Archive for September, 2004

Bush and Kerry Agree: The Borders Must be Protected!

Near the beginning of the presidential debates, I heard words that shocked me so much that I almost woke up.

Senator Kerry said “the border must be protected.” Bush agreed with him absolutely and raised him one. He replied, “The borders must be CLOSED.”

Surely I wasa dreaming. They COULDN’T have said what I thought they said.

Well, they weren’t. They were talking about IRAQ’s borders.

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Martha Stewart’s New Home

Martha Stewart is being sent to Alderson Federal Prison. I used to live in Alderson. My doctor brother “dodged the draft” by being a prison doctor for two years with the Public Health Service. One of those years was spent at Alderson.

That was about 1956. Two of the prisoners there were Tokyo Rose, a Japanese-American who had broadcast from Japan during World War II, and Axis Sally, a German-American who had broadcast from Berlin during the same period.

They used to hold plays, and in one play Axis Sally played the part of George Washington.

Alderson is a lovely place, very near White Sulfur Springs Resort.

It was off season, and my Austrian bride and I happened to be in White Sulfur Springs. It was my wife’s first Thanksgiving in America and I asked where we might get some turkey and so forth. She told us to go to a certain country club.

It turned out that one of the members of that country club had been a traveling salesman. Many times he had been away from home on Thanksgiving. So he had retired to his home town and every Thanksgiving he set out a spread and drinks for absolutely anybody in White Sulfur Springs.

We ate, we got drunk, we met everybody.

As for Martha Stewart, if she had not said her conviction was a “right wing conspiracy,” I would be on her side.

I have seen a lot of prisons from the inside. Alderson was the best of them.

A rich liberal deserves much, much worse.

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From Your Poet Laureate

For about a week I wrote nothing in this blog. Now, with my team’s encouragement, I am back to thinking of things to say.

Because this causes me joy, I have composed some inspiring verses to celebrate it:

Last week I had writer’s block,
My words were getting fewer.
Now the writer’s block is gone.
I’m pouring like a sewer.

– Robert Wadsworth Whitaker

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Yes, Virginia, There is a Gruntle

I told Don that he was going to make my impeccable reputation peccable.

That reminded me of the word “disgruntled.” It makes you wonder if anybody was ever gruntled.

Well, I don’t know whether peccable is a word, but gruntle is. It means exactly the opposite of what it sounds like. The old English word “gruntled” meant “pleased.” That is why “disgruntled” means displeased.

But can you imagine a word that sounds less like happy than gruntled?

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Uncle Remus

Most of us older Southerners are familiar with the Uncle Remus stories about Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox and Brer Bear, but a lot of younger people have never even heard of them.

A lot of older people will say their parents read the Uncle Remus stories to them. Well, that is not exactly true. Their parents might have TOLD them the Uncle Remus tales from the now-banned Disney movie, “Song of the South.” But their parents didn’t read the original tales to them and they didn’t read those tales themselves.

The actual stories were written in a forgotten language.

Henry Chandler was from Atlanta, where he was a boy during the Civil War. The tales he wrote were supposedly those told by Uncle Remus, an old slave.

But the important point is that Chandler wrote those tales to be read by literate Southerners in his own day. Literate Southerners back then had all been raised around blacks and largely raised BY black folks. They understood the old Plantation black English perfectly.

Today, trying to read Uncle Remus stories is exactly like trying to read fourteenth century English. Like fourteenth century English, the language of Uncle Remus ranges from very hard to incomprehensible.

Today I cannot be sure people know what I am talking about when I talk about the Tar Baby Story or the briar patch. When I was young, that was part of our everyday parlance. It never occurred to me that I could mention the moral of one of those stories and people wouldn’t understand what I was talking about.

In exactly the same way, it never occurred to Henry Chandler that Southerners in the future would not understand the Plantation English they were all raised around. Neither do today’s blacks.

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Cracks are Appearing in the F.C.C.

No, I don’t mean the Federal Communications Commission. I mean the Faithful Colored Companions. Up to now, non-whites have been looked upon politically as nothing more than the Faithful Colored Companions to liberals.

From a political point of view, all the colored folks look alike. So the Democratic Party spends tens of millions of dollars “to get out the minority vote.” To the Democratic Party all brown folks look alike, and they put their money where their mouth is.

Recently the Chicago city council adopted a resolution concerning self-contained black communities where blacks would own the businesses. Naturally all hell broke loose.

You see, this idea of a separate black community is a lot like what they called “separate development” in South Africa under the white government.

To make matters worse, the resolution was specifically aimed at protecting blacks against business takeovers in the black community not by whites, but by mostly non-white immigrants. Those immigrants are taking over and setting up all the businesses in black areas.

As I keep pointing out, we are in a new age. In the past there were two permanent, established minorities in America, blacks and Jews. We are moving into an age when everybody is part of a minority.

And each minority, including whites, will have to fend for itself.

The Chicago situation is just a little crack in the old “whites versus liberals and their Faithful Colored Companions” pattern.

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Growth of Stormfront.ORG

Stormfront had the good taste to feature me as a special guest a little while ago. It is White Nationalist.

To become members of Stormfront.ORG people register with them and take pseudonyms.

My pseudonym is “Bob Whitaker of WhitakerOnline.org.” I have been told that this a dead giveaway as to who I am and the government will find out.

I doubt it. I used to work for the government and I don’t think they could figure it out if I put my fingerprints on it.

But what is important is how this white nationalist site is becoming a grassroots rebellion against Political Correctness. Here are the numbers:

Member #35,000 —- will it be Sept. 30th, 2004?
Member #34,000 —- Sept. 7th, 2004
Member #33,000 —- August 15th, 2004
Member #32,000 —- July 23, 2004
Member #31,000 —- July 1st, 2004
Member #30,000 —- June 11, 2004
Member #29,000 —- ?
Member #28,000 —- May 8, 2004
Member #27,000 —- April 15, 2004
Member #26,000 —- March 22, 2004
Member #25,000 —- February 27, 2004
Member #24,000 —- January 29, 2004
Member #23,000 —- January 2, 2004
Member #22,000 —- December 12, 2003
Member #21,000 —- November 16, 2003?
Member #20,000 —- October 21, 2003
Member #19,000 —- September 25, 2003
Member #18,000 —- September 2, 2003
Member #17,000 —- August 15, 2003
Member #16,000 —- August 2, 2003
Member #15,000 —- May 21, 2003
Member #14,000 —- April 30, 2003
Member #11,300 —- February 11, 2003

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Practicing at the Bar

In case you think Political Correctness is something new, let me disabuse you of that idea. In case you think that Political Correctness is something that was until recently confined to liberal universities in liberal parts of the country, let me disabuse you of that notion, too.

I entered the University of South Carolina at age sixteen, in 1957, and Political Correctness was already alive and well then. South Carolina was not one of the more liberal parts of the country. But all universities already followed the Politically Correct code: liberal freedom of speech is for liberals only.

PC was alive and well long before then and I knew that in the year 1957. We just didn’t have a name for it.

From the day I hit campus I was very active in right-wing politics, some of which I can actually tell you about. Some years later I tried to get a John Birch Society unit started on campus. The faculty wouldn’t let me. Even then, a Communist Party unit would have been welcome in the name of Free Speech but the far right was verboten.

I expected that problem before I entered the University of South Carolina. Even in 1957 every literate person, including a sixteen-year-old, knew from the get-go that Liberal Free Speech meant free speech for liberals only.

We did not have the term Political Correctness, but it was understood. So when my more respectable campus political groups met, I sometimes found a sponsor. When I couldn’t find a sponsor, we met in a meeting room on campus until we were reported and the campus police showed up. This was routine.

When were kicked off the campus — again –we adjourned to one of the two dozen beer joints around the University.

I was always welcome there and I knew which beer joint would have a place for us to meet at any given time.

For reasons I need not go into I was known and treasured by every beer joint jockey in the area. Mixed drinks were not permitted in South Carolina, so the students went to beer joints, some more than others.

I was one of the above-mentioned “some.”

So when we were routinely booted off campus after informers told the Administration that “one of Whitaker’s groups” had taken over a meeting-room on campus, we went to a local beer joint to hold our meeting.

In other words, since we students could not hold a right-wing meeting on campus, we held our meetings in beer halls.

Does this ring a bell?

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