More Little Brown Ones

As previously set forth here, here on red, the 2016 American presidential sweepstakes shall revolve around being brown.

All of the candidates shall have to, not brownto hope to succeed, forswear that they are, in fact, brown.

We know this from George III, now calling himself this campaign season “Heb.” For, though blindlingly white, he is—he swears—he is, actually “Hispanic.”

We know this from the batshit insane “When Can I Start The Nuclear War?” harridan Clinton II, sending out the Command—upon penalty of Death—that All shall recognize that her Real first name has always been “Hidalgo.”

We know this from the crying mewling infants, seeped into dim existence from detective sperm leaking from cowardly loins, loins that fled like whining crying cowards from Cuba, infants that these days knee-crawl across the land as the “senators” Pablo Cruise and Nebby Meeko.

And we know this from Ayn Rand Paul, who, like his father, has promised to gas the brown people last.

And now, as predicted here on red, Carly Fiorina, and Mike Huckabee, have emerged from the Chamber where Keith Richards used to get his blood changed, back when he was a junkie, to Announce they are both now Brown, thanks to the Chamber’s blood-circulation thing; and thus candidates for President.

Huckabee is a stupid fat man who wants the country run on peeling parchment hugged close by Hebrews as they wandered across the desert 6000 years ago.

Fiorina is a stupid white woman who wants to load America aboard a Germanwings jet and then crash it—cackling wildly—into a mountainside.

There have, meanwhile, since last we spoke on this nonsense, emerged—shockingly—two actual non-brown candidates for president.

The first is Ben Carson. He is a supremely stupidwhite fuckwit who many years ago as a surgeon separated siamese twins. And now thinks we should vote for him because he has since separated himself from his black skin, becoming whiter than Ivory soap. And then separated himself first from common sense, then reality, and finally all semblance of sanity itself.

Then there is Bernie Sanders. He is an old white man who lives in Vermont and thus though he is nearly 90 years old he has only once seen a black person. And then only fleetingly. He is the dearly beloved of whiny white men who think that all and every would be solved if we could just get back to the New White Deal where FDR made some Laws special for white people while the black people hung from the trees. But Bernie, he is today so clearly old and white and in the way. For when even a shitpiece like Clinton II is opening her mouth to the current Reality enough to say we need to consider legalizing at least marijuana, old white Bernie is flapping his gums to say The Drugs are “dangerous.” But the sour old white men don’t care, because all of all of them hate The Negroes anyway—and it’s The Negroes who do The Drugs, the prune-lipped white folk say, as they suck on the bong—and maybe Bernie will get them an extra dollar, the white folk, where they work at the white-only workplace, before they go home to stay up all night frantically pounding out on the tubes endless essays about “class” being the always uber alles.


sweet jane


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When I Worked

May 2015
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