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By The Numbers
It occurred to me yesterday that some wokester / Pantifa type (you all know the people I mean) might take issue with my statement in Comments, following my use of the dreaded Word That Shall Not Be Spoken (nigger):
I’m more African AND more American than most people of the Pantifa/BLM persuasion…
To use the revolting modern expression: let’s “unpack” that sentence.
- I was born in Africa and lived there for thirty years.
- My family has lived in southern Africa since before 1690, a little longer than many of the so-called “Bantu” tribes, who only made their way south from central Africa in the late 1700s and early 1800s.
- I speak one African language (would be more, but my Zulu and Sotho… oy).
- I’ve lived in America for thirty-four years, and been a U.S. citizen for thirty.
Any way you slice it, I’m far more African than the average native-born Black person, and I’m more American than any recent African immigrant (e.g. Somali, Nigerian, etc.) by virtue of a.) my citizenship and b.) my length of domicile in the U.S.
“Aha!” a wokester may say triumphantly, “but you’re not Black!”
So it’s all about skin color? Well… now who’s the racist?
[exit, singing Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika]
Same Advice, Different Situation
I see that the Pantifa / Black oLives Matter crowd have taken to invading restaurants now:
Chanting “silence is violence,” the protesters demanded that people they encountered in the street, as well as the patrons of various restaurants, raise their hands to indicate solidarity with the goals of BLM.
My natural inclination to this kind of neo-Nazi thuggery and intimidation, of course, would be to raise my fist in solidarity, thus: 
…but that would probably be unwise. Let me therefore remind everyone that the proper initial response to this nonsense is to insert earplugs in the proper manner: 
This should be done for two reasons: firstly, it will help drown out the silly chanting of this little shits.
I shouldn’t have to tell y’all the second reason, which might be necessary after you’ve put in the earplugs and then raised your (left*) fist in the manner above, and the Pantifastas take umbrage and attempt to do violence to you because they were “provoked”. (Personally, I might be provoked to violence just by having some pasty-faced little middle-class weenie screaming in my face, but no doubt somebody’s going to have a problem with this.)
Anyway, this public service announcement comes on the heels of the first one. Always have earplugs handy, folks.
*right hand, if you’re left-handed.
Nobody There
I see that the Stupid Party did well the other night:
C-SPAN’s live stream of night one of the Republican National Convention (RNC) garnered nearly 440,000 views, a major increase over the start of the Democratic National Convention that drew 76,000 views.
That’s because most voting supporters of the Democratic Socialist Party were either out looting, or still in the cemeteries.
Not Racism
Here’s another example of the stupid calling out the equally-stupid:
Bette Midler faced an angry backlash last night after ridiculing Melania Trump’s accent and calling her an ‘illegal alien’ while the first lady spoke at the Republican National Convention. The award-winning performer, 74, launched a tirade against Melania on Twitter in which she said: ‘Oh, God. She still can’t speak English.’
Midler was immediately branded a ‘racist’ and ‘xenophobe’ by critics including Piers Morgan, and accused of ‘dunking on an immigrant’ who became a US citizen after emigrating from Slovenia in the 1990s.
When faux outrage is uttered, can Piers Morgan be far behind? Let’s attack this quantum stupidity on all fronts, starting with the woman who got her start singing in the Turkish baths of New York.
Dear Bette: after you reach a certain age, your vocal cords stiffen, becoming less and less able to speak in different tongues, so to speak, without retaining your original accent. (The cut-off age seems to be about age 18 or so.) That’s why it’s best to teach young children a foreign language as early as possible rather than attempting to do so as adults. After nearly a quarter-century of living in the United States, for example, my own accent is irretrievably that of my native Johannesburg — for the simple reason that I was in my early 30s when I embarked on the Great Wetback Episode and my vocal cords were as stiff as boards by then. I can imitate the occasional Joyzee or Texan phrase, but not carry on an entire conversation in the patois without sounding like an idiot. (When speaking Afrikaans, however, my accent is perfect — no South African can tell if I’m Afrikaans or “English” — simply because from birth I grew up speaking both English and Afrikaans.) So if the First Lady — who emigrated Over Here in her 20s — still has much of her native Slovenian accent, that’s why. It’s not stupidity, Bette, and certainly nowhere near the level of yours.
Let’s move on to Our Piers and his ilk. If I make fun of an Irish or Scottish accent, or (to be even less microscopic) a French or German one — which I frequently do — how can it possibly be “rayciss” when all members of the above, including myself, are of the same (sorta-Aryan) race? It’s a simple matter of confusing “race” with “ethnicity”, unless we’re going back to the time when talking about the Irish or Spanish “races” when meaning ethnicity. The problem for these dweebs is that there’s no pejorative term for ethnic mockery or chauvinism, so they have to get sloppy and use the “eeeeevil rayciss” epithet. It’s not only imprecise but incorrect; but I don’t expect morons like Morgan to understand that.
And finally: making fun of other people’s accents is about 50% of all humor, and maybe still more in my case. I mock, with equal frequency and ferocity, the various accents which make up these United States and Europe — whether Joyzee, Texan, Frog, Kraut, whatever — and that’s all fair game and funny; but as soon as I be makin’ fun of Ebonics, nigger, or mock an actual African expression like “Aiiiisssshhhh, yehbo Bra!” that’s suddenly OMG Beyond The Pale [sic] ?
Fuck that for a tale. All these Wokesters and scolds can kiss my lily-white African-American ass.
Afterthought, for Bette Midler: Melania Trump speaks five languages, while you speak only one, stupidly.
Not That Bad
Via Insty (thankee Squire), I see that our favorite shooting rag has a piece about a new Bond Arms Derringer:
Speaking personally, I think it’s pig-ugly; but no doubt someone will soon be telling me how matte is the new black, or something, and all the cool kids are carrying it. Whatever. I like ’em shiny (and without that sissy trigger guard):
But anyway, it was Insty’s comment which got my attention:
IT’S BASICALLY A .45 DERRINGER, SO I EXPECT IT TO KICK
That has not been my experience (remember that I am an infamous recoil wussy). I’ve had two of these beauties in my time — in .45 Long Colt /.410ga, and in .38 Spec/.357 Mag — and I didn’t find the recoil in any of the four chamberings to be too unpleasant. Here’s why.
I think that the teeny lil’ barrel helps. Basically, it seems to me that before the burning powder can get up to full oomph in the chamber, the boolet has already left the building, so to speak. Even .410 slugs were stout, but quite manageable — especially when you remember that Derringers are “halitosis-range” guns, in that even if the scumbag doesn’t immediately die from the boolet, the muzzle flash should set his fucking clothes on fire to complete the carnage. And forget the loss of muzzle velocity from the tiny barrel — at 4″ distance from the target, it’s very much a moot point.
I wouldn’t want to let off hundreds of rounds of serious centerfire ammo in a single session at the range with a Bond Arms Derringer, mind — half a dozen would do just fine, thank you — but frankly, even a dozen-odd rounds of .45 ACP wouldn’t be too much of an imposition on one’s shooting hand.
What I’ve always liked about the Bond Arms guns is that they are heavy, baby — which means if you hold it in your hand and give someone a swift smack on the side of the head with it, he is going to go down.
Manly guns. I love ’em.