Martin Luther King weekend solidarity mission organized by my friend Rabbi Shmuel Herzfeld, who runs the modern Orthodox Ohev Shalom synagogue in Washington, D.C. A few months ago, at his Shabbat table, Herzfeld invited me join his community for the three-day journey to honor the civil rights movement. Having a teenage daughter who loves any idea that includes the words “social” and “justice,” I signed up for the adventure. …

But as we walked through streets with abandoned buildings and broken down homes, with one storefront after another peddling “pay day loans” and a boarded-up building with an old “Rite-Aid” sign, I couldn’t help thinking about the limits of Johnson’s “most powerful instrument ever devised by man.”

What good is the powerful freedom to vote if you’re living in a place that feels like an enormous prison with a Walmart? …

One of the few remaining Jews in Selma shared some candid thoughts with me about how Selma is often used by political leaders at all levels for “photo-opportunities”— to burnish their street cred for fighting for Black rights. …”

I would have loved to sit at that Shabbat table!

We could have had a real conversation about race. I would have been like, “so you came all the way from DC to visit Selma on Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend and after walking around town in The Current Year you learned the truth about Selma. How does it feel to have been lied to all these years by the fake news Lügenpresse?”

The Alt-Right can see it. The Shabbat group from Washington, DC sees it. Selma is a real place with real problems which in 1965 was transformed by the Lügenpresse into a symbol in a sacred Narrative. The sacred Narrative is a simple morality tale of good triumphing over evil. ‘Civil Rights Icon’ John Lewis was on the side of the saints and the martyrs who famously confronted Alabama state troopers on the Edmund Pettus Bridge. Everyone knows that white supremacists were defeated in Selma and the Voting Rights Act was passed.

The Edmund Pettus Bridge isn’t a bridge anymore. It is a magic bridge. It has a deeper meaning. You could call it the social justice bridge. By coming to Selma and walking over the magic bridge, you are like a Medieval pilgrim on a journey of penance, in this case for the modern day sin of racism; that simple act makes you a ‘good person’. You are visiting a holy place of the Civil Rights Movement. Obama recently invoked Selma as a symbol of progress in his Farewell Address (i.e., “from Selma to Stonewall”), but the truth is that the entire story of Selma was fake news which our ancestors lacked the means to combat at a time when the mass media was consolidated in the hands of a few liberal television networks and major leftwing newspapers which had a Narrative to push.

The Narrative neglects to mention the fact that Selma’s segregated downtown commercial district was largely dominated by Jewish businessmen. They were the ones who owned all these decimated, abandoned stores that the Shabbat group saw in modern day Selma. ‘Civil Rights Icon’ John Lewis participated in boycotts that wrecked Selma’s economy. Year after year, John Lewis parachutes into Selma for the photo op on the magic bridge. As time goes on and a younger generations forget real history, his actions in Selma become more and more legendary. He is forever the Horatio on the Selma Bridge.

But it is not 1965 anymore. The Fake News Lügenpresse is furious that President-Elect Donald Trump slammed ‘civil rights icon’ John Lewis and told him to focus on violent crime, blight, burning racial tension and poverty in his own district. Lewis is said to have a “free pass.” He is said to be beyond criticism and reproach by the media. In reality, Selma desperately needs us to shake things up and take John Lewis down a peg or two. We need John Lewis to stop marching in Selma for prosperity can return to the city.

The sorry state of Selma in 2017 reveals the truth of what President-Elect Donald Trump has been saying. Thanks to decades of fake news from the Lügenpresse, Selma has been transformed from the ‘Queen City of the Black Belt’ into a desolate, crime-infested, racially polarized wasteland that its own residents are abandoning. The local economy has been destroyed by John Lewis’s marching. Blacks control every level of power in Selma and overwhelmingly voted for Obama twice and Hillary in this past election.

The Shabbat group from Washington, DC came to Selma and saw “a place that feels like an enormous prison with a Walmart.” We completely agree. That’s what we saw too and all the marching in the world by John Lewis isn’t going to do anything about the crime, the poverty, the blight, the despair and the lack of economic opportunity – the real problems of the 21st century – that the Lügenpresse is hiding from the public in Selma.

About Hunter Wallace 12387 Articles
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  1. Scolding white men is the easiest setting in the game of life. These idiot jews if they were in a muslim country they wouldn’t say jack shit, they would spend their lives trying to figure out who to bribe and which family has to cough up a decent looking daughter to the local warlord.

    But “tru” conservative white men just love to be scolded, it gives them a sense of importance. Life in ‘Murka is like Mamie from Gone with the Wind scolding us ceaselessly.

  2. Pullease. ‘A real conversation about race’ is IMPOSSIBLE with a jew.

    The Alt Right has already been exposed by half.

    And BTW, I’ve been having ‘real conversations about race’ with a rare element of blacks for years.

    No such concept exists among the jews. THEY ARE ALWAYS PLAYING YOU.

  3. The father in this story is going to be blessed. His teenage daughter that loves the words social and justice may soon present him with a biracial child as evidence of her campaign against racism and justice.

      • They are driven by thousands of years of experience in the diaspora Mr. Owen, and, most especially, by a mantra from 2,500 years back, by a certain Rabbi Hillel.

        The part that is pertinent to your remark is this : ‘If I am not for myself, then who will be?’

  4. You think those Jews really expected to see the New Jerusalem? A Walmart prison? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

    • Even if they don’t deny it to themselves, Mr. Owen, or amongst themselves, they are not going home and starting a ruckus with their other Jewish Brethren, over the matter…

      • They are afraid to. Jews are very rough on those Jews they deem as heretics. They are going to adhere to the party line, not because they believe it, but because they afraid of retribution from petty,vindictive jerks who will ruin their lives. They, of all people, know what the tribe is capable of doing. Notice that even the Selma Jews (who were hurt the most) felt compelled to back peddle and validate what the Northern Jews had done to wreck their own finances.

        I read one article where a Hasidic Jewess committed suicide, because her own children had disowned her for leaving an abusive marriage to a man who would not give her a get (I guess it’s their approved bill of divorcement). Even though she wanted to marry another Jew (albeit from a Reformed sect).

        Also read another article which stated that Jewish heretics were not only executed but their bodies were disposed of in the town dump. Their families were not allowed to give their remains a proper burial.

        Modern day Jews either conform or they leave. Quietly. They have to. They know what ruthless people the tribe are made of. Fear of the Jews is not only with the gentiles, but within the Jews themselves.

        • Thank you for your carefully written reply, Mr. I Got You.

          I must admit that, as much as I might know, on the subject of Jews, I knew none of this.

          Have a fine afternoon!

  5. “How does it feel to have been lied to all these years by the fake news Lügenpresse?”

    “You mean my brother-in-law’s newspaper?”

    • Thanks for the “like,” Junius. Actually, that quip of mine was a feeble play on a gag by Jewish screenwriter William Goldman. As you’ll see in the following clip, from Marathon Man, Goldman has an acute sense of the ineluctable friction between Aryan and Jew. Laurence Olivier plays a fugitive Nazi who has come from Latin America to the U.S. to retrieve diamonds taken from Jews during World War II. In the course of the story, he has no choice but to go to New York City’s diamond district …

      • You’re welcome, John.

        ‘Ineluctable’… Wow, have not heard that semantick in a coon’s age!

        As to the clip, I’m not sure it is so emblematick, on an individual level, for the friction, because the fugitive Nazi is very pointedly contrasted in his consciousness of the adversarialism he feels to the Jews, which, though his mindset is shared by some, many do not seem to have it, or, at least, are not conscious of it.

        On the other hand, if extrapolated into a general symbolism of the two cultures mixing, then, yes, it is eerily accurate.

        As to the film, it was a great one, and one which many years had passt since I had seen.

        I remember a vignette from it – a contrast between Dustin Hoffman and Sir Olivier – and that was the enormous preparation Dustin Hoffman went to, to deprive himself of sleep, comfort, and food, to prepare for a certain scene; (method acting) and, when he showed up badly disheveled and out of sorts, Olivier askt him why he was in that state.
        When Hoffman explained, Olivier said, ‘Have you ever thought about trying to act?’

        • That story about Hoffman and Olivier rings a bell, Junius. It’s a great one—well, as long as we acknowledge that Hoffman, whatever were his methods, had no difficulty sharing the screen with Olivier in, yes, this great movie.

          Only as I rewatched the clip here, at Occidental Dissent, did I notice that Olivier, having initially smiled wanly at the salesman’s brother-in-law quip, eventually smiles at it genuinely, as if he, the Aryan, focused on his goal and a little slow on the uptake, only belatedly gets the joke and, in a way, appreciates the Jew.

          At 6:29—spoiler alert—of the clip below, there’s a similarly-deft move, this one by Hoffman. Having triumphed, at last, he becomes aware of the pain he has been suppressing during his desperate contest with Olivier. Up to the tooth that the torturing Olivier had destroyed goes a soothing swipe of his tongue …

          • I don’t have the time for a full reply, right now, John, but, only to say that ‘Marathon Man’, and, as well, ‘The Boys From Brazil’, always felt like fine unacknowledged sequels to this film – a sleeper, but, one which still has fine cinematick qualities…

          • Hmm. You’re probably right, Junius. Though I several times heard that title, “The Odessa File,” I never gave the work attention, had no idea, until your posting of this comment about it, of its subject. I guess it did spawn a Nazis-in-Latin-America genre.

            Maybe you’ve heard of the novel “The Portage to San Cristobal of A. H,” which came out in 1981. Never have I read it, but a friend of mine who became familiar with it around the time of its publication, I guess, told me about it. Maybe it qualifies as the fourth and final specimen of the genre …


          • No, John, I had not heard of this. Though I am well read before 1925, I am poorly read in the literature that has come after.

            I just know these things because they became American cinema.

          • Without getting into detail, Junius, I’ll say I envy your being well-read in any period. Because reading, for me, has been a slow, arduous process since my first years of elementary school, I myself have read very little by any serious standard.

            As to “The Portage to San Cristobal of A. H.,” well, I’ll leave you to guess who “A. H.” is.

            If you’ll hear me out for one more comment that requires a SPOILER ALERT, I’ll mention that “Marathon Man” well demonstrates screenwriting’s first rule: Tell the whole story on the first page …

            As you’ll be reminded by the YouTube clip below, the movie begins right where it ends, on the jogging track around the Central Park Reservoir. There, at the movie’s opening, Babe, the Dustin Hoffman character, is being driven—as we’ll come to understand by the movie’s end—by his core fear: that he’s weak, as he fears his father was weak. While he looks at his stopwatch, to check his running time, a fit male Aryan overtakes him and, in passing him, taunts him: “Behind schedule?” Right after that, the Aryan trots little-disturbed past an ill-mannered dog, which Babe then leaves the track to avoid. Just before pulling away from Babe, the Aryan gives him the finger.

            At the movie’s conclusion, when he has prevailed over his latter Aryan antagonist—namely, the Olivier character—Babe no longer needs to hold onto his father’s gun, the gun with which his father committed suicide. Upon emerging from the stone pump-house in which he has vanquished Olivier, he tosses the gun over the fence, into the reservoir’s water. The ripples spread just as the memory of the father’s suicide has rippled through Babe’s life since childhood, when Babe himself found his father dead beside the gun.

            “McCarthy was a Nazi,” Babe shouts, early in the story, and we come to learn that his father was charged with Communism by Senator Joe McCarthy. In the final confrontation, there in the pump-house, Olivier, who has had dealings with Babe’s brother—whom, in the course of the movie, Olivier murders—has no trouble reading Babe’s psychology. “You won’t [shoot],” he sneers, as Babe points the gun at him. “You can’t. You’re too weak. Your father was weak in his way, your brother in his, now you in yours.” And then, the final, anti-Semitic dig: “You’re all so predictable.”

            Decades ago, if I’m remembering this correctly, I saw a “Marathon Man” screenplay-draft that ended with a literary touch, i.e., something that was neither scene description nor dialogue and thus, in a sense, shouldn’t have been in the screenplay at all. It came right after that final moment, in which Babe walks away, down the jogging track. In the movie, we see him bucking the traffic of the joggers, to whom he is now indifferent. “He doesn’t have to run anymore,” the screenplay read.

            Here’s the opening …

          • If I tell you merely yes, I enjoyed the video, Junius, I will fail to communicate that it moved me. I’m grateful you brought it to my attention, and if you won’t mind telling me, I’ll be pleased to know how it came to yours. January 19, 1926, by the way, which is mentioned, at the piece’s head, as its subject’s birth date, happens to have been my father’s birth date, too.

          • I’m so glad you enjoyed it, John.

            I’m not surprised, as your particular genius is one that takes great delight in pondering the vicissitudinal dimensions of human life.

            It came to my attention because I am fascinated by people, and, most especially, by people who have to deal with the misfortune of surviving periods in history antithetical to them – whether it is a Jew in Nazi Germany, or the daughter of a former Standartenfuhrer having to make her way in a modern Jewish world.

            Also, I am a student of stories from lost civilizations – like pre-Bolshevik Orthodox Russian peasantry. It’s a big reason why I enjoy the short stories of Ivan Turgenev so much – most notably, his first famous work ‘A Hunter’s Sketches’, or the novels of Nikolai Leskov – the best writer of the mysteries of the Russian Orthodox way.

            Also, I am an avid amateur historian of lost German plantation lands – particularly Pomerania, which, for various reasons, appeals to my ‘Scythian’ soul for many reasons:)))

            Amazing the coincidence of birthdays. I suppose it was not my idea, but, now I suspect that The Lord was using me to say something to you, though, I have no idea what that might be.

          • How fortunate you are, Junius, to have had the appetite for such literature and such knowledge …

          • Perhaps you will like this, too – though, it is no short watch, and is from a very different world than the former I showed you.

            Watch it, some evening, when you are feeling reflectively whimsical.

            This story is the touching and bittersweet one of someone who lives long enough to become a ghost to her own life…

            God bless you!

          • Your observation, Junius, that Madame Blaché “[became] a ghost to her own life,” would be hard to top, I think, as a précis of her passage through the world. Thank you for the link to this valuable piece.

            Below, in case you’ll be interested, are two sets of images the piece prompted me to retrieve. On the left are three frames from the Mary Magdalene scene in Madame Blaché’s Vie du Christ, which the documentary treats from about 13:30 to 16:30. On the right, three frames from the American silent, Birth of a Nation.

            The difference is conspicuous. The Mary Magdalene scene is not only painterly but lucid. The moment from Birth of a Nation, on the other hand, discloses no sense of composition. Dr. Cameron, the Dixie patriarch, is obscured and must reach awkwardly to shake the hand of the first of the Northern friends to whom his family and he are saying goodbye, at a visit’s end. Yes, (director) D. W. Griffith knows that the main interest is the love-look that Cameron’s daughter, in the foreground, can’t help bestowing on one of the young Northern gentlemen, but that is no excuse for the scenic pileup that makes a mess of the moment.

            Without going to Wikipedia for confirmation, I’ll say I’m pretty sure D. W. Griffith had worked in the theater. Early in the documentary, Madame Blaché says, I think, that she had done some amateur theater. Only one of those two film directors proved to have been a true student of mise en scène


          • Oh, Dear John – not having checkt in for a while, I am just seeing this, now.

            I am so very glad that you had a look at the unique and historically anomalous life that was Alice Guy Blache’s.

            With regards to your observations of Alice’s work being ‘ painterly’, you do, I imagine, now realize that her background was in photography at Gaumont.

            Certainly you are right : D.W. Griffith’s background was in theatre. If I may, I now confirm that for you. Furthermore, Griffith honed his artistick values as a filmmaker by making shorts for nearly ten years before he got the financial backing to do ‘The Birth of a Nation’.

            In this film he took the uneven and somewhat slow-moving best-seller of that time, ‘The Klansmen’, by my fellow Tarheel, Reverend Thomas Dixon and made the definitive Southern history of The War of Northern Aggression.

            In fact, Vermont Yankee, Ken Burns, later admitted that he posed his monumental documentary series, ‘The Civil War’, as a Northern rebuff to Griffith/Dixon’s work.

            In this great film, Griffith establisht the first principles of what would come to be considered, ‘American Filmmaking’, and those are…

            #1. Tempo, tempo tempo – everything moving to a frenzied peak.

            #2. Action.

            #3. The view is that of the subjective individual.

            #4. Emphasize the big picture, not the details.

            #5. Edit, edit, edit.

          • Your mention that Thomas Dixon was from North Carolina has prompted me to examine his biography, Junius. I’m surprised to see he’d had quite a success as both a minister and a lecturer; I suppose I’d thought he’d been little known except as the author of the novel that had become “Birth of a Nation.” Well–this is interesting: Link Wray and Thomas Dixon both identified, for me, as men of North Carolina, in a short span. I see, too, that Dixon was well educated, at Wake Forest.

            Below, I’ll post a photograph from Wikipedia’s entry about Alice Guy-Blaché. I quite like it.

            I appreciate, too, your having identified Ken Burns as a man of Vermont. Having given his work little attention, I’d known nothing about him and had thought him a Southerner.

          • Your mention that Thomas Dixon was from North Carolina has prompted me to examine his biography, Junius. I’m surprised to see he’d had quite a success as both a minister and a lecturer; I suppose I’d thought he’d been little known except as the author of the novel that became “Birth of a Nation.” Well–this is interesting: Link Wray and Thomas Dixon both identified, for me, as men of North Carolina, in a short span. I see, too, that Dixon was well educated, at Wake Forest.

            Below, I’ll post a photograph from Wikipedia’s entry about Alice Guy-Blaché. I quite like it.

            I appreciate, too, your having identified Ken Burns as a man of Vermont. Having given his work little attention, I’d known nothing about him and had thought him a Southerner.


          • Most important for you to understand, John, from my point of view, is that not only was Dixon an educated Man of God, he was a Southern Klansman, and a strong advocate of Southern Nationalism, before such a title was coined.

            At the time The University of Wake Forest did not exist, per se, but, was a Baptist seminary, at the small town of Wake forest, right outside Raleigh – though, in those days it was a long stagecoach ride.

            The seminary packt up, right after WWII, and moved two hours west to Winston Salem, where, gradually, it became a large multi-purpose university.

            The country preacher, where I attend services, attended part of his curriculum in the same old stone buildings on the olde Wake Forest seminary campus, and received his Doctor of Divinity from it.

            At the time Dixon wrote, ‘The Klansmen’, he was living in Chapel Hill – which was and is the central home of The University of north Carolina – it, since WWII a mass producer of anti-White Southern scalawags.

            Thank you for your attentive and thoughtful comments, here. and the photo.

            Miss Alice was mighty fetchin’ back in the day!

            As to Ken Burns – he is a died in the wool New England Yankee, which, if you watch his series carefully, you cannot fail to see his bias.

            That said, he tried very hard to be fair, within that Liberal New England bias.

          • Thanks for the clarification, re Wake Forest, Junius.

            In a bank the other day, I heard a black teller, female, address an elderly white woman as “Miss Margaret,” rather as you’ve just now referred to Alice Guy-Blaché as “Miss Alice.” In each case, the usage might not have been pure. The teller might have been avoiding a surname of whose pronunciation she was unsure, and you might have been employing the faux-rural diction with which you sometimes entertain me. Even so, I was struck that the teller’s use of that form of address was a holdover from her Southern ancestry; I’ve heard it used by other blacks here, in Philadelphia.

          • Dear Mr. John,

            In eastern North Carolina – all people with whom we are yunfamiliar are addresst as ‘Sir’, and ‘M’am.

            On the other hand, if we are familiar with them, but not their equals, we refer to them as Miss or Mr. such and such.

            This way we express warmth and affection, while still preserving respect and rank.

            This goes back to the plantation days when all our Negroes referred to their owners as ‘the Missus’ or ‘The Mastuh’, and when addressin’ us dyrec’lee, called us ‘Mastuh such and such’.

            We are very comfortable with this, but, to those who are not from here, or are from our big federalized cities, it’s sounds wildly eclectick. for sure.

          • ‘Even so, I was struck that the teller’s use of that form of address was a holdover from her Southern ancestry;’

            Most Blacks, John, no matter where they go in the 50, are and remain Southern, whether they know it or not.

            Their speech, their diet, their worship, many of their attitudes etc, etc, bear the eternal mark of what their ancestors exchanged down here, with us.

            Modern North Carolina, apart from New England Government interference, is a product of that exchange.

          • Back in 1980 or ’81, Junius, a young black fellow whom I was giving a lift home from work, out in the Los Angeles area, made a reference to “hot water cornbread.” When this drew a blank from me, he was astonished, as if I’d said I’d never heard of, say, ice cream.

            I have no doubt you’re right about the enduring effects of that historic exchange.

          • Dear John,

            Talking to Mr. Owen about BBQ, I posted this video to him, but, along the way, thought you might enjoy this, as well.

            In this video, you will see how life is with us, and how it has always been. And you’ll see how our culture has been made by a certain process orientation, and, as well, how folks in Northeastern North Carolina get on with each other, in the midst of that.

            Because you have an innate understanding of subtlety and symbolism, you’ll pick up on many other things, as well.

            This is life in North Carolina – outside of the big cities.

            I hope this little video journey of our Southern world brings you joy.

          • Thank you so much, Junius. Watched it twice and forwarded the link to my friend of half a century.

            If you won’t mind my going on, I’ll mention four of the documentary’s details that struck me …

            2:35 – Owner of the pecan tree that was ruined by the storm knows that the tree was seventy years old.

            1:39 and 1:45 – Names of the parents are “Roosevelt” and “Ella”

            7:07 – “Upstate,” as voiced by the pitmaster, reflects the history of South Carolina’s settlement, “up” from the coast, toward the Piedmont. He means the state’s west, not its north.

            9:17 – “It’s tender enough I don’t have to have a knife.” Not sure why this remark from the mother struck me.

            The following graphic includes info about Joe York, the very-skillful filmmaker. Google, of course, enabled me quickly to learn something about him …


          • John, I’m so glad you enjoyed. I thought you might.

            As always, I appreciate your keen eye for detail.

            Concerning the owner and the pecan tree, his intimacy is a great indicator of the relationship the rural Tarheel has with his property, which was likely his parent’s property, or something within a mile or two whence he arose, as a laddie.

            There are many Negroes, down here, with a first name of ‘Roosevelt’.

            Both he and Lincoln Tarheel Negroes love to pieces.

            One of my neighbours is a Negro named Roosevelt. He is the assistant foreman of our town, and supervises a crew of younger Negroes who keep the town in shape.

            Yes, ‘upstate’ is a reference to elevation, NOT latitude.

            The tender remark is characteristick of Negreos, as they are very thoughtful about all the aspects of sensuality – earthiness, you might say.

            Bless you and Good night!

          • Many of us are like that about our trees, John.

            I remember one day the power company sent some tree contractors to trim the holy hell out of our best and oldest tree.

            I gave them holy hell, and, fearing that I might be some form of Confederate ISIS, they trimmed not much and skedaddled…

          • I’m glad those contractors knew enough to steer clear of you in your just cause, Junius.

            You’ve reminded me of words I can still hear in the Sicilian accent of my paternal grandfather, who said them to me forty or so years ago—in the mid-to-late ’70s, I’d guess. The tall apple tree that had been standing in his back yard as far back as my memory extended was soon to be removed, maybe because it had died. At his kitchen table, where he and I were seated, he took up one of its last apples and, with a paring knife or maybe his pocket knife, prepared to cut some slices of it for both him and me.

            “So you’ll remember,” he said.

          • Thank you, John, I am the friendliest of people, but, if you badmouth Chryst, or try to hurt my wife, North Carolina, or old trees, I am quickly a nightmare.

            I love this story. So poignant. Thank you for honouring his honouring of his fallen friend – the apple tree, by remembering.

            My daddy’s people. egregious faults though they have, always emphasize remembrance as a sacred tenet.

            I agree with that, because I believe strongly that by remembering someone or something that has been your benefactor, particularly when there is nothing to gain, you demonstrate the highest form of love – loyalty.

            Loyalty is the most sacred form of humanity, and, also, I note, a bit rarified.

            I remember one day, when I was living in New England, I was on one of my customary daily sojourns, and looking forward to seeing a friend of mine – a 150 year old Mulberry tree that stood with utter perfection of form and placement over a lovely example of French 2nd Empire Mansard architecture, when, rounding the corner, I was horrified to see that it had vanisht; it having been taken down, in the few days since I had been there.

            Unfortunately, I lackt your papaw’s genius for symbolick gestures, and, instead, spent the rest of the day trying to meditate off my hostilities towards humanity in general.

          • As I see your list there, Junius, of the entities in whose defense you become “quickly a nightmare,” I think it a good one. May you long
            have the vigor to defend them well.

            Fortunate was that New England scene, I’d say, to have been appreciated by you, who have preserved it here, at Occidental Dissent. The hostile meditating in which you engaged on the day you learned of the tree’s disappearance was not unworthy. It was the first form of the block you’ve put in place, between that scene and oblivion.

            Thank you for your gracious remark about my grandfather, whose brief action those decades ago I’m glad you appreciated. As to loyalty: I’m fortunate enough to have been on the receiving end of much of it—and to have been forgiven more than once, when I failed to demonstrate it.

          • Thank you, Sir.

            Thank you for your touching empathy and sincere understanding.

            Though we are separated by nations, we are together in kindred soul.

            Concerning loyalty ; youngsters sometimes falter, BUT, hopefully it is not a permanent trend.

            I always liket that belt buckle, which read : ‘Meine Ehre HeiBt Treue’.

            Thank you for sharing so much of yourself with me. it’s a gift i take not for granted.

          • You’re welcome, Junius. Thank you for the reference to that belt-buckle motto, of which I was unaware. Having Googled its provenance, I see how it comports with your interests.

          • Dear John,
            Not far from our house is a hidden gem of North Carolina – the antebellum boomtown of Warrenton NC.

            The birthplace of many famous Tarheels (Nathaniel Macon – Jesse Helms’s idol) and Confederate Generals Bragg and Robert and Matt Ransom, it is the place where Yankee Horace Greeley stole a Southern bride, just as it also is a place where stunning homesteads line the streets.

            In fact, the seat of Warren County, as are most classick Eastern North Carolinian towns – located on a rock formation at the hilly top of the flood plain – has done precious little changing since the Victorian Age.

            Here you will see a Main St. still entirely intact – from the Confederate Soldier in stone presiding over the courthouse, to the unbroken chain of stores occupying it, and meet some of the folks I know in the town; and, in so doing, experience why so many migrate to our state – friendly down home people who have lots of things they would like to conversate you on, in the midst of living history.

            Hope you enjoy…

          • In learning, via Wikipedia, Junius, that Warrenton was named after the New Englander Joseph Warren, who died at Bunker Hill, I was saddened to think that the descendants of the English who fought together in the Revolutionary War are now divided, North from South, as I never really knew before I came to Occidental Dissent. Maybe I have missed something, but I’d guess that the small-town life that has been preserved in Warrenton has been preserved in places in the North, too. The narrator acknowledges as much, when he describes Warrenton as “the quintessential small town—Southern style.” In characterizing the place, he can’t avoid recourse to the name Norman Rockwell, who, unless I’m mistaken, has never been associated with the South—not in particular, anyway.

            Speaking of New Englanders, you needn’t lament Horace Greeley’s having purloined a Southern belle. Though the woman Greeley married did serve—only briefly, apparently—as a teacher in Warrenton, where Greeley and she were married, she, too, seems to have been a New Englander.

            With a nod to your ancient brethren of the North, I’ll leave you with an image and a song. The former is John Trumbull’s “The Death of General Warren at the Battle of Bunker’s Hill, June 17, 1775.” The latter is by Randy Newman and has to do with a place that’s, well, outside the South …


          • ‘In learning, via Wikipedia, Junius, that Warrenton was named after the
            New Englander Joseph Warren, who died at Bunker Hill, I was saddened to
            think that the descendants of the English who fought together in the
            Revolutionary War are now divided,’

            Dear John,
            You can carry out your thinking to being saddened that Southerners and Northerners ever had to fight their English and Hessian cousins, whatsoever.
            I’ll agree with you ; it is sad; yet, when the JewEngland Empire passt the currency act, which Ben Franklin credited with being the one real cause of that war, there really were only two choices – war or submission.
            Unfortunately, nobody has ever contrived any other method to deal with bullies than administering an ass-whoopin’ for as long as such takes, for them to get the point.

            On the other hand, you divining of a certain kinship between Warrenton and New England is spot on. Certainly, my wife and I have always compared Warrenton to western Vermont towns, like Poultney and Brandon, which arose at the same time in history.
            That said, we feel this way because of the town layout and architecture, not because of the human culture, which, if the truth be told, is quite a bit different than New England.
            Warrenton is the ultimate Norman Rockwell place, of North Carolina – friendly, cozy, traditional, and down-home.
            On an amusing note, my town was founded by New Englanders, and I live in a house that was built by talented negro slave artesans for the wealthy Irish-Bostonian merchant who made his fortune here.
            In my town, even more so than in Warrenton, you can feel the old country, and the atmosphere of Rip van Winkle, which is why our state was called that, a couple of centuries ago.
            Thank you for the heroick painting. It’s very expressive and pleasing to the eye.

          • Maybe one day, Junius, I’ll have an opportunity to compare Southern towns like Warrenton with New England towns like the ones you’ve mentioned. I’ll see whether I’m struck, as you are, by a difference in the people’s ways.

            Before I sign off, I’ll link one more of Randy Newman’s works, this one with a Southern subject …

          • Listening to this ditty by Randy Newman, it strikes me as interesting that he has made a fortune writing and rewriting this kind of song, over and over again – that musical tidbit that is the touching nostalgia which comes with the scar tissue of burnt whimsey from youthful wrecks.

          • An excellent description, Junius, of the distinctive Newman artifact.

            Decades ago, I heard someone—Gore Vidal, maybe—remark that every dramatist has in his or her head a repertory company, from whose membership he constructs his or her every play. After going on to say that in Shakespeare’s case, that mental repertory company was large, he said that that of Tennessee Williams was small, consisting of only a handful of characters, but that those few characters were always deployed by Williams to great effect.

          • Thank you, John – I issued the stream of modifiers just for you!

            Vidal was right.

            Each artist is working with components that fascinate, enthrall, and or gall him – and, though the landscape changes, this much does not.

            The landscape of the human soul. ‘Tis a fascinating thing.

            And Tennessee Williams is a fascinating example; though, I would posit likewise for William Faulkner, Fannie Flagg, Edgar Allan Poe, Horton Foote, and Eudora Welty. and a few Yankees – such as Ambrose Bierce, Henry James, and Washington Irving.

            Hawthorne was an exception – his work being all over the place, though, always in New England.

            Being of a gothick stripe, Hawthorn is probably my favourite novelist, as Poe is my favourite short story man.

            These authors know the grandeur of even the simplest human soul, and manipulate it, through confrontations in the plot, to reflect the majesty of The Lord’s great creation – the human soul.

          • In the graphic below, Junius, your restatement of Vidal’s point is revealed as literally true: the landscape changes—but what has its hold on the artist’s mind does not.
            The graphic’s two paintings are by Benjamin West, of whom John Trumbull, who painted the Bunker Hill scene, was a student. The upper painting shows the death of British General Wolfe at the Battle of Quebec; the lower shows the death of Admiral Nelson at Trafalgar. This seems to me almost a sub-genre, which, as far as I, with my very-limited knowledge of the subject am aware, was created by West.
            Allow me to say again that I envy you your acquaintance with so much fine writing. I myself am not well read.

          • Thank you so very much for your kindness, John.

            I very much respect your depth and your eye for detail, and your ability to make far-reaching metaphors from those things.

            The Lord must have thought very highly of you when he put your soul together, for he does not pass out such things, in such abundance, commonly.

          • Some of this is as we have discusst – an artist working on the same spirutal landscape.

            that said, some of it is the technique of an advancet painter, such as :

            #1, The diagonal pull of the composition implies a sense of motion; and, thus, makes it dynamick

            #2. The assymetry of the composition excites the brain of the viewer to get drawn in and make judgements for himself.

            #3.The use of one main colour (red in the first and dark blue in the second) is contrasted with, primarily, a second hue – (green in the first and red in the second) which creates a sense of vibrancy.

            #4. He is very careful to create at least four layers of depth perspectives in each composition, so as to give the eye the feeling that it could roam around the painting, quite a bit, and yet never exhaust the potential for revelation.

            #5. The wrenching contrast between someone crossing over, and those powerless to prevent it, staying behind, in this realm.

            On a smaller not,e he must have been a fine landscape painter, at some point, for his clouds are positively enthralling.

            This man really knew what it was to see.

          • I’d guess an art instructor would ratify your identification of West’s devices, Junius. Below is another of his dramatic cloud scenes—a Biblical one.

            West was born in what could now be called the Philadelphia suburbs but before the Revolutionary War and thus as a British subject. Around the end of the French and Indian War, which he memorialized with the painting of the death of Wolfe, he landed in England. There, he became known as the “American Raphael,” and there he died.


          • Thank you, John.

            This work seems a bit of an earlier work, as his handling of things is, on a technical level, not quite so sublime.

            In this you see his directional experiments with the mountains and sky, but, they don’t quite come off.

            One thing he loves – and that is an enormously complex composition.

            Thank you so much.

          • Griffith’s work still remains at the top of my alltime list, which is, as follows…

            #1. The Birth of a Nation – Griffith

            #2. Barry Lyndon – Kubrick

            #3. Being There – Sellers.

            #4. Josey Wales – Eastwood/Carter

            #5. The Shining – Kubrick

            #6. Fried Green Tomatoes – Flagg

            #7. Casablanca – Curtiz

            #8 – Little Big Man – ?

            #9 – Pit & the Pendulum – Price/Corman

            #10. Young Frankenstein – Brooks

          • That, I would say, is a creditable Top Ten, Junius. Four things that came to my mind …

            1 A friend with whom, for reasons I needn’t detail, I am no longer in touch—a friend from elementary school—might include in a Top Ten of his own, three of yours: “Barry Lyndon,” “The Shining,” and “Josey Wales.” In fact, he bought the Josey Wales poster, which, in frat-boy style, he mounted on the inside of the door of the basement bathroom of what I think was the first house his wife and he bought, here in Philadelphia. I remember being startled by the sight of it when I closed that door on the one occasion on which I used that facility. In retrospect, I commend his wife for her indulgence.

            2 Although I’d have trouble assembling a Top Ten of my own, any list of my favorites would include two of yours: “Being There” and “Little Big Man.” (Arthur Penn, by the way, was the director of the latter.)

            3 My favorites would probably include a Griffith work and a Kubrick work, as do your favorites, though mine would be “Broken Blossoms” and “2001.” “Broken Blossoms,” incidentally, comes to my mind whenever I reflect that “the asshole”—i.e., a person who gratuitously challenges others’ dignity, in the course of the common day—seems to be exclusively a white type. Yes, there is a high incidence of criminality among blacks—in their life in the white-wrought world, anyway—but I don’t know that I’ve ever encountered either a black or an East Asian who would be termed, to restate that vulgarism, an asshole. The scene, near the beginning of “Broken Blossoms,” in which the (white) American sailors are giving a Chinaman a hard time in a Chinese port captures the type.

            4 Among male Americans born in the 1950s, I might be in a minority in having never seen “The Pit and the Pendulum”; but my favorites would probably include another of the Roger Corman movies that showed up at the Saturday matinées of my boyhood. That would be “Bucket of Blood.”


          • Yes, John, I bet Josey Wales would be startling to you, as he was, and is, an out and out Southern Confederate hero.

            In fact, the book -‘Going West’, was written by former Alabama Imperial Wizard, Asa Carter – the man from whom Eastwood purchaset the script, and, yes, the man who wrote Governor George Wallace’s most memorable speeches, and, yes, the man who reinvented himself as ‘Forrest Carter’, and wrote the hugely successful new age tale ‘The Education of Little Tree’, which is a story about White Southerners being persecuted by Bluebellies, but, which Carter told through the guise of an Indian hero.

            Don’t know Asa Carter?

            When time suits, have a gander at this recent New England Government film. Though it’s propaganda, intended to warn current people away from The League of the South, it still is a very interesting tale of the life of Asa Carter, in and of itself.

          • Thank you for the link, Junius, but I must tell you that I myself have linked that Asa Carter documentary here, at Occidental Dissent. In fact, I linked it twice, over the past year or two. Its function as propaganda, as you say, was lost one me, but I found the story fascinating—quite unlike anything else I can think of, actually.

            As to my being startled by the Josey Wales poster: I hadn’t any idea at the time that the Wales character was a Confederate figure. It was the screaming visage, up-close and personal, in a bathroom about six feet square, that got my attention.

          • ‘Broken Blossoms’? if you mean that film with Donald Crisp as the White sadist and his submissive daughter, played by Lillian Gish, with Richard Barthelmess as the would-be Chinese hero, then, yes – i know the film well.

            It’s a hard film to watch, but, truly great.

            Yes, that particular kind of ‘asshole’ is solely a White creation.

            Every race has it’s devils, and that one is truly White.

            In Eastern North Carolina, too many men like to beat their women as a hobby. It’s the one thing I rue about my part of the world, and my extended family.

            The Southern White race make good soldiers because it has a tendency to produce hard men. that said, this has been largely attenuated by the cultural war waged upon us by the New England Government, and their proxies – the media and the academick institutions.

            We don’t produce the extent and amount of assholes that we uset to produce, and while the advantage might be readily ascertainable to you, the disadvantage is that we have grown weak, lax, and soft.

            This time in history is a very bad vintage for White Southerners.

            I pray this changes, and that we get back that cocky and unself questioning elan of our great great great granddaddies.

          • I suppose you’re right, Junius, that Griffith lays the Coarse-Whites-versus-Spiritual-Chinaman on a little thick in “Broken Blossoms,” but I like it. Griffith and I share a sentimental streak, I guess.

          • Yes, you are in a minority of those that have not seen ‘The Pit & The Pendulum.’

            Yet, in all fairness, I have not seen ‘Bucket of Blood’

            I have, however, most of the Corman/Price/Poe films, and I treasure them.

          • That is great, Junius, that you have all those films. In the latter part of my elementary schooling, I had a volume of Poe stories, as I recall; and I was particularly eager to read “The Pit and the Pendulum” (as I did), because the movie had been mentioned with such enthusiasm, years earlier, by chums of mine.

            Below is a frame from about the four-minute-mark of a 1978 documentary called “Roger Corman: Hollywood’s Wild Angel.” It shows a Corman shot in which a gang of motorcycle riders is cruising toward and past the camera. Because increased copyright-surveillance at YouTube means the documentary is no longer available there without Spanish over-dubbing, I can’t tell you what are the exact words of the narration at that moment; but when I saw the documentary, back in 1978, that narration, which amused me, was something like the following:

            “Scorned in America, Corman is admired by French critics, who regard his films as a desperate cry from the heart of a fast-food culture.”


          • ‘ Yes, there is a high incidence of criminality among blacks—‘

            The inclination has always been there, John.

            The only way to keep it down is to have something similar to what we did have. Maybe half of all Black males don’t need such a thing, but, the other half do, as the Northern system of justice (where punishment is out of view and remote seeming) does not compute to them.

          • I thought of a few more favourites, John…

            #11, Cobb

            #12. Baby Boom

            #13. Groundhog Day

            #14. Blazing Saddles

            #15. Europa Europa

            #16. Vatel

            #17. Driving Miss Daisy

            #18. The Ballad of Cable Hogue

            #19. Jeremiah Johnson

          • Let me add these, too…

            #20. You Can’t Take it With You

            #21. Mr. Deeds Goes to Town

            #22. It’s a Wonderful Life.

            #23. The Stranger

            #24. The Revenge of The Pink Panther

            #25. The Pink Panther Strikes Back

          • No, no, Junius—even in the days when I saw movies regularly, I saw very few of them. I acquired nothing like your knowledge of and exposure to them. Of these fifteen worthy movies you’ve added to your list of favorites, I’ve seen only three, being “Blazing Saddles,” “The Ballad of Cable Hogue,” and “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

            Since there are three Frank Capra films on your list, I’ll mention a very-brief exchange I was privileged to have with Mr. Capra himself, almost forty years ago. As I was standing behind him, in a public area, he was saying goodbye to some members of an audience that had just heard him be interviewed, in person. Having been in that audience myself, I waited until there was, at last, a pause in his remarks to the others. “Mr. Capra,” I said; and as he turned to face me, I said, “I just want to say thank you.” Evidently, it was clear to him that I was thanking him for his work, not merely for his presence at the interview, for he looked me right in the eye and said, “Thank you. That means a lot.”

            When I saw “The Ballad of Cable Hogue” on your list, I was reminded of that movie’s moment when Jason Robards says, as he sees Stella Stevens in a doorway, “Now, that is a picture.” I confess that that’s all I remember of that movie, but evidently, someone else was impressed enough by it to upload to YouTube the scene that includes it …


          • Yes, the myriad subtle complexities of Olivier’s performance, is fantastick.

            Yes, this haunted an poetically macabre ending comes back to me.

            That said, I see it through very different eyes than I saw it in 1980.
            In those days, 98.98% of all Americans, in all states, saw Oliver’s character as the bogeyman, and Hoffman’s character as a perfect symbol for just the ordinary middling democratick Jewish American man trying to avoid being caught up in unspeakeable evil.

            Now that the government no longer has strict control over the media, it’s less easy to see either character, or culture they represent, as the hero or the anti-hero.

            Now, to me, they just seem like two very different fellows who have had the misfortune to come across each other, and now there is going to be a competition, with big stakes for either.

            Perhaps the last scene is prophetick for what has occurred since 1940 – the Nazi German unwittingly stabbing himself and his Jewish adversary, surviving at the top of the ladder, and seemingly alone, facing his future without his key nemesis – the enemy who understood him so well, that he comprehended things about Dustin, that Dustin has not yet quite comprehended, himself, about himself.

  6. On the ‘doxing’ of The Right Stuff

    The way I see it, the value of TRS was as Alt-Riot. They were riotous and funny in the tradition of Shock Radio: Steve Dahl, Howard Stern, Larry Lujack, and even Rush Limbaugh at his jokiest.


    They are most renown for their radio personalities, and they have wit and chemistry. Other shows may be more serious and informative, but you can’t ‘rock’ to them.

    TRS was like a hangout place for comedy and relief. Sometimes, we gotta unwind and laugh a little, and that means irreverence and even a bit of immaturity. And Fash the Nation and Daily Shoah did this pretty well.

    I never heard an entire show of either. I never listened to them for deep thought, news, or information. It was just good times and fun.

    So, I think we need to make a distinction between Alt-Right, which is about real ideas and serious discussion, AND Alt-Riot, which is a hangout place for Alt-Right to have some run with irreverence, jokes, and upmanship.


  7. This is the classic Jew bait and switch; create a problem, and then offer expensive, enslaving solution.

    • In this case, Miss Denise, I don’t see it as that.

      What I see is a repetitive pattern by The New England Government and it’s Jewish allies – to attempt to foist their values on the rest of the world, and to hell with what happens to anybody, in the process – just so long as the world is forcet to play on their terms.

  8. ‘The Edmund Pettus Bridge isn’t a bridge anymore. It is a magic bridge. It has a deeper meaning. You could call it the social justice bridge.’

    Sir, The bridge is a symbol of battlefield victory for the coalition against The White South – that of Negroes, Yankees, (Jews and Gentile, alike) and The New England Yankee Government.

    It’s a symbol for them where they took power from us.

    That’s where the magick lies for them, and that is it’s true symbol.

  9. ‘The Narrative neglects to mention the fact that Selma’s segregated
    downtown commercial district was largely dominated by Jewish

    The modern Jewish community is entirely Yankee-Jew run. They neither remember, nor wish to remember, their Southern brethren, who were happy living in, and catering to, a White Supremacist Southern plantation society.

    Sir, as you reported, in your fine article on Selma, in 2014 – it makes many, on many sides, uncomfortable to know that Southern Jews did not have any desire to participate in, trumpet, or foist on others modern notions of diversity, multiculturalism, or equality.

    Those Southern Jews, however, have died away, and, as those towns that gave rise to them have died, economically, that culture is dead.

    Effectively, there are no Southern Jews left, because all those Jews left in The South, at this time in history, now live in New England Yankee government occupied cities, and, thus, are the same anti-White diversity mongerers as are the vast majority of all others in such places.

    • There are a lot of jews in northern Virginia and Miami Beach. But I imagine real Southerners don’t consider those places to be part of the True South any longer.

      • Right, Mr. Kleinfeld – those places as ‘South geographically’, but, not in any other way. In fact, I think of Northern Virginia as the new Yankee state of Columbia, and Southern Florida as another new Yankee state – ‘Tel Havana’ …

  10. In looking into Selma’s history, I was surprised—as I probably should not have been—by a connection between that town and the Romantic literature that, as Mark Twain more-or-less said, triggered the Civil War. In co-founding the town, William Rufus King used the name of the capital or castle or whatever it was of Finn MacCool in the poems that James Macpherson claimed to have translated from the Celtic bard Ossian.

    King, whom I’ve mentioned here before, at Occidental Dissent, was briefly Vice President under Franklin Pierce and had been a pro-slavery Senator from Alabama at the time of the passage of the Compromise of 1850. He died in April 1852, the month after he became Vice President, and is in a Selma crypt whose abandonment and decay are no more Romantic than the rest of that town’s ruin.

    Since the Ossian poems have a part in Goethe’s Sorrows of Young Werther, I was struck, too, by a Coleridge remark about the sort of woman who “sips a beverage sweetened with human blood, even while she is weeping over the refined sorrows of Werter or of Clementina.” In saying “sweetened with human blood,” Coleridge meant sweetened with sugar from slave plantations of the West Indies. He wouldn’t have been surprised by a pro-slavery poetry fan.

    As is known to readers of Occidental Dissent, it was Sir Walter Scott, not the Romantics in general, who, in Mark Twain’s suggestion, triggered the Civil War; but since Scott was among those who were influenced by Macpherson’s supposed translations of Ossian, I think it reasonable to speak of a connection between Twain’s remark and Selma.

    In the graphics below are a portion of Macpherson’s “Songs of Selma,” a view of William King’s crypt, and a portion of Coleridge’s text that includes the remark about the slave trade. Note Coleridge’s use of “Anti-Saccharite,” a term for those who, on abolitionist grounds, were opposed to the use of sugar.

    • Thank you for this great and fascinating post, John!

      I’m sorry most of the time most of us are unable to come up with stuff like this, for it is great and, indeed, very elucidating.

      It must be difficult for you to find company for yourself, locally, as most people will be instinctively averse to such brilliance, if only for the fact that the sound of your wheels would strike them as odd – their own wheels moving in exclusively banal and quotidian milieus.

      • You’re too kind, Junius, but thanks. I’m pleased you found the post valuable.

        The more I look at that crypt of William Rufus King, the more I think it tells the whole story of the South. In the mind of King, “Selma” rang like “Camelot” …

  11. Good clip. I can see where Southern Jews were a helluva lot different than their Northern brethren. Their Selma is gone too.

    • ‘Southern Jews were a helluva lot different than their Northern brethren.’

      Yes, Snowwhitey – the differences of Southern and Yankee Jews were large, and frequently ignored by those who tend to lump Finnish culture with that of New Zealand or of Miss’ippi, all because they are ‘White’.

      When I was a child, I knew these old Southern Jews, but, they, as are their former communities in small Southern plantation towns, are extinct now.

      It’s just another way that Selma is emblematick for culture, as a whole, in this country, and, indeed, in The South.

  12. The jewsmdia lies by omission more than commission. In other words their deliberate silence about the facts screams louder than the lies they actually do utter.

  13. Is anyone still unaware that Blacks are a problem to matter where they live on the planet? And, why do some Whites still rush to Africa to help Blacks survive to make more like themselves? It’s nuts. Let nature cull the herd.

  14. “The Narrative neglects to mention the fact that Selma’s segregated
    downtown commercial district was largely dominated by Jewish businessmen. They were the ones who owned all these decimated, abandoned stores that the Shabbat group saw in modern day Selma.
    ‘Civil Rights Icon’ John Lewis participated in boycotts that wrecked Selma’s economy.”

    As the article relates, there is a tiny remnant of a Jewish community still living in Selma. Since they obviously aren’t making much if any money in Selma, one can only assume that they are trapped there and can’t even afford to rent that old U-Haul and break out of that “open-air prison with a Wal-Mart.” They fell for the liberal premise that equal rights, equal opportunity, and a “level playing field” would enable Black culture to successfully assimilate to a Non-Black culture even though this has never happened in the history of the world. They stuck it out,, gambling that more Black empowerment would affect this assimilation and Selma would come back and with it, their wealth. And they lost.

    One has to wonder if those Jewish Yankee agitators who organized events like John Lewis’ March across the Edmund Pettus Bridge knew that at the time. If the Red Diaper Doper Babies that comprised the Ashkenazi immigrants from Eastern Europe didn’t know, that suggests no communication between them and the more established Sephardic communities throughout the South.

    If they did this despite knowing that the Sephardics had met with great success because they had been denied no opportunities even by the “bigoted” South, then that raises more interesting questions. Was this a coup staged by the Ashkenazis against the more established Sephardic community? Or did they simply regard bankrupting the Sephardic community as necessary collateral damage in their war against American WASPs?

    I’d be inclined to think the RDDB contingent didn’t know if not for the fact that we have George Soros and (((others))) financing Black Lives Matter burning down business districts owned by Jews all over the country. We have Open Borders Jewish organizations agitating for Muslims to be allowed in White Christian nations all over the world even after the notorious case of a young Jew who was enticed into a trap by a honeypot and was tortured to death by Muslims in one of those no-go enclaves where police and emergency first response teamspr fear to tread.

    The result is that Jews who have successfully established prosperous lives there often end up having to flee the violence with barely the shirts on their backs to no opportunities in Israel. As one French Jewish former pharmacy owner discovered. She’s eking out a minimal wage living stocking shelves for an Israeli pharmacy, because those who settled the country made sure any newcomers making Aliyah could not compete with them. If Muslims had been kept out of France, she’d be doing fine. Is that the point? Is Mossad behind all these Jewish organizations agitating for open borders to force successfully assimilated Jews dominating White Christian societies to assume servile, underpaid positions in the Israeli hierarchy?

    All of the prior 109 expulsions from their previous host countries were propelled by the native populations. But now there is a 110th expulsion going on in countries all over the world, but this time this is a series of self-expulsions from an unofficial pogrom consequential to subversive open borders agitation by other Jews. There There is a price to pay when groups that work to actively undermine the country that is your host are allowed to flourish. As the Jews of Selma discovered, it is not only the Gentiles who are stuck with the bill. DATGOY (Dark And Terrible God Of ironY) strikes again! (H/T to Compulsory Diversity News).

  15. What good is the powerful freedom to vote if you’re living in a place that feels like an enormous prison with a Walmart?

    An enormous prison with a Walmart? That seems to be the endgame for the New World Order/Globalist agenda, not just for Selma but the entire world. Destroy all national boundaries, tear down tradition, then replace countries with a world of cheap consumerism overseen by an omniscient surveillance state.

    That agenda saw one of its major offensives on 7 March 1965 when MLK and company marched across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. There really is a straight line which started with a war against White people in the 1960s — Long Hot Summer Riots, sanctions against Rhodesia-South Africa, massive social engineering in the USA, abandonment of European settlers in Algeria and Angola, “Rivers of Blood in Britain, etc. And the war continues through today — importation of the third world into the first, Rotherham, Cologne and BLM pillaging of cities.

    The critical thing is to get White (and for that matter, non-White) peoples to see the real enemy. And take action.

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