Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Political Correctness: Fascism Disguised As Sensitivity

Idiot students at Mizzou foolishly think they're victims of racism, when they're actually victims of bad parents who failed to give them the love and discipline balance that produces character, plus liberal academics who coddled the dangerous fantasy of "safe spaces" free from opposing or challenging viewpoints.

I would like to whitesplain the facts of life to these pathetic babies, but I can´t, because I self-identify as black from the waist down and white from the waist up. Plus, being the one white member of a black church during university and loving mostly women of color all my life and living in dark-skinned cultures for decades gives me more contact with brown folks than Hawaiian prep school grad Barack Obama will ever have. So, I'm gonna brownsplain reality.

When I'm surrounded on a deserted street by a drunk gang-tattooed group of Mexican men who call me "pinche gringo" (white trash), I usually make jokes, make friends, and make them painfully aware that I'm way cooler and warmer than they are. When one racist coward reportedly yells "Nigga!" from his truck window at a group of Mizzou students, they're traumatized and now need new funding, new curriculum, and new teachers.

One cannot overstate how immature and dysfunctional these whiners are. Their culture and the media have lied to them. Their skin color and a racist scum have nothing to do with their crippling problem. Those who like Martin Luther King judge people by the content of their character not their skin color sense immediately that these protestors are in much more danger from a world with no tolerance for lack of marketable skill than a moronic bigot with no tolerance for differing skin pigment. If they think systemic racism sucks, wait till they try systemic starvation. (Oops! That won't happen, because they're middle-class American brats. Sorry, I was confusing them with folks who have real problems.) Yet, similar violent demonstrations have occured recently nationwide from Yale University to Claremont-McKenna.

Just as the media refused to see that Trevor Martin and George Zimmerman were both violent troubled youth who went looking for violence and trouble then found it (because the media was obsessed with microscopic differences in the ethnic blend of the two boys), so fools now see the Mizzou mayhem as serious protest against the system, when it's mostly rage over the protestors' own dysfunctional lives. Most of these spoiled students need a father (if not an ass-whuppin'), rather than more safe spaces and sensitivity training.

On the other hand, we old farts should be wise and humble enough to see that these demonstrators (like most generations transitioning into adult life) are admirable in their hunger for justice and transformation. People lose their passion for change and their faith in the viability of change as they age. The "students" are not much to blame for the fact that their moral crusade and old time revival has no real morality to revive.

Their lame parents and professors indulged them in the false religion of political correctness with its obsession for racial segregation and gender conflation rather than the goodness of God and the infinite value of all God's children. Nor were they wise enough to educate the next generation that hate speech can hurt a black (or yellow or red or white) student's feelings but the absence of free speech can put us all back in the slave chains that ancestors fought so hard and nobly to shed. Racism sucks, but slavery sucks so much more.

America has planted the vile mob-rule seeds of political correctness, rather than doing the hard work of cultivating morality, which bears good fruit in season. If America's future parents and professors grow the balls to teach goodness instead of political correctness, they too will reap what they sow. Let's hear no more of the religious right's "God bless America" or Jeremiah Wright's "God damn America". Let's hear more about Americans taking a little interest in God´s plan for all of us. When political correctness has gone the way of disco, the big I AM will still be. Victim rabble: get over yourselves.

Friday, November 13, 2015

Riding My Woman Into The Sunset

On my birthday tomorrow, I celebrate half a century of passionate living with half a week of passionate loving from a voracious and curvacious woman half my age at Mazunte Beach Jazz Festival. La vida es muy muy dulce.

I thank God for every sunrise, every breath, plus enough torque and thrust to take away the breath of my delicious corn goddess. The jaguar shown in this photo is an old classic edition. Still, the engine on this antique offers true high performance with all parts being original and fully functional.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Pope Francis Needs To Get Laid

The title of this post is neither disrespect nor jest but a serious theological proposal that I will now defend sincerely and brilliantly. Here we go. Pope Francis recently visited the most powerful nation and economic engine in the history of the world for the 1st time. He gave a speech to the U.S. Congress. His message stressed that people should care for the poor and governments should "share" resources by redistributing them from the rich to the poor. He's absolutely correct on the 1st point but dangerously and immorally wrong on the 2nd. I believe he's sincere in his desire to help the poor. However, unless he gets himself a good woman, his papacy will add to global poverty rather than reduce it. This isn't a joke, so let me now explain.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

The Mississippi Cradle of American Music IV

New Orleans is where the Bible belt comes unbuckled. I realize this on Bourbon Street when a black transsexual offers me his unconscious, whiskey-drenched sister for a ten-dollar blowjob or a twenty-dollar screw. Suddenly an all-white jazz band appears. Clarinets, saxophones, trumpets, banjos, trombones, and drums pummel the tragic siblings with “When the Saints Go Marching In.”

Monday, October 19, 2015

The Mississippi Cradle of American Music III

Here I stand at the gates of Elvis Presley’s Graceland mansion—the Taj Mahal of tacky—architectural proof that the unexamined life can be worth living, if you’ve got the cash. Elvis was as unrefined as he was charismatic. Like the Great Gatsby, he remade himself into a squire but really only convinced his “po’ white trash” brethren. He found rising from dirt-poor son of a bootlegger to filthy-rich king of rock ‘n’ roll much easier than rising above class snobbery.

Monday, October 12, 2015

The Mississippi Cradle of American Music II

Led Zepplin’s Lemon Song and My Head's In Mississippi by ZZ Top are both referenced in the previous post of this musical history. Both tunes refer to the songs of Howlin’ Wolf. His story is somewhat typical of the Mississippi Delta’s legendary bluesmen, who constitute the foundation of American music.

Chester Arthur Burnett, aka Howlin’ Wolf, was born in 1910 on the Illinois Central train line near the Mississippi/Alabama border. His eighteen-year-old, Black, sharecropper dad married his fifteen-year-old, Choctaw, pregnant mom unceremoniously.

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

The Mississippi Cradle of American Music

From Vicksburg to Memphis, the Mississippi Delta was once a vast swamp of gum trees, panthers, snakes, mosquitoes, and malaria. For eons, the great muddy river gently deposited dirt on the site. Now, it's a land of rich black soil and poor black people, of fat white cotton bolls and fat white cotton bosses. The population is around 80% black. The landscape is awash in shotgun shacks without plumbing or electricity.

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Mount Everest Just Isn't Worth It

Reading Jon Krakauer's book Into Thin Air and seeing the new movie Everest about the same fatal climbing expedition led me to the same cold analytical conclusion. Everest is a lousy travel destination. Are there other mountains that offer a breathtaking view uncluttered by trash, decomposing human popsicles, and those sacred Tibetan prayer flags easily confused with Mexican barrio party flags? Check. Do other mountains provide that breathtaking view without taking so much breath that your head aches, your inability to make simple decisions threatens your life, and your health is permanently compromised? Check. Can other mountains be climbed without spending enough money to circle the globe twice with someone you love? Check. Since mountaineers are experts at facing cold hard grim realities, try this one out: Everest sucks!

Friday, September 4, 2015

Hail Caesar and Heil Fuhrer Trump

I didn't intend to be a prophet in my recent post about Hillary Clinton. Yet, I accidently was. After doubting that Republicans could find any candidate as sordid, corrupt, and unfit for public trust as America's former first lady and permanent first hag, I added a comment that we still don't know what lies under Donald Trump's frightening hair. Now we do. Two months ago, Trump was a real ass but not a real presidential candidate. Now he's both.

In order to appreciate the Antichrist-like miracle of Donald's ascendancy in the polls, we should take a moment to remember the lice-ridden manger into which this savior was born and the supernatural power he used to multiply 5 loaves and 2 fish that he inherited into five loaves and 2 fish and multiple bankruptcies and a bunch of debt and an enormous ego. (Paris Hilton has done a much better job monetizing the family assets [her ass and a nice set], but Barron Hilton is reportedly not amused, since he's apparently the last person in America who possesses a rare antique known as shame.)