The New Sodom-on-the-Hudson

 "Nothing endures but change..." -- Heraclitus

One thing you can be certain of is that things change.

Whether the change is for the better, I reckon, is a matter of perspective. Much has changed about my native New York since I left it and returned these last two-plus years, and I find a good deal of it disturbing. But, there's that perspective thing: I remember an older New York that was once gritty and grimy, and then, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, returning to some of its former glory.

It seems to have slid back into the sewer, though.

So, here's a few examples that I have encountered in the approximately three weeks since I've come back to Staten Island, home of the Middle Class With No Class. In no particular order:

Diversity is Our Strength?
I was accosted by an aggressive panhandler last night. This asshole actually followed me into the local store where I buy my bootleg cigarettes (a pack of Marlboros now costs $19.50 in Gotham, because we have to hand out free needles and Narcan to drug addicts, ensure illegals get trans surgery and keep the useless alive for no other reason than to enable them to vote D). 

Being a New Yorker, I ignored the stupid fuck. He was at first requesting, and then demanding, that I give him money to buy a soda (this marked him as some kind of drug addict). At that point, the storekeep chased him out of the building, yelling at him in Arabic.

This was a first. In all of my 58 years, I have never encountered either a Muslim (I assume) drug addict or bum.

Dipshit waited outside the door to continue his persistent request that I supply him with something sugary as I made it back to my car. Without glancing at him even once, it would appear that my continuous demand that he fuck off went unheeded, at which point he spat upon my vehicle.

Now, this was definitely a first, but then again, it ties in perfectly with something else I've noticed since returning.

The hijabs.

Legions of them.

In fact, there is a local restaurant serving "Palestinian Food", which is something of a surprise, since I've been told by CNN that Palestinians don't have any. There are also various blurbs about "resistance" painted upon the walls outside.

I would not be shocked to one day discover that the only things being cooked up in that place would most likely be Anthrax and explosives.

Speaking of the Cubans of the Middle East (i.e., the professional "refugees"), one cannot travel 20' feet in these parts without running into yet another cluster of dumbfuck college kids screaming about the plight of said Levantine Douchebags, handing out leaflets full of inaccurate "history", whether you want one or not, and generally making a fucking nuisance of themselves by yelling slogans and performing street theater, supposedly in the name of some vague form of "justice".

Now, a friendly word of advice to all the Juicebox Marxists putting their fucktard on display for all to see:

You DO realize that no one gives a flying fuck at a rolling donut about anything you have to say, right?

All of your sloganeering, all of your chanting, all of your hunger strikes, capturing of college office buildings, marching, pamphleteering, leafletting, crying, stamping your feet, exhibiting not the slightest clue and emotional defenses of baby killers, rapists, sadists and murderers will change a single solitary thing. Not here, and certainly not in "Palestine" (I put that in quotes because it doesn't actually exist).

Much like an older generation that should have already fucked off and died, you are under the mistaken impression that anything you do, short of actually going to the Holy Litterbox and putting your own lives on the line for one side or the other, actually has any effect.

Professor Dipshit, who should have learned that lesson while he was dropping acid at Woodstock, forgot to tell you that no one with two braincells cares what 18-24 year olds have to say, on any subject. He (but it's more likely to be a she) did the exact same things you're doing, for no tangible result: they did not stop a war; they saved no lives; they expended a great deal of effort and energy to no good effect, but in their narcissisms and state of denial (aided by mind-altering dugs), they still believe they had some sort of impact on people who lived thousands of miles away, or even those who lived within the borders of their own nation.

Don't end up like Professor Dipshit: perpetually idealistic, and thus, disappointed and discontented with life. Having to live a lie, much like the trannies, that they are desperate for everyone else to conspire in, just to make it through the next day without resort to rope or self-inflicted gunshot wound.

And for fuck's sake, the clouds of really strong pot these things emit should be classified as an environmental hazard and shut the fuck down just for that.

Grow up.

Why I can't be a White Supremacist
For absolutely no reason at all, some melanin-and-gravity enhanced (I think) female found it necessary to call me a "White Supremacist" from across the street as we passed in opposite directions.

I do not know this tub of minority fat; we have never met, before (I would remember something that had that many harpoons stuck in it and left potholes and a slick of baby oil on the sidewalk as it shambled along).

One great, big difference between the modern New York and the South that I've just left is the disposition of the local welfare queens and professional criminal class.

I mean, if I were still walking the sidewalks of Raleigh, she would at least have called me "Sir" while smearing me with an epithet of "supremacist" and then told me "appreciate y'all".

Southern blacks seem to have something of restraint, at least around white people, while northern blacks have been encouraged to be as fucking stupid and obnoxious as possible. Things they seem to do very well, besides having children they won't feed out of wedlock, driving without licenses or insurance, and ruining anything they get within 50' of by means of their very presence.

No, I am not a supremacist. After all, all of my furniture faces north towards the abolitionist republic, rather than south towards the reprobate slave owners. I have literally never announced my superiority to any other race in public. I couldn't win that hundred meter dash with the would-be, oppressed and tragically misunderstood wanna-be Carl Lewis who stuck a gun under my nose and make off with my wallet some years ago. Obviously he needed it to continue his studies in Hegelian philosophy.

I give you great credit for being able to wear purple at all times and bear the weight of great globs of cocoa butter and not setting yourselves alight when firing up that next crack pipe. Thank you for Hank Aaron, Michael Jordan, Jazz, Flip Wilson and The Welfare State, mighty accomplishments, in their own rights.

What I will admit to being, however, is a member of a superior culture. One so superior that there were no Zulus marching in conquest of London, no Ethiopians creating space programs, no ANC terrorists destroying a nation full of mineral wealth, no numerical system that went "one, two, three, many-many", no mud huts and fire-hardened sticks necessary to hunt down wild gazelles, and which certainly did not produce the likes of Barack Obama (I am not a racist: I hated his white half, too).

This "everything is racist, so that gives me the right to be one, too" routine is wearing thin. 

Math is not racist. Picking up after your dog is not racist. Not committing crimes is not racist. Not naming your children by opening the medicine cabinet is not racist. Your special brand of lazy and stupidity was not born of racism. Even to call you out as lazy and stupid is not racist; your best examples display both qualities in spades (no pun intended) all on their own.

I saw a video on YouTube the other day in which a very smart African (and African-African) made the point that in none of the major sub-Saharan African languages does there exist a word equivalent to the English word "maintenance". He was making the point that those racist Europeans left behind functioning mines, farms, railroads, air and seaports, universities, water and sewage systems, hospitals, and a host of other benefits of civilization, which have all fallen into shit once they were handed over to Africans.

It got me to thinking that incompetence and dumbass may be genetic.

A random encounter with Moby Douche just confirmed it for me. For some reason I cannot fathom, the word "uppity" leaped into my mind.

The Mexican Navy
Proving that incompetence is not limited to a single continent nor a particular gene pool, the Mexican Navy did something the other day so monumentally stupid that it becomes crystal clear why their Aztec ancestors never made it across the Atlantic.

They hit the Brooklyn Bridge with a tall sailing ship.

Now, three things on the subject.

First, the height of the span at various tides is known. It hardly varies (the bridge crosses the East River, not seacoast), so one would assume that if you knew the height of the ship and the clearance under the span, you wouldn't have attempted to sail under it, at all. This is basic seamanship, no?

Second, apparently Mexicans can't run anything larger than a leaf blower or a lawn mower, because it has been reported that the ship lost power and became a plaything for wind and current.

Thirdly, the Mexican government will not allow the NTSB and other authorities to interview the crew to discover the cause of the accident, I assume because they'll find that several members decided to take the opportunity while visiting New York to jump ship and illegally enter the country.

Most likely the guys who knew how to operate the ship, I reckon.

The Overlord is not pleased.