Slumming and Black-and-tan Saloons: Racial Intermingling and the Challenging of Color Lines

Researching Greenwich Village History

The mere mention of saloons immediately conjures images of people satisfying their carnal desires by imbibing large quantities of alcohol amongst a rowdy scene of drunkards. Similar images have been popularized through the slumming accounts of journalists such as Jacob Riis and undercover detectives. These stories delivered to a wide range of audiences first hand accounts and initial exposure to an underground world of debauchery and racial intermingling. As a result of journalistic slumming, the black-and-tan saloons became a site of exotic curiosity for distant onlookers to project their imagination, as well as fears. Although there are several accounts that speak of the violence, prostitution and racial intermingling that occur within and surrounding the black-and-tan saloons, the negative casting of these spaces overshadows the community functions saloons fulfilled for ethnic minorities and the working class.

Black-and-tan saloons, also called black-and-tan dives, is precisely what the name connotes – an intermixing…

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Is classical music really for everyone?

Listen to a 45-minute debate on Radio 3, by clicking —–> HERE

It’s chaired by Tom Service and features Zoë Martlew, Paul Morley, Kathryn Tickell and Graham Vick.

Needless to say, perhaps, it’s hardly a penetrating deconstruction of the matter at hand, but then the whole discussion revolves around an almost totally unparsable question…

‘IS’ CLASSICAL MUSIC REALLY FOR EVERYONE????

Is this not utterly meaningless? I’m so confused by it. What does the ‘for’ mean? Is anything for anything?

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The Caucasian Kakistocracy, Revisited

PART TWO OF TWO

In the months since I posted Part One of this article, a long string of infuriating race-related incidents have occurred–all of which merely reinforce everything that I’ve written about this so-called “Caucasian Aristocracy.”

Less than 24 hours ago the New York Supreme Court dropped one of six charges against super-predator Hollywood mogul Harvey Weinstein. While not ostensibly race-related, Weinstein’s acquittal on just this one charge speaks volumes in itself. It comes directly on the heels of the confirmation and beatification of Brett Kavanaugh (misogynist, ex-frat boy and hard rightist, to whom David Duke gushed, “Thank God you are now on the Supreme Court!”), the revelations that Trump helped his parents evade millions of taxes (not to mention his own sex scandals with Stormy Daniels and other shady ladies), and the rehiring of Timothy Loehmann–the cop who killed 12-year old Tamir Rice in 2014–in Bellaire, Ohio. Georgia lawmaker Jason Spencer (no relation to Richard, though one would think otherwise) literally shows his fat white ass to the world on Sacha Baron Cohen’s This is America (indeed!), screaming “nigger!” at the top of his lungs, making “ching-chong” noises and sucking on a dildo. Jason Spencer was elected to the Georgia House of Representatives in 2010 on the Republican ticket; his fat ass is still there, probably still shouting “nigger” and still pulling his eyes back in the presence of Asians. (At least in private.)

And in the meantime, Bill Cosby is serving three to ten years in prison. This is not to gloss over Cosby showing his own ass decades ago, when he hypocritically dismissed Huey Newton as “nothing more than a thug” and a “hoodlum”; when he made a name for himself playing a spy on TV (at the height of the Black Power movement), and later went on to become “America’s Dad” while privately dropping Quaaludes in ugly women’s drinks and lecturing the most exploited class of people in America–the black underclass–about not speaking English, not pulling up their pants and getting shot over ninety-cent slices of stale pound cake.

Bill Cosby’s actions perfectly personified the uselessness and moral bankruptcy of America’s Black Elite. He sat on a fortune close to a billion dollars while millions of blacks nationwide had to steal to pay their rent, or even get their next meal. So it’s not a matter of shedding tears for Billy-Boy being locked up. That’s not the point. The point is that Billy-Boy, far wealthier than Harvey Weinstein could ever hope to be, is sitting in a jail cell while Harvey, Roy Moore, Donald Trump, Tim Loehmann, Roman Polanski and above all that little turd George Zimmerman are not. That’s because Billy-Boy’s billion doesn’t add up to much when his skin ain’t white.

Further down the food chain, the outlook for those outside the Aristocracy looks far bleaker. The Aristocracy feels (perhaps rightly so) that it is under assault from the dirty, unwashed, unwhite masses of the world (especially the black ones), so it is pushing back against them post-Reconstruction style. This Kakistocracy loves playing victim even with an assault rifle in its hands. Down on the very bottom of the American totem pole, the Afro-American has become a veritable moving target. The days of the African Dodger are back; only this time, they don’t need to put your head in a canvas and throw rocks at your head; they simply call the cops. Nekia Jones of Columbus, Ohio, for instance, has been locked up for nonpayment of child support–Ms. Jones is childless. Delta Airlines, a cracker concern, has shown its collective ass again in several appalling incidents (generally involving black women), one resulting in a passenger’s baggage being damaged in flight by incompetent baggage-handlers. (The passenger had the police called on her by a fascist staff member on the lower rung of the Kakistocratic food chain. The fascist’s excuse–like the one used by the soft Gestapo in Berlin at KFC–was that the unnamed woman was filming her.) A day ago, yet another Southern (Georgia) white woman calls the police on a black man babysitting his white friends’ children; Pool Patty, Permit Patty, Permit BettyBarbecue Becky, and their male equivalent “Permit Model”–some sexually insecure schmuck who couldn’t bear to see a black model in a photo shoot–have sent a collective message to those on the bottom of the global racial hierarchy: anything you do–even if it is so much as reading a fucking book–is a threat to our well-being.

No–scratch that. To the white Kakistocrat, merely being alive as a black (or brown or red) person is a threat to one’s well-being.

jennifer-schulte-bbq-becky
Jennifer Schulte, aka Barbecue Becky: Patriarch with a Pussy

It’s noteworthy that the overwhelming majority of racist calls have come from white women. No one should be surprised that this is so. These same poor white women, who wrung their hands and howled like banshees over the “sexual misconduct” of Harvey, Billy-Boy, Al Franken, Bill O’Riley, Sean Hannity, Donald Trump, Kevin Spacey and other men have never been opposed to The Patriarchy (or The Capitalist Kakistocracy, which is what it really is) except in theory. In practice, we clearly see that their hijacking of #MeToo (from a black woman dog-whistling at the Kakistocracy in the vain hope that their system would round up black male perverts) was, and still is, a clumsy power-grab on their part. Grabbing for what? The desks, round-tables, and cushy positions of the same “Patriarchy” they pretended to despise. They don’t hate the male chauvinist white Aristocracy; they simply want to run it for themselves. They are the female equivalent of those slimy, ethically bankrupt Third World elites who moved into the same comfy positions of power left behind by the British, French and Spanish after the colonizers left Africa.

Nawal el Saadawi, Egyptian novelist and activist, was perfectly on point when she described Theresa May and Hillary Clinton as being “even more patriarchal than men.” She forgot about Angela Merkel but then again, one gets the point. At the rate everything is going politically in the world today the Kakistocracy will continue for the foreseeable future. Not because this disgusting class is impregnable, but because this class finds it so easy to dangle 95% of humanity on puppet strings. No one outside the Kakistocracy is even thinking of resisting the bullshit. White women, negresses such as Candace Owens, Michelle Malkin and Jannine Piro (a sand Negress), reactionary boy-toys like Paris Dennard and Milo Yiannopoulous and super-spades like Kanye West, David Clarke and Jesse Lee Peterson will be our future gauleiters–reactionary buffoons whose main job is to vainly patch up the cracks in a rapidly disintegrating Western civilization.

Down the Totem Pole

The further you go down the American totem pole the darker people get, the vaguer their faces become, until they are all one dark mass on the very bottom. That dark mass supports the weight of the kakistocracy; it functions as a kind of cornerstone-slash-slop jar. We can be cute and call it “Da Hood” but everyone in the society (including other blacks) understand it to be That Other Place–Niggertown†.

Whatever it is, it is not America–not really. Not as the White Aristocrat defines America. I completely reject everything the White Aristocrat defines as America or as American, but that’s not the point. The point is that in his eyes, and in the eyes of everyone who sees the world through his eyes, Niggertown is America’s toilet. Niggertown represents (to him) a negation of all great Western values and morals–even though Niggertown is entirely the creation of white Western culture.

Ironic, yes. This Niggertown, this Black Slopjar is “dirty,” “evil,” “smelly,” “ape-infested,” but at the same time “we,” the White Aristocracy, desperately need this Black Slopjar. In a moral sense, we need “Niggertown” in order to define ourselves in opposition to it; without it, our existence (as White Aristocrats) makes no sense. It’s true that (in our minds) the high moral standards that “we whites” think we are setting for ourselves don’t apply there since Niggertown is (supposedly) the absolute moral opposite of “America.” But that is part of the fun. The society we have constructed for ourselves is simply too “white”; there’s no “passion” in it, no color, no adventure, no sensuality. So what do we do if we can’t go to Thailand? Go to Niggertown. Da Hood is not only America’s Inferno, it’s also America’s whorehouse, the place where “we” go slumming and let down our hair. It’s the place where “we” buy our drugs, our pussy, the joint where we indulge our sense of white privilege to the hilt since in Niggertown, we can’t be held accountable for what we do since we are never really guilty: only the “Niggers” are truly guilty.

Please note that Niggertown is as much a state of mind as it is a place. So if you are too afraid to go to West Baltimore in the flesh, you can blast Tupac or Drake from your car stereo and sag your fucking pants or even slap on blackface if you so wish. You can host a Mandingo party or pick up random “Niggers” in clubs and suck them off (or have them suck you off) in the toilet. What happens in Niggertown stays in Niggertown.

In this regard, talk of “Black Irresponsibility” is not only foolish and idle, but obscene.¹We all know that before “White” there was no “Black,” that the creation of “Negroes” or “Niggers” or “Blacks” required not merely the creation of White but the conditions under which white would flourish and “Black” would languish. As a side note, it’s worth noting that the Brazilian term for “Big Nigger,” negao, also means “negative” in Portuguese. I can’t tell you if that was a deliberate choice of wording but it is obvious that Black “irresponsibility” is but a negative reflection, an “Afro-pantomime” of the White Kakistocracy. All values within that system have their origins with the founders of that system; those in “Da Hood” may make some adjustments to those values in order to adapt those values to their own needs, but in essence they are the same.

A rotten, despicable, worthless society predicated entirely upon the notion that having white skin (and being rich) makes you a blameless saint in the eyes of most, whilst being the opposite makes you the devil. A black man’s worth increases in this society only if he comes closer to what white society deems its ideal…and yet, if this same black man were to truly become “white male” in every sense of the ideal save for his complexion, he would be tossed in jail.

Black women with braids and Afro-styled hair are weird or outre whereas a white woman who thoughtlessly appropriates these same styles (and wrongly, I might add) is “stylish” and “cutting edge.” We routinely see how white women appropriate, use and rip-off black, brown, red and yellow women, and use them as the battering rams to force their way to the top of the American food chain. #MeToo, the anti-Gun march: all sentimental, idiotic pie-eyed displays of the worst American puritan knee-jerk hysteria surrounding sex.

Every white woman who imagines she was felt up by Woody Allen or Woody Woodpecker or Mickey Mouse comes out with some wretched story about how she was abused, and the whole world stands up to applaud it. And when the Native American woman details how she and her sisters were raped or murdered at the hands of the American police or other men (including their own), one hears crickets. Thousands of black women have disappeared in the DC area alone over the past 10 years, and not a single soul has bothered to come forward to ask of their whereabouts. African women are routinely trafficked into sex slavery in Europe, along with Balkan, Romanian and South-East Asian women. Sri Lankan, Filipino and Ethiopian women are routinely raped, beaten and worked to death by Gulf Arab or Lebanese employers. (Many of these employers are other females.) Just recently a Kenyan woman was beaten senseless in the streets of Beirut by two Lebanese hoodlums. There is no fucking hashtag movement to highlight the plight of these particular women, and if there is it definitely gets set on the back-burner behind the outrage over Bill Cosby, Harvey Weinstein or Al Franken’s cute hijinks.

This is not merely because Thai prostitutes or Ethiopian maids are not “beautiful people” like Lady Gaga or Kylie Jenner or some other played up megastar, but because they are not white.

Their whiteness also blinds them to their own historical demise. In every sense of the word Western culture is nonexistent outside of the Louvre or some National Gallery of Art. Contemporary Western architecture–and this goes for everything being constructed elsewhere in the world–is hideous. Enormous glass cages which stretch for miles and miles around, filled with mindless drones parked behind cubicles or stuck in some hideous plastic condo. In the Italian Renaissance, a major building was generally conceived as a thing of beauty, nobility and grandeur. Today, everything–the architecture included–has an expiration date. Today no architect anywhere in the world (since they are all blindly following the White lead) would even dream of constructing a Sistine Chapel or an Alhambra or a Taj Mahal or a Machu Picchu or anything comparable to the splendors of Luxor or Karnak or Kilwa.

Why? Because White Supremacy–the ideology of the Cacistocracy–is strictly utilitarian, one that only function in opposition to whatever it deems threatening–even if that thing is Beauty itself.

Even their contemporary music is ugly. No more Beethovens, Mahlers or Janaceks can be found among them, unless they are hiding away in some attic in Lisbon or Lviv. Their “white” novels are solipsistic, pretentious masturbation. Academia, especially in the United States, is falling by the wayside. National infrastructures are crumbling, and not merely because everything is put into the American war machine. America’s infrastructures crumble because those responsible for maintaining these infrastructures are far more interested in laying about in Mar-a-lago or some God-forsaken Caribbean island stuffing adolescent girls or boys and basking in–what else?–their insufferable sense of being (once again) white.²

“Five centuries of colonialism, capitalism and nationalism have turned Europeans into the enemy of the human kind,” Franco Berardi fumed last year, in response to reports of mass migrant deaths in the Mediterranean, slave-dealing in Libya and the surge of moronic, right-wing Western populism. “May they (Europeans) be cursed forever! May Europeans be swept away by the storm they have generated, by the weapons they are building, by the fire they have ignited, by the hatred they have cultivated!”

Bifo Berardi’s words ignited, as they say, a “storm of controversy”; some folks considered him a bit mad. But when one sees Europeans–and by extension, white Westerners and their perennial flunkies–within the context of a decaying, bloated, self-satisfied Kakistocracy, then his words make perfect sense. There can be no democracy, let alone Socialism, in a planet dominated by racist white aristocrats and their colored court jesters. 

___________________________________________

†Niggertown wasn’t created by “Niggers” but by systematic “red-lining” (translated into English, it means setting up special residential areas for “Niggers” so whites can control their movements, their wallets, their culture, their minds, etc. In other words, a fucking township, or a reservation). There was also mental redlining. American music was once redlined on record labels (known as “race records” or “Sepia Series”). The African American was and is redlined in novels, plays, newspaper articles, and movies: restricted to being portrayed as an idiot, a whore, a mammy, a suck-up, a shiftless ne’er-do-well, a criminal, a thug, a “problem”; playing out the same tired, hackneyed roles that the Euro-American crafted for him, roles that revealed nothing of the Black actor’s true personality but merely those buried instincts (what Freud called the ID) that the good white aristocrat could not act out in polite white society. Hence, the minstrel show, Al Jolson, Elvis Presley, Satchmo (as opposed to Louis Armstrong), Stepinfetchit, Drake, Eminem and all the rest. Hence “Ebonics,” which is what white society has made of Black English–a language that Afro-Americans constructed in order to define the world on their terms and not that of the white aristocrats.

¹”Everything is ‘white genocide’ because they can only operate without challenges. Unless the deck is stacked against everyone else they literally cannot keep up with the other ethnic groups, ESPECIALLY not against blacks. While every other group was building civilizations, kingdoms, and empires white people literally were in caves. That is a scientific fact. This went on for several thousand years. Hell even the Mesoamericans had the Mayan empire before whites created their first settlement. There is no such thing as ‘white supremacy’, they aren’t supreme. If they were they could win at equal footing and history shows THEY. NEVER. HAVE. AND. NEVER. WILL. There is only white psychosis and white tyranny and they’re starting to see their failings and so the ‘white genocide’ excuse surfaced again, which they used several times through human history.” —

comment from “HaveYouEverDancedWithTheDevilInThePaleMoonLight”

²And what’s the whole point of the war machine, anyway? For the ultimate showdown between Western Whiteness and the Third World (namely, the Middle East, Latin America, Asia, Africa and perhaps Russia, if only because Russia and China are the two major stumbling blocks between Uncle Sam and absolute global hegemony).

Kaf’s Toons: October, 2018

Sorry that I’m more than a day late, and definitely more than a dollar (or a euro) short.

Economically September was very hectic.

In addition to this, it looks like Amazon is trying to censor my fucking novel–at least on American Amazon: when you type in “P. Lewis Nate” nothing comes up.

But in this super-reactionary political and cultural climate, nothing surprises me anymore.

I have a number of blog posts in preparation. Not too many people will see them, as not too many will probably view the blog posts of other bloggers such as The Angry Indian because (apparently) our views on Alexa have taken an inexplicable nose-dive since this August. I naturally suspect political bias, of course.

The cartoon below is one drawn some months ago, but since Melania is going to be Melania–she’s in the news again for wearing colonial-style gear in Africa–I don’t see why Kaf needed to draw a pith helmet on her fat head.

amazing_disgrace
“Amazing Disgrace”

Salvador Allende: Last Words to the Nation

From Marxists.org

This speech was delivered at 9:10 am on September 11, 1973, in the midst on an ultimately successful US-sponsored coup d’etat against the democratically-elected government.  Barricaded inside La Moneda, the presidential palace, President Allende gave his life defending Chilean democracy. Translation by Yoshie Furuhashi. Translation first appeared in MRzine here.

 

My friends,

Surely this will be the last opportunity for me to address you. The Air Force has bombed the towers of Radio Portales and Radio Corporación.

My words do not have bitterness but disappointment. May they be a moral punishment for those who have betrayed their oath: soldiers of Chile, titular commanders in chief, Admiral Merino, who has designated himself Commander of the Navy, and Mr. Mendoza, the despicable general who only yesterday pledged his fidelity and loyalty to the Government, and who also has appointed himself Chief of the Carabineros [national police].

Given these facts, the only thing left for me is to say to workers: I am not going to resign!

Placed in a historic transition, I will pay for loyalty to the people with my life. And I say to them that I am certain that the seed which we have planted in the good conscience of thousands and thousands of Chileans will not be shriveled forever.

They have strength and will be able to dominate us, but social processes can be arrested neither by crime nor force. History is ours, and people make history.

Workers of my country: I want to thank you for the loyalty that you always had, the confidence that you deposited in a man who was only an interpreter of great yearnings for justice, who gave his word that he would respect the Constitution and the law and did just that. At this definitive moment, the last moment when I can address you, I wish you to take advantage of the lesson: foreign capital, imperialism, together with the reaction, created the climate in which the Armed Forces broke their tradition, the tradition taught by General Schneider and reaffirmed by Commander Araya, victims of the same social sector which will today be in their homes hoping, with foreign assistance, to retake power to continue defending their profits and their privileges.

I address, above all, the modest woman of our land, the campesina who believed in us, the worker who labored more, the mother who knew our concern for children. I address professionals of Chile, patriotic professionals, those who days ago continued working against the sedition sponsored by professional associations, class-based associations that also defended the advantages which a capitalist society grants to a few.

I address the youth, those who sang and gave us their joy and their spirit of struggle. I address the man of Chile, the worker, the farmer, the intellectual, those who will be persecuted, because in our country fascism has been already present for many hours — in terrorist attacks, blowing up the bridges, cutting the railroad tracks, destroying the oil and gas pipelines, in the face of the silence of those who had the obligation to protect them.  They were committed. History will judge them.

Surely Radio Magallanes will be silenced, and the calm metal instrument of my voice will no longer reach you. It does not matter. You will continue hearing it. I will always be next to you. At least my memory will be that of a man of dignity who was loyal to [inaudible] the workers.

The people must defend themselves, but they must not sacrifice themselves. The people must not let themselves be destroyed or riddled with bullets, but they cannot be humiliated either.

Workers of my country, I have faith in Chile and its destiny. Other men will overcome this dark and bitter moment when treason seeks to prevail. Go forward knowing that, sooner rather than later, the great avenues will open again where free men will walk to build a better society.

Long live Chile! Long live the people! Long live the workers!

These are my last words, and I am certain that my sacrifice will not be in vain, I am certain that, at the very least, it will be a moral lesson that will punish felony, cowardice, and treason.

Santiago de Chile, 11 September 1973

New Feature: Kaf’s Toons

This is the first from “Kaf” in what will be a monthly series of cartoons satirizing contemporary so-called “civilization.” Be forewarned that Kaf’s vision will be unrelentingly cruel–much less like Oliphant, or even Ollie Harrington…and more like George Grosz. Kaf has an entire war-chest of fiendishly cold-blooded observations coming up, so stay tuned.

WHITEY_JOE_YOUNG
“Whitey Joe Young”

Kaf had to go after the Orange Orangutan for his first hit. Why he didn’t have the fat bastard battling tweets rather than airplanes is anyone’s guess. But we all know that the motherfucker just can’t close his mouth to save his soul.

“We are not Nazis!”

The fuck you’re not Nazis.

In 1994, I was sitting smugly at an Athenian cafe terrace sipping coffee when an angry young man encountered me. By his looks I figured he was Greek. “I am Albanian,” he told me. After informing me that he dug black music and that Albanian men dug black girls, he said, “what are you doing in this fucking Greek shithole?”

I told him I was on vacation. “Why? The Greeks are all fascist. And the Greek girls are ugly. Albanian girls are much better. Even the Greek language and food is just very, very shit.”

I took his complaints seriously because I understood something. I was not walking in his shoes. I was walking around in white sneakers and an outdated 1980s fucking Miami Vice jacket with money in my pocket and access to the cheapest whores in Europe. At the time I was still something of a greenhorn when it came to fathoming the depths of Greek racism. Of course, I knew it existed; I saw the tension on the young Albanian’s face when I encountered him later–I saw him, but he didn’t see me, so wrapped up was he in his rage. I understood that look on his face: I had the same look on mine when I was back in Adelphi, Maryland. I did not dare contemplate that one day that in Greece, I would have that same angry, haunted look as the young Albanian chap.

In the late eighties and early nineties, whatever racism Athenians showed me was far outweighed by the near-total indifference I received overall. Nobody paid me any mind. I could walk the streets of the city any time of the day or night, unmolested. Like James Baldwin in Paris, I was left alone to be me. And even though I sincerely despised Athens and thought very little of Greeks in general (truthfully, few expats did; most of them sat around complaining about how horribly rude Athenians were), I still felt grateful to be there in spite of the obscene pollution, in spite of the killer heat, the flies, the poverty, the drugs (Athens had and still has an outrageously bad heroin problem) and the cold shoulder I got from Greeks.

But there were other issues. A strong sense of Greek chauvinism persisted, particularly in tavernas and night-clubs, where even a Scottish friend of mine was bodily thrown out of. A German guy stupid enough to seduce a young woman in Crete found himself stoned and hurled off a cliff. Greek madams and pimps back then had a policy of generally blocking non-Greeks {read: non-whites} from Greek prostitutes. And I did get a sense of what Greek police were capable of doing to foreigners when in the proper mood: that same year (1994), a black South African friend of mine showed me horrific scars on his forehead that some sadistic Greek officers had given him.

After 1999, when Apostolos Apostolou and Pandelis Kazakos went on a rampage in Athens killing a Georgian (George Godesiani) and wounding immigrants from Ghana, Egypt, Pakistan and Bangladesh, the xenophobia in that country began to climb through the roof. I remember being called a “nigger” by some dipshit Arab racist near Omonia Square that year (the first time I heard that word uttered in Greece) and some other encounters in night-clubs that seriously pissed me off. The night-club encounters were a manifestation of a more subtle yet no less lethal form of racism: young Greek girls were seeking out “primitive”-looking black men fresh off the boats. If that sounds funny to you remember that racism in Europe often takes on strange forms. Many European women are sexually fascinated with Africans whom they can look down on and slum with. (Actually, this is an American thing, too. Check out Calvin C. Hernton’s book SEX AND RACISM IN AMERICA where he talks about the Greenwich Village scene of the early sixties and the interracial “love” that used to go down there.)

By 2002, I had had enough. The racism had gotten to the point where I could hear myself being called “mavro” (Greek for black) several times a day. While there was also a concomitant cultural detente between open-minded Greeks (those who didn’t have any real problems dealing with blacks) there were a lot of ugly incidents in which white as well as Asian tourists had begun to jump on the Negrophobic bandwagon. One British bitch snarled something about “niggers” while standing outside a youth hostel, apparently delighted that “mavro” apparently meant the same thing. Some chickenshit Chinese tourist saw me walking behind her and became horrified at my presence and nervously clutched her bag beside her. Athens had become another New Orleans and I wasn’t fucking having it.

The final straw came when a so-called “friend” of mine–half-Liberian, half-Lebanese–put a knife to my throat and demanded my laptop. When I refused he slashed me across the face. I kicked him in the balls SEVEN times but he was so zonked on PCP it didn’t even affect him. The sonofabitch held me up for 600 Euros. I had him arrested after he pocketed my money (which was never returned) and he was imprisoned for a short while, then released. While waiting on the ferry to get back to the Greek mainland, three fucking greaseballs threatened to kick my ass while I was sleeping and I had to pull out my pepper spray on them.

The next day I was on a plane heading for Berlin. I have not bothered to return to that shit-hole, and from what I know of Athenians and their disgustingly rude and childish behavior, they largely brought all of their miseries on themselves. What did Greeks expect when they spent so much time goofing off in tavernas with a fucking frappe under their fat noses while Sri Lankans, Pakistanis and other “mavri” washed their dishes and hosed down the jism from their whorehouse/hotel rooms? That these clowns are now crying for fascism seems logical given their basic inability to think though shit logically.

And as for my Lebanese-Liberian “friend,” he became a drug dealer, then a heroin addict. The last I heard of him, his badly decomposed body was found in one of those dusty rat-trap/bordellos that pass for hotel rooms in the junk-ridden Vathis Quarter of backstreet Athens.

I can't relax in Greece

29/06/14

By IOS GROUP: Tasos Kostopoulos, Anta Psarra, DimitrisPsarras

ios@efsyn.gr

[…]

golden-dawn-salute Group Nazi salute at a gathering of the organization

Of particular interest was the reaction of Golden Dawn to the photographic revelations. […] Without disputing any of the photos, the organization, in its unsigned announcement further claimed that “these photographs, had been in their possession since September of 2013 and they chose to release them today, in June of 2014”. Thus, up to this point, the only thing they chose to respond to with these revelations, was the fact that the photographs are old, implying that, since Michaloliakos and Pappas posed with swastikas, their Nazi beliefs have changed. Of course the organization avoided commenting on the three very recent photographs, in which Pappas was shown giving the Nazi salute over Mussolini’s grave and a group of Golden Dawn members, led by Kassidiaris, holding the flag of the Nazi Wehrmacht…

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Theodor W. Adorno, “On Jazz”

In a nutshell, Adorno simply didn’t understand anything about Jazz at all, and the eroticism in the music clearly disturbed him.

No One Special

The more democratic jazz is, the worse it becomes. – Theodor W. Adorno, “On Jazz”, in Richard Leppert, ed., Theodor W. Adorno: Essays On Music, p.475

As noted in a previous reflection, Adorno’s experience with and understanding of jazz was extremely limited.  Thus it is that this essay is one with which it is far too easy to find fault on so many levels.  At the same time, there is wisdom here, insight that becomes prophetic, along side a dismissal both of the roots of the music as well as American’s foremost composer, Duke Ellington, about whom Adorno insists there is little originality, Ellington’s music already having been tried and found wanting in the “salon” music of Debussy, who Ellington credits as an inspiration.

First, to those things he gets right.  Adorno’s review of jazz is thoroughly social, set against the backdrop of late-capitalism, with its demands for marketing…

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The African Dodger

Not surprised. In fact I first learned about this great, all-American game from Richard Wright’s novel “The Long Dream,” in which Fishbelly, the main character, observes a black man being pummeled in a similar game at a redneck carnival in Mississippi. To say “We’ve got a long way to do” is a blatant understatement. “We” are going in the opposite direction; the Murkan Dodge car has reversed and is backing off a cliff.

AmeriPics

Most readers have likely heard of the Los Angeles Dodgers.

ladodgers

And if you are old enough, you may remember the Brooklyn Dodgers. (The Dodgers were a Brooklyn, NY, team until they moved to the west coast in 1958.)

brookdodgers

But have you heard of the African Dodger?

dodgerball

At first you might think I was just referring in an odd way to the first African American to “break the color line” of segregated Major League baseball since the 1880s, Jackie Robinson. The Brooklyn Dodgers signed him to play for their team in 1947.

robinson

But no, that African Dodger baseball shown above wasn’t a baseball used by Jackie. It is one of tens of thousands of similar ones that were used from the 1880s through the 1940s in a different kind of “ball game.” Which, in its heyday, was just as popular in America as apple pie and baseball.

In a professional game…

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When You Set Your Own House on Fire, Don’t Blame Your Maid

Generalissimo Trump has been very busy these past few months. If he hasn’t been randomly shutting two-year old Honduran girls up in concentration camps, he’s been sharing his shitpot with everybody’s favorite comic opera buffoon-dictator (Kim Jong Un) and scribbling random, emotionally-charged tweets to any prominent media figure he feels is challenging his “authoritahhh.” He’s been showing his fat, white pimpled ass to the world so often that some of us have even gone blind.

Hardly a day goes by in which this baboon doesn’t fling his feces at us. He does it with such regularity that most folks have already forgotten some of his worst blunderings–for instance, his referral to African and Caribbean nations as “shitholes,” among other things. Another big blunder was his referral to certain “illegal” immigrants from Mexico or El Salvador as “animals.” His alibi? “Mexico and El Salvador are not sending their best and brightest,” on the one hand, and on the other, “most of these guys are MS-13, savage murderers and killers.”

To be fair, some of Dumbo’s wild ravings in Duluth (reminiscent of one of Mussolini’s macho freakouts) had a grain of truth to them. Mexico and El Salvador are, generally speaking, not sending their best and brightest to the US because their “best and brightest” would rather not flip burgers at Arby’s for two decades. Yet that’s about it. Trump doesn’t give a shit about “real” Americans losing their jobs to “illegals,” because it’s been well-documented that he himself has utilized “illegal” labor in the past to build his little towers. Trump’s referencing MS-13 was a flimsy insinuation that all Latinos are “animals,” and that all “beaners,” including his most ardently racist supporters in Miami, are MS-13. (The alt-right doesn’t mind using a few racist Latinos to bolster their numbers and parrot their psychotic ideology. Why not? It makes them look legit; it takes moral ammunition away from so-called Social Justice Warriors and other “leftist” scum such as yours truly. Remember Amin al-Husseini?)

It’s an understatement to say that Mara Salvatrucha is made up of Salvadoran youths who are beyond dehumanized. One need not belabor that point at all. Last July Angel Soler, a 15-year old, was hacked to death in Nassau County, New York by machete-wielding MS-13 hoods. But this begs the question: how in the hell did these kids get to be so thoroughly brutalized? The answer to the question is simple. “To understand the history of the MS-13,” writes Franc Contreras (CGTN America), “we must return to El Salvador’s civil war in in the 1980s. Left-wing rebels battled a U.S.-backed right-wing government blamed for widespread human rights abuses. Salvadorans fled the violence and migrated to the United States, many settling in Los Angeles. There, they confronted attacks from street gangs. That’s when MS-13 was born.”

America’s dealings with the world politically are like an exterminator who, contrary to all logic, uses mice to drive ants out of buildings. The ants may leave but the mice remain. When the mice become too much of a problem, this “exterminator” calls on the rats to drive out the mice but when the mice are gone, the rats remain. The whole process repeats itself until the fucking exterminator stoops to using elephants to drive out the hippos he used to drive out the wildebeests he used to drive out the bobcats he used to drive out the snakes he used to drive out the rats–the end result naturally being total chaos.

Uncle Sam, too proud to admit that he fucked himself, tries to shift the blame to the “niggers” or the “commies” or some other group he despises. Too proud, too narcissistic, too arrogant and above all, too fucking stupid. Uncle Sham wants the rest of the world to think that He alone is right, that it’s either Shammy’s Way or the highway. During the Salvadoran Civil War (which lasted from 1979 to 1992)  U.S. officials went so far as to take control of the Salvadoran military in the hopes of beating back left-wing “Marxist” rebels. In other words, America not merely invented MS-13, but created the lion’s share of the social and historical conditions that led to the rise of MS-13. Along with ISIS and Al-Qaeda, Mara Salvatrucha is the end result of America’s misguided Cold War policies of “containing Communism” at whatever cost. Better a radical Islamic government–so Truman, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter, and Reagan assumed–than Arab Socialism or Mossadegh; better a hard-right ultra-conservative Catholic military junta (think Pinochet, Somoza or Trujillo) than Salvador Allende or God forbid, another Fidel.

The end result of such blatant political blundering can be seen everywhere, on every corner, in every street in every city in every single country. The entire planet has become not a replica of American bullshit but its obscene caricature.  And as for the state of America itself, no comment. Everything that America is going through politically, socially, culturally and economically is a direct blow-back from “Manifest Destiny,” that old Anglo-Saxon imperialist psychosis–or from America’s tried and true domestic policies of Keep The Niggers Down At All Costs. Neither Trump, nor the GOP, nor even those moderate Republicans such as George Will and the late Charles Krauthammer have any ideological ground to stand on when the facts are stacked against one another. The one cold fact that matters in the end (when all other facts concerning the state of America are considered) is that the country, simply put, is a shithole–a shithole with wings.

For those of us who aren’t white (you know, the Negroes), the country was a shithole from the word GO. Many blacks will disagree vehemently with this statement and argue that they are doing just fine, thank you. There is no shortage of Afro-Americans who will drape themselves in The Flag and talk about how lucky they are to have been born Americans. After 399 years of living in a slop jar you can come to feel rather fond of it. But a shithole is still a shithole, even with a massive barrel full of Popeye’s Chicken Wings set inside of it.