THE RAREFIED REALM

NATIONAL DAY OF CONSENT APRIL 21, 2010

2009-04-21T15:14:00.009-04:00

FOUR-TWENTY PLUS ONE
written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS
www.ThornePeters.com

I write this with a heavy heart, as my fate is sealed by my own design on April 21, 2010. Since the oppressive hypocrisy surrounding Marihuana has become intolerable, I will lay down the gauntlet and fall on the sword for all who cannot or will not . . . thus my purpose on Earth.

After partying the night away at a rally of freethinking hedonists at Overton Park in Memphis, TN on the International Pot Smoker Day of April 20th, I will report to 201 Poplar (our local jailhouse) with a blazing blunt in my mouth and my dope sack in my pocket to demand that I be taken to their leader. Once inside their arcane system of injustice, I will stand mute to their mundane charges, as I do not recognize the right of this government to treat me like a criminal for breaking their arbitrary laws. of injustice.

Since I will not relent, I will be held in contempt of court, and since my contempt for a system that favors law over justice will never ebb, I will be in for the long haul. I will stay in prison for the rest of my life before I would ever plead GUILTY when I am INNOCENT. I will accept no writ of Habeus Corpus, so buckle up.

By contending that Marihuana is a controlled substance, I will legally defeat them by bashing them over the head with their own ill-logic. They label Marihuana as an illegal drug so that they can have an unnatural control over our right to choose the pursuit of happiness. But unlike drugs, such as alcohol, cigarettes, aspirins and drugs, Marihuana is a natural herb growing wild until the government chooses to control it even though it goes through no control process. Our country was founded on the concept of limited government intervention into our personal lives in order to prevent the societal chaos this billion dollar blunt hunt is wreaking.

If only 25 million Marihuana smokers would join me, and go chief up at their local precincts, we could confound their system of oppression to the point of extinction and secure a vital personal freedom for generations to come. It is national despotism to inflict laws on personal behavior. You the people need to exercise your inalienable right to mind your goddamn business and no other . . . I know I will.

In order to broaden the scope of my personal crusade, I will personally launch the first annual NATIONAL DAY OF CONSENT on April 21, 2010, so you the people can choose which laws against life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness you wish to fight.

We must find the collective logic to understand that there is a difference between committing a crime and breaking the law. Laws are voted on by man so they are ever-changing, whereas crimes have always been the same and remain beyond a vote. We will never get to vote on legalizing rape . . . a real shame. You can only get away with murder if you do it in the name of God and/or government. You can't steal by vote . . . unless you're a Gypsy.

Once upon a time it was against the LAW to free Negroes; women weren't allowed to vote; interracial couples were jailed unless the lynch mob got'em; abortions were done in back alleys; people couldn't practice certain religions . . . particularly NO religion at all. It is no more a criminal act to sell Marihuana now as it was to sell booze decades ago. This is why laws need to be out of the reach of a political process, because politicians seek to rally a majority to deny minorities their liberties rather than support them. Prohibition is oppression---not only for the individual, but for our society entire.

When the moron majority voted in Prohibition back in 1921, they voted out trillions of tax dollars, which bankrupted the government and created a slush fund for organized crime, enfranchising them into the richest most powerful industry in the world inside a decade. Citizens went insane or blind or died off the unregulated hooch. Innocent citizens were taken out in drive-by shootings and speakeasy bombings. This dramatic loss of wealth sent the nation spiraling down a decade-long Depression that saw 1 in 3 Americans out of work . . . the chaos was merely a prelude to disaster.

Because we were so broke in the early 1930s, we could not respond when Chancellor Hitler began rearming Germany in violation of the Versailles Treaty. We were helpless to intervene when he began his blitzkrieg across allied European nations. By the time we exorcised this madman after a dozen years of tyranny and genocide, 20 million were dead-20 million were living in ruins.

Sound familiar? It should, because here we are again---a fortune in taxes going up in smoke on America's leading crop, while the economy suffers. Not only do we have to deal with the direct loss of revenue, but it is exponentially compounded by the fortune we spend to keep this plant illegal. Politicians call for more taxes for more law enforcement then spend 2/3 of it to fight vice crimes---the war to keep us from getting high and laid is unworthy of our land of liberty and puts 100 million lives at risk every sundown.

Do we really need multimillion dollar copper choppers in the air wasting all this high tech police intervention searching for Cannabis? How are we protected or served by this fruitless endeavor? Are we any safer in our communities when they find a dope field? Do people take the bars off their windows when the cops bust a dope house?

The one constant in the universe is the communal stupidity of mankind . . . it has been passed down in tact through time and across cultures. The more people weigh in on an issue the less chance we have of finding the correct outcome. To date, 99.9-plus percent of the world has been philosophically wrong 100 percent of the time about every single solitary issue, aspect and outlook. It has always been the thinking of the few---often THE ONE--- that epically propels the world forward in spite of the pedantic masses. After one of my prolific pontifications that ignores tradition and and eschews convention, I have often been derisively asked: "So you think you're right and everyone else is wrong?" That lets me know I'm on the right track.

Many knew the Earth was round and moved, in spite of the Biblical assertions to the contrary, but ONE visionary scientist had the courage to stand before The Inquisition and face the consequences for expounding a truth the masses could not conceive . . . a declaration that cost him his freedom. Now, every five year old knows what Galileo knew.

ONE unassuming teacher in Dayton, Tennessee dared to break the law by teaching evolution instead of creationism and his arrest launched the "Scopes Monkey Trial" of the century. Now schools may no longer teach creationism dogma because of John Scopes. Often you need not be brilliant or articulate to conjure waves of change---usually it is a matter of finding the courage to speak what a mass minority feel, but fear proclaiming publicly out of a sense of what others may think of them or what they would have to suffer.

I have been publicly vilified for being a Pot Head by people on drugs; by people who have smoked Pot with me or have asked me to get Pot for them. This is why hypocrisy is the one unforgivable sin, because you cannot atone for selling out others to hide your base desires.

We take pride in seeming socially moral, which creates the immorality of laws. People go to church, court, the PTA and decry the use of Marihuana and act as if it is a scourge then go home and hide under the covers taking bong loads. They denounce Pot as if it were a drug then go home and swallow a cornucopia of narcotics which they rationalize with a prescription . . . the way ELVIS did till he dropped dead on the toilet from a decade of prescription drug abuse. No one has ever died of a Marihuana overdose . . . if you could die that way, I'd be long gone.

People don't stagger out to their cars on Weed-they don't commit crimes to get their dope sack-they don't hook their bodies to feed their jones-you don't call off from work because you're too stoned-we don't have to go get our stomachs pumped after a night of heavy toking. How many people have ever been killed in Marihuana-related accidents? Far less than will die from drugs and alcohol today alone . . . then there's all those innocent victims.

Marihuana is NOT a controlled substance; hemp is a naturally growing herb. When we destroy hemp fields we attack the eco structure of the planet. The government is out of control---yet again---disregarding humanity and ecology in the name of self righteousness. The government has lost sight of reality to focus on a crusade that they don't believe in but enforce out of a misguided sense of national morality . . . thus every crusade ever launched.

Once politicized, Marihuana ceases to be a jovial bud and becomes an insidious gateway drug that leads to heroin; rather than being regarded as a harmless vice in its own right, it is mentioned in the same breath with dangerous narcotics. If you smoke Pot, you support the drug cartels. Being a Pot advocate is to condone the failing youth of America. In spite of the intellectualism that surrounds Pot smoking sessions, Pot Heads are depicted as spaced out zombies who can barely mumble incoherently . . . as if we were on Loritabs or Zanex or Oxycotten.

Even though God gave Christians dominion over all the seed bearing plants right in Chapter One of The Bible, Christians demand Marihuana be kept illegal in the name of God---the guy who invented the stuff in the first place! Where in The Bible does your Jesus say: "Thou shalt not smoke Marihuana? Hebrew Rabbis have been smoking hemp and reading the Torah for millennia by faith, so Jesus would've been toking up with the rest of them.

Righteous cops will look the other way or throw out your stash without busting you, out of their own sense of integrity---they signed up to fight crime and bust criminals, so they feel demeaned hassling good people for an innocuous herb . . . and well they should. But police never look the other way for murderers, rapists and thieves . . . they don't take graft for crimes; only for broken laws.

Even responsible doctors now tell their pregnant patients to give up cigarettes and cut back on Marihuana. There is no study that shows smoking Marihuana in any way harms a fetus. We have even dispelled the myth that Marihuna kills billions of brain cells. It's a bad rap all around. Marihuana is like the friendly dolphin caught in the tuna net.

When will the government learn its lessons from the mistakes of the past? Now that booze is legal, the Jack Daniels family doesn't put out a hit on the Jim Beam family to cut into their sales. I don't have the Budweiser people threaten me if I buy Miller products at my nite club. If all drugs were legal, gangbangers would be out of business tomorrow. We would take away the option from a teen to go deal drugs rather than getting an education. Most telling, is that these drug cartels and gangbangers don't want drugs to be legal either . . . when your enemy supports your position, you are the enemy within!

Our government is charged with protecting us from others---not from ourselves. After a hard day giving our blood, sweat, tears and taxes to this government we should be able to pleasure ourselves in the way of our choosing without government intervention . . . unless someone else's good time endangers another against their will then send in the troops and take no prisoners.

I had hoped that our crack-smoking/down-low president would stop the madness, but he wants to lend himself to the moral hypocrisy that bankrupts America; his Victorian stance leaves us vulnerable around the world and unprotected on our streets . . . he's not a man of great moral conscience but he plays one on T.V.; he is clueless about executive authority, but he did stay at the White House last night. Always remember that it is immoral to criminalize immorality.

The only thing more precious to me than my own personal freedom is your personal freedom. Perhaps because I do not worship some mytho-God-thing, my love of Americanism is zealous and I will fight any enemy of the state that threatens to renege on the guarantee of liberty our forefathers pledged to us . . . even if the state is that enemy.

As it was in Vietnam, and now in the Middle East, and next in Mexico onto South America over the trafficking of drugs to eager American customers, we are creating enemies and taking lives to spread our version of freedom by Democracy, which is loaded with legislated values, morals, idealism and religion. If you do not accept our version of freedom your access to freedom is denied.

You see, freedom is a zero sum game---we either have it all or we have none at all. We cannot take pride that we have more freedom than oppressive dictatorships---freedom is not graded on the curve. Our false sense of freedom stems from our right to vote on the ways of our society . . . yet it is that very vote that robs of our right to choose, our right to consent and even our right to dissent.

Until we learn to support the rights of THE ONE then our democracy is nothing more than a dictatorship by consensus . . . we merely traded one monarch for a majority rule, yet the oppression is the same for those told that their freedom is being denied by the higher power of a mob.

Well, I am my own higher power; the ruler of the Isle of Me; a sovereign entity of ONE who cannot be usurped unless I invade the Isle of You. That is the American way---that is what the application of "Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness" was supposed to be . . . if it isn't hurting you then you are entitled to nothing more than voice your opinion. I have the right to be left alone to gather with my consenting adult comrades to smoke some fucking herb beyond any vote . . . if you cannot support that then you have no business calling yourself an "American" or claiming that we are a free nation . . . not when over 25 million people live one bust away from having their lives laid waste by the Weed Inquisition because they seek the euphoria that Marihuana brings. One of the great joys Mother Earth offers . . . and we thank her by partaking of her bountiful harvest.

At the writing of this, a quarter of a million people are incarcerated solely for Marihuana-related charges---their freedom stolen by the government charged with their protection . . . a million more will go through life with Marihuana-related charges hanging over them and impeding their every chance for advancement in a world that puts us in the same category and facilities with thieves, rapists, child molesters and murderers.

So we will see if one more body sacrificed to this siege will make any difference . . . MINE. I know 25 million souls will if they would just get on board. To quote Benjamin Franklin, when addressing the Continental Congress on the eve of the Revolutionary War: "We must certainly hang together or we shall certainly hang separately." So I will hang first and only hope that I don't twist in the wind alone . . . like Jesus, Socrates, Galileo and the Korean guy in front of the tank. I am content with this destiny. Sometimes you must sacrifice your freedom to protect your right to free will . . . or yours.

If you can't join me on the rack, then have the courage to support my quest for freedom by holding my coat . . . it's really not about the Pot. Remember when you were smoking Pot, and ask if you should've been incarcerated. If you are one of the dozen Americans left that hasn't tried Pot (there's actually one in this queue, but I adore her just the same) then think of someone you know who smokes Pot and decide if the world would be a better place with them behind bars. If President Obama had been popped as a teen crack head he wouldn't be president now.

As a philosopher, I pontificate that there is no value in seeking right and wrong concerning issues of personal choice---like art, opinions are subjective and cannot be subjugated. The onus of a philosopher is to discover what is true beyond opinion. And what is true about Marihuana is that it is a self contained personal choice that has no impact on society until citizens are falsely accused of committing a crime . . . . then all Hell on Earth breaks loose as innocent people are ruined.

So make sure you choose a side you're willing to die for, because this oppression is killing people from here to Columbia and their blood is on the hands of every upstanding American citizen who arrogantly believes they are exercising their rights when they vote to deny the rights of millions of their fellow citizens to do as they please to themselves and with consenting others. If my peaceful sacrifice of freedom doesn't tip the scales then I will go to Juarez Mexico and fight with the cartel against this barbaric Democratic regime that has the evil intent to legislate freedom at the point of a gun.

If you would like to join the struggle to support Marihuana without going to prison then just feed your Pot seeds to birds who will spread the herb everywhere they go . . . let's make Big Brother expend every resource and effort cleaning up bird crap.

So now we have 4-20 as our Holy High Day and on April 22 we worship the Earth, so next year let us declare April 21, 2010 as our first NATIONAL DAY OF CONSENT to fight for personal liberties by turning ourselves in for breaking the law of our choice while committing no crime or victimizing a soul. I'll smoke a joint at the precinct---hookers can walk the streets with a rate card around their necks and when the coppers roll up for the bust, the good Johns can step up and offer money. How many millions indulge in the hooker trade? Let's find out how many millions of citizens our government can criminalize at $40.000 per head. If we overwhelm them en masse we will force them to focus their resources solely on criminals and we will finally have a system of justice rather than a system of law that dispenses unilateral injustice. That's the America we've all been waiting for so now we must commit to thei social revolution so the dream comes true for the next generation . . . everafter.

Always remember to teach your children to Say "No!" to drugs----SMOKE POT!

EBONICS IS NOT A LANGUAGE!

2008-05-21T01:26:00.006-04:00

&%*$@#*!

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

“A man’s character can be learned from the adjectives he habitually uses in speech.”

—Mark Twain

My birthplace of Lynn, Massachusetts, has always been on the wrong side of the causeway. The working class stock there traces its heritage back to its heyday as the shoe repair capital of the nation, so our kind is not well regarded by the upper crust of Bostonian aristocracy. Lynn adopted the slogan: “The city by the sea”, but our neighbors along the North Shore aptly call it: “The city by the sewer” . . . they call it something much worse now that the place has been overrun by Puerto Ricans. Those of us from Lynn common have distinctly honed accents that are immediately identifiable to those from Boston proper, and they are not shy about correcting us or mimicking us . . . our dialect is far removed from the Back Bay brogue of the Kennedys. If you ever want to LYFAO, listen to a Bostonian tell a Lynnite: “You don’t drive a ‘caah’; you drive a ‘cah’.” Just because we mangle our R’s and A’s differently than the Harvard Yard crowd, we are dropped down the social register.
I moved away from Lynn when I was six years old, but I sure took my accent with me, which manifests itself when I’m around Eastcoasters or when I get emotional . . . after all these decades of working on my diction, I still have to consciously monitor my annunciation so I don’t sound like one of the High Rock Tower kids. Or in phonetic Lynnese: Hai Rawrk Towi keds.
When I moved to the waterfronts of East Boston, my rough dialect was accented by the raw profanity indigenous to the predominately Italian neighborhood, where adjectives and adverbs were narrowed down to tenses of the F-Word. The first people I heard spit out “motherfucker” were Italians—in our White world, Guineas served as Niggers. Being young, impressionable, and malleable I used emulation to seek acceptance, and swore like them to get along with them . . . but their ethnic hatred toward me was unrelenting no matter what I said or how I said it.
Many people feel it is hypocrisy to react with outrage when our kids use profanity, because it is inevitable that they will grow up and swear just like mommy and daddy does. But it is important to teach children how to speak properly so that they are able to decide how they want to represent themselves when they grow up . . . maybe they don’t want to sound like no ignoramus, but they haven’t developed a choice. As many doors are opened by a well placed word as are closed by saying the wrong word—especially a foul word that offends.
There is a correlation between speaking properly and acting appropriately. Actions like words must be taught and disciplined. When the little pickaninnies stand outside my window waiting for the bus at 7:30 a.m. hollering to each other, singing and chirping and shrieking spasmodically, it doesn’t occur to them that they are being rude because comportment is not one of their buzzwords. Kids will be kids, to be sure, but when asked to quiet down these little bruthaz and sistaz cuss you out. When you bring their actions to the attention of their parents, they stand up for the rude behavior of their kids as a cultural thang. When you take it to the management and the parents get threatened with eviction if they don’t control their kids, they become your enemy. The behavior of the child like the speech of the child must be monitored by the parent . . . preferably by a dad with a belt.
In a world where we are defined by our differences compared to the mainstream majority, next to our skin color, the way we speak is the most identifiable reason for acceptance or rejection—nothing tells the world who you are, where you’re from, what you’re about and where you’re headed as much as your choice of speech. How we communicate defines our chosen attitude. You can choose to sound like a thug or a scholar, regardless of your regional or cultural accent. You can use expletives or homilies to make your point, no matter where you come from. How we speak decides the level of respect we receive and from whom. If I want to impress you with my intellect, I will pontificate with purple prose and if I need to impress upon you that I’ve had enough of your friggen bullshit, I will use blue maledictions. I have an equal ability to espouse like a cunning linguist amongst the literati as I do to cuss like a longshoreman amongst the rabble. Don’t limit your speech to one sphere of influence.
Not every Brit is intelligent, but the sound of Queen’s English conjures the image of sophistication, just as a corn pone accent is known the world over as the sound of morons . . . below them is the ignorant sound of Negroes. All across the nation, Caucasians have a variety of accents—the Upper Peninsula people have a Canuck sound, the Mid Westerners have their particular drawl; each state of the South has their own twang, every borough in New York has distinct articulation, which is different from the other North Eastern states. Yet no matter where you go across this great land, the only dialect Negroes have mastered is country, which is the language of White trash in America . . . y’all remembers that now.
Even more problematic in our struggle to relate to the integrated Negro is that they are becoming ever more unintelligible with each generation, which only widens the racial divide. One night I’m at the club deejaying and a Black stripper comes up to me and introduces herself as, something like: “Burty”. So I repeat: “Berty; like short for Roberta?” She says: “No. It’s Buuurty.” I inquire: “Birdie; like a little Birdie?” And she responds: “Noooo! My name is Burrr-ty.” So I ask her to spell her name for me and she spells: B-E-A-U-T-Y, then says: “Burty”. Now the funniest part is that she goes over to one of the other dancing sistaz and says: “That deejay don’t know how to spell Burty.”
The school system is improperly labeled as a racist institution for emphasizing subjects like literature, math and science instead of subjects that are of interest to Blacks like cartoons, Hip Hop, gangs and fashions. Negro students are taught by their folks and peeps to reject White American history and White American literature and follow the party line of their race leaders. Each generation of Negro school kids in the Civil Rights era are provided with more reasons to fail than their predecessors and when we excuse failure we enable it. Because teachers no longer want to deal with the winless scenario of trying to educate Negroes, they leave them to their own devices, which guarantee their failure across the board and drives them further into the woodwork of their subculture looking for a venue to thrive in. If a teacher corrects the annunciation of a Black student, they could be suspended; if they recommend that a Black kid work on their stuttering problem, they will be chastised for racial insensitivity; if they suggest that a Negro with poor grades and low scores think about learning a trade, they will be branded a “bigot” and suspended or fired.
Of all the sorriest complaints by Negroes in the here and now, centuries removed from their last African ancestor, is their claim of being culturally annihilated because their native tongue was taken away and they were forced to learn the language of the White slave massah. The reason this is utter nonsense is that there are over two thousand indigenous languages to Africa and no more than a fifth of the country speak any one language. There are over one hundred official languages in Africa; in South Africa they managed to lower the total to eleven. English is the only official language that is imported, which means from Africa to America, through the English language, more Negroes are able to communicate with each other than at any time in the history of their culture . . . and communication paves the road to peace.
A massive failure to communicate tragically ended my union with Pastor Andre Guy, after a three year arc of co-starring on our radio show and joining to write our dichotomous compendium THE HIGHER GROUND. We were able to get past the Black & White thing; even the Pastor & the Atheist thing; but his unwillingness to work on his pronounced stammer and mispronounced articulation, put us at odds we could not overcome. Each week he would promise to work on his diction and by the following show he would arrive in a combative state, because he knew he hadn’t put forth the effort to change the results of his unintelligible performance. By the time we got to our book signing at Barnes & Noble, he was so overwhelmed by the surroundings and embarrassed by his speech, he spoke in an inaudible, hoarse whisper while sweating profusely. After I spent fourteen months toiling away to write our book, he crashed and burned on the launch pad and the week after the book signing he quit the show, which ended our promotion of the book . . . all because he would not W-O-R-K to improve the condition of his speech.
Caucasians constantly focus on the way that Negroes disarticulate the English language, yet White folks have plenty of diction issues, particularly below the Mason Dixon line. Most every region mangles the use of “th”. Negroes habitually say: “Birfday” and “Bafroom”; Texans say: “Gis and Gat”; Easterners say: “Dese, dem and dose”. But Negroes have so many impediments simultaneously working against them that it is physically painful to listen to most of them for any length of time. It’s like calling some Hindu when you’re trying to get your computer fixed and you don’t know a lot about computers, so the terminology is difficult and when it is compounded by a person speaking some form of hybrid English with a queer accent it makes you want to rip your phone out of the wall while cursing them for their fork tongue.
Though the mistakes Negroes make are common to us all, the difference is that White children are taught to stop making those mistakes. My daughter said: “Bafroom”, but I painstakingly corrected her. She had that same ignorant habit, as do most children, of talking loud when they get carried away, but we correct these habits in our children by pointing out that they are low class. I can remember being corrected for saying: “You know?” after every sentence. “No I don’t know or you wouldn’t be telling me” the adults would reply until I quit saying it. Now the uneducated conclude each sentence with: “and shit”.
These persistent gaffes create another strain of racial tension for us to deal with, because grown ups don’t like to be corrected and Negroes are by-and-large a race of little kids that you have to constantly instruct, so something’s gotta give. “Don’t say ‘bafroom’, say ‘bathroom’.” “Don’t talk at the top of your lungs to the person sitting next to you, because it is rude.” “Don’t walk around holding your penis, because it’s disgusting.” These mistakes, indigenous to children, will permeate in adults if not corrected. Unfortunately, telling a Negro that they are acting rude or that they are incorrect or improper is the same as calling them a Nigger in their book, so these poor traits are nurtured until they become second nature.
Here in Memphis, they have a Memphis in May fair that brings in businesses from around the country to set up vending booths. One lady from Wisconsin was working a booth and stood their stumped while a group of Negroes were placing their order and trying to small talk with her. They were friendly and animated, as they yakked on, in their usual loud tone, but she was visibly nerve wracked because they were obviously asking her about something and expecting an answer and all she could do was have them repeat themselves, slower each time, which was grating to all parties. After a moment of enjoying her predicament, I went over and began translating for her, like Harriet Nelson in Airplane. When they left, she breathed a sigh of relief and asked me what language they were speaking. She didn’t even recognize it as English; she thought it might be Creole . . . I told her it was Memphrican.
Her encounter illustrates how disconcerting it is to have a conversation with an unintelligible person. I watched her placid, pleasant features screw into frustration as her brow furrowed and her eyes darted around looking for relief. It was only her sense of manners that prevented her from turning her back and ignoring them, which is not the attitude of a person in business hoping for customers. But she would rather lose business than do business with them, because dealing with them was unbearable. The more she asked them to repeat what they were saying, the more they copped an attitude when repeating it, which really set her jaw. It was clear they picked up on her apprehension; they cast furtive glares back at her as they walked away mumbling and shaking their heads, no doubt allowing themselves to believe she was some uptight racist bitch. In part they were correct, because she saw that they were growing agitated with her and she grew nervous that she would find herself in the center of an angry mob— we just never know what’s going to incite them to riot and that kind of fear is the seed for racial hatred . . . all because Negroes mush mouth their way through the English language as part of some misguided Civil Rights agenda.
In part, their inability to enunciate is cultural. They generally do not make sounds that require them to use their tongues, because it is considered sissified—an opinion they maintain during foreplay. So instead of saying: “Children” they say: “Chiddren” . . . and if there’s more than one . . . “Chiddrens”. Many of the African dialects have a repetitive B or W sound at the beginning of a word, so they naturally stutter on that sound, particularly when it is at the beginning of the word. Also, they’re practically natural born ventriloquists, because they hardly move their mouths while speaking. Their language is designed to be projected over their shrieking counterparts or opponents, so the sounds of their languages are quick and guttural—it’s not what you say, it’s how loud and long you say it that wins arguments in their world, as theirs is not a cultural built on subtleties of word or deed . . . much the way our Senate operates.
African culture is not interested in literature by heredity; Africans never even invented a written language. So when they are obligated by Caucasian sensibilities to go to school and learn their Three-R’s, it goes against their grain on a deeply subconscious level that manifests in defiance—Negroes treat education as if it were brainwashing. When they do poorly in school, overall, they feel as if they’ve been set up for failure and it gives them the fuel to complain that they are being forced to live in the White world against their nature. Thus, Negroes that place a premium on education and articulation are tagged by the hoodrats for selling out their race to conform to the White man’s image of a Black man. Blacktivist politrickans are the first to defend a Negro’s right to be ignorant, unintelligible and uneducated, because it makes them easier to exploit and manipulate.
While managing a collection agency in the ‘80s, a rough looking young Black dude came in for a job. Now collection agencies will hire any warm body that passes for a knockoff yuppie and can read the spiel. He was dressed in cords and sneakers and didn’t think to wear a tie to a job interview in an office. When it came time to read the talk-off sheet, it was a Negro cliché—he drawled and stammered through these basic words and sounded them out as if they were written in a foreign language. Even when expressing himself, he was unintelligible to the other managers who had never been to jail and couldn’t guess at the words he was trying to say.
Rather then giving him a smile and a black slap, while delivering the old brush off line: “We’ll be in touch”, I mistakenly tried to help this individual by critiquing his presentation and offering him some valuable advice to prepare for his next job interview. I told him to wear a pair of slacks and a tie and I told him to work on his verbalization skills by reading out loud every day. He responded by calling me a: “stone cold racist” and informed me that he didn’t need to talk like no “motherfucking Whiteboy” to get some “punk ass job”. Then he looked at the half dozen Black collectors that had the qualifications to work there and concluded that we had filled our quota of: “House Niggaz”.
He came in with a piss poor attitude like he was expecting not to be hired, because he knew he didn’t have the qualifications, so his obvious limitations made him compensate by adopting an offensive demeanor. He walked away feeling as if he was a victim of racial discrimination and no doubt used this moment as justification for a life of crime . . . when asked on death row why he done killted them peoples for they car, he tolted them it was because some blue-eyed, Jew slave master wouldn’t let him speak Ebonics in the big office and so he was forced to commit crimes to avoid honorably performing manual labor.
Because instances like this occur so frequently when dealing with Negroes, we don’t say: “Screw that Nigger!” We say: “Screw those Niggers!” This is because Negroes represent a collective mindset. I’m sure when he told the tribe how Whitey done kept him down, his peeps rallied in support of his outrage against Honkies and used his example as an excuse not to bother . . . if Whites are going to keep demanding articulation, education and qualifications in order to hire and promote, a Negro doesn’t stand a chance unless he spends his free time studying instead of hanging. C’mon People! Everyone needs to learn elocution and articulation to have a chance. Many people mistake articulation for education. There are many well spoken idiots out there. (See television anchorpersons for an example.) But people who sound uneducated are always uneducated, because they don’t know no better.
Every culture on Earth has a manner of speech, a natural cadence to their utterances, an emotional expression, a genetic tone, and a great desire to communicate. In order to speak English or, more to the point, American, we have to overcome centuries, maybe millenniums, of verbal heredity to converse in our national language correctly in our own way. Every era adds its own style, by reworking the meaning of words and twisting phrases. Culturally, there are sayings that define their people and their place and their outlook. Because of the ethnic diversity of this land, many accents have formed that are native to their region. But we all must meet on a common ground to fundamentally learn the English language in the classroom. A preposition is a preposition for Black kids in Harlem, White kids in Massachusetts, Hispanics kids in Texas, Asians kids in California, and every other mix or group of those who live in the good old U.S.A., from the mountains to the valleys to the deserts to the ghettos to the suburbs, from sea to shining sea. We must see to it that our language is enforced as the law of the land, by grading children on their ability to read, write and speak English. “Aksted” is not a word, no matter what color you are or what city you’re in.
Naturally Negroes have to make the language issue about race instead of country and demand that Ebony Phonics be accepted as their cultural language in school, court, college and society. Now you can be bilingual, if you learn to speak Ebonics; trilingual if you also can master Pig Latin. Soon there will be Ebonics 101 courses in college and Caucasians will learn it so we can work as interpreters. When you call municipalities, utilities, companies, banks and pizza delivery they want a “Press fo’ fo’ Ebonics” option. This is just another way that Negroes organize their failure. Mispronouncing words and using improper tenses and applying incorrect syntax and making grammatical errors common to six year olds and factoring in speech impediments, does not a language make.
The Doctor Doolittle mentality is not working. We must preserve the English language in America and insist that our citizens learn the language of our land as a matter of national security. Throughout Europe, which is Caucasian from Spain to Russia, there are thousands of languages that have divided that land and kept miscommunication at a fever pitch—how many people stood shouting at the jabbering infidels who took their cries as fighting words and lit the torch of war? The English language is the unbreakable bond that unites these territories we think of as states, so we must work to secure our language as an instrument of peace for future generations. We cannot allow language to reshape the borders of this nation, by accepting old-country languages as regional dialects. The first thing our Caucasian ancestors did when they got off the boat was learn how to speak English—even the Irish! We must enforce this edict now; anyone who doesn’t want to subscribe to the English language should get on a boat and head for the land where they speak your language of choice.

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2008-05-13T11:55:00.008-04:00

PUTTIN’ THE ROOF

ON THE CHURCH

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

“A man does not invoke the name of his father unless it is to excuse some wickedness

or folly.” —Frederick Douglass

In the 1970s, the inner city became the cause of the nuevo riche liberals—it was their way of doing missionary work without leaving the comfort of their sophisticated inner circles . . . they would help downtown causes from uptown venues then retreat to their penthouses and manors, where layers of security and police insulated them from dealing face-to-face with the sort of people they were sponsoring. It was fashionable to host gala fund raisers where the gilded class could see and be seen by all the right people in their role as humanitarian. Since you never look richer than when you stoop to help a po’ Black child, the privileged class found their polar opposites to demonstrate how far removed they were from the human equation. Stars and conglomerates were humanized in the public eye by aligning themselves with the struggle of the American Negro . . . it also gave them a cover of goodness to cloak themselves in when they did something illegal or despicable.
Black sociology provided the upwardly mobile with an arena for political activism to show their audience that they were enlightened and powerful enough to weigh in and affect policy in this country like real-life American heroes, riding to the rescue of the helpless with their checkbooks blazing. These Negropaloosas were coveted A-List events that rallied celebrities to stand in the glare to draw in big money star chasers who would pay a fortune for a rubber chicken dinner if it meant getting a grip and grin photo op with a big name . . . and also to help out the poor with a sizable, tax deductible donation.
Where the stars go, the media follows so an unnatural spotlight shone on the down and out, giving losers the proverbial fifteen minutes of fame for being abject failures. Since the socially elite made inner city causes a happening, those from a lesser ilk of wealth, fame and influence gathered in chintzier surroundings to raise healthy donations to help cure the Black pandemic and raise their Q-rating with the influential people they wanted to impress, hoping to buy their way up to the top functions with the biggest stars. In this climate, a person or group could achieve a higher class by the size of their contribution to Negroes, so African-American programs became the theme parties for Yuppies (Young Urban Professionals). It was a matter of keeping up with the Jones’; giving their all to Blacks provided the distinction of being anointed philanthropists.
To put a face on the largess and humanize the moment, the party organizers would reach into the morass of the slums and pluck out downtrodden examples of Black humanity to parade before the omnipotent assembly, so they could tell their stories about living in rat infested hovels, where filth and crime was overwhelming; theirs was a world of poverty and violence; they were bastard children without a father whose mothers were on drugs and Welfare; they lived a lifestyle of prostitution and drugs and crime to endure their sorry existence and the only chance that they had of being saved was if the White world delivered them from Negro life. The high and mighty would emotionally rise to shower the poor unfortunates with applause for being brave enough to suffer living with Negroes then patted themselves on the back for being concerned citizens.
At these events, rhetoric and hypocrisy reached new highs in lows, as ultra liberals with megabucks parroted the buzzwords of the cause to show how connected they were to the street scene. It was easy for them to institute busing in public schools, because their kids went to restricted private schools; they voted for fair housing in working and middle class communities, while their neighborhoods remained exclusively Protestant White by gentleman’s agreement . . . progress was to be the burden of the little people and their rich donations and broad legislation assured that the Negroes would not advance into their realm.
Those in power that seek to portray Negroes as barbaric refugees, promoted these programs and hosted these events and sponsored these bills, to erase any doubt of the comparable equality of Negroes to Caucasians—you never look more pitiful than when you’re begging for food and pity does not beget respect. While the handful of Blacktivists tried to perpetrate their fraud that Negroes were capable of running their own race, we had the testimony of millions of Black constituents confessing that they weren’t in order to get assistance from Whites . . . they sold out their race for the price of a samich.
After the flashbulbs died down and the work got under way on all this urban renewal, suddenly the target price wasn’t enough to get the job done and the fleecing began. Because of their collectively high profile, the do-gooders were on the hook to get the funds on time for the big ribbon cutting ceremony, or they’d have egg on their faces, so they had to use back door channels to get more and more money, to make sure that the gymnasium got finished, the park opened, the youth center got built, the books were delivered, and the food bank was stocked. It was all about “Puttin’ the roof on the church”.
Once up and running, the projects immediately began to flounder and needed an immediate infusion of money to keep going, which had to be done in order to perpetuate the notion that their charity was a success, and to prove the sincerity of the sponsors to committing to the outcome. Then funds were unaccounted for and past due notices were hitting the desks of these co-signers, and repossessions, foreclosures and bankruptcies were imminent if not for another butload of cash money. Then it turned out that the leaders of the rainbow caucuses were pocketing the money and setting up slush funds, and the intended demographic was not being serviced . . . what a shock. All of this threatened to make the impresarios look foolish, uncommitted or corrupt, so more money was thrown into damage control and lawyers to sort it all out and the cause they were championing was left in the dust.
By associating their wealth and/or celebrity with these allegedly charitable programs, they were identified with them and the successes and failures reflected on them. So when the children from a lesser hood needed books, or clothing, or shoes, or food the pastors came-a-calling for them to keep up their obligation; when members of the congregation were imprisoned, or homeless, or contracted a sexually transmitted disease, or got knocked up as teens, or murdered, the pastors reached out to their star association for support and a platform to bitch on. When they felt like their neighborhoods were targeted by police, just because so many crimes take place there, they wanted their star dog to get out there and woof against the system for them. The big dollars no sense crowd ended up being accomplices after the fact to the bedlam, because they had to join in the spin control to save their reputations.
The great Negro cause allowed liberal mugwumps and cult rabblerousers a forum to take the government to task for not doing even more than their fair share for the Urbanites in the ghettos and they shamed the wealthy Whites into making Negroes the great American cause with talk of slavery and Jim Crow imagery. It provided an endless agenda, because no matter how much the government and the private sector do for Negroes today, they have to do it all again tomorrow.
These rallies for Blacks were steeped in anti-American dogma and racial hatred toward the White race. It wasn’t enough that Negroes had the right to denigrate Caucasians and disparage the government, Whites were denied the right to ignore them and disagree with them. Since race issues and topics make for great sound bites, every politician had to be clear exactly what they were going to do for Black causes and how much they were going to give Black people. In this climate, no one was allowed to do one goddamn thing for the working White American Male unless they wanted to be boycotted and censured.
Not only did Ebonics make its way into the lexicon, we had to learn the jive spoken by Black politrickans. When Negroes say that we have to look to the future, they mean we must overlook their behavior and performance now; when they say that there needs to be change, it means that Whites need to give them more money. They don’t want to discuss the causes of racial divides, they want to enter their laundry list of complaints into the record and if we respond by filling out their wish list with positive actions that Negroes must take to affect these changes they sail into racist rhetoric and start crying a river to get more free money . . . Negroes have narrowed the definition of “opportunity” to mean being able to abandon their culture and their neighborhood.
To keep up appearances, the Blactivists talk about Blacks getting jobs and getting an education and raising their children and not being thugs, but the Coloreds know that this is just to get Whites to fall for their rap; to them, it is like a commercial break, so they can go make a snack while they wait for the blame game to begin and start whining for handouts.
The only reason that Big White Brother allows these Black interest groups saturation access to the mainstream, is so that they can make Negro platforms and platitudes look foolish; when these self anointed race leaders stutter and babble on about slavery and reparations then blame Whitey for the sorry ass condition of their shitty cities, they’re making the point for us. Blacks only rally to ask for handouts and call for boycotts; they never call a press conference to announce what they intend to do to serve their communities as productive peaceful citizens, by bringing commerce or offering labor and choosing to network within their own culture. This is precisely why the most militant Negro messages are given a full airing . . . it allows us to justify our terror of the Negro race and view them as an urban insurrection.
By the mid-’90s, the well ran dry and there were no more buckets of ducats for the American Negro. It took the Caucasian consensus a quarter of a century to realize that no matter how much they poured into Negro causes and people, there would never be a solution to their problems; there would never be a victory—just small moral battles fought to a draw at great cost in money and blood, while their street-by-street gang wars decimated our nation. Because the Negro masses distanced themselves from any semblance of gratitude for all they had received and chose instead to embrace the thug life and make heroes out of criminals and enemies out of corporate America, the uber class was turned off to their culture and withdrew their support for their own credibility. Post O.J., it was considered heresy for Caucasians to fund Negro causes and support Negro legislation, so Caucasian activists campaigned against propositions that sent Negroes to college to learn how to read, or hired and promoted them in spite of their lack of qualifications.
But the rich and famous could not abandon their position as philanthropists, and since they were constrained to giveaway ten percent of their income for charitable tax purposes they had to get some publicity and kudos for it, so they needed to find an outlet and that’s when they went offshore to help the starving Third World living in jungles and deserts . . . they were still dark people, so they were qualified to continue on in their role as pseudo-humanitarians.
The commercial Negroes of Generation X could not align themselves with inner city causes after Whitey bailed, because you never look blacker than when you stoop to help a Nigger and the last thing sponsors wanted was to highlight their black skin. During Civil Rights, the ghetto was equated with poverty; with Uncivil Rights in full force, the inner city means gangbangers. So helping their own kind a world away allowed them to hobnob with White power and avoid rolling around in the gutter with lowly Blacks—they were doing their part for the struggle without supporting thugs, which meant more Negroes were going to go bad without a cash intervention of White greenbacks.
Most appealing to all affluent parties is that they could feed a mud hut village for a year on what it took to support a family in the ghetto for a month. For the price of a wing in an American hospital, they could build a hospital in their name out in the bush. The city Negroes want good food, sharp clothing, a styling car, a fine home, modern schools and some bling, for which they will gladly shit in our hands and steal our wallets as repayment for slavery. On the bottom of the planet, those Negroes want a bowl of mush and a blanket, for which they will gladly kiss our feet and sob out our names with gratitude. However, in neither case do these Negroes ever spontaneously offer to work for their next installment . . . this recurring facet of Negroism illustrates that there are no degrees of separation for Negro failure, according to nature or nurture or location, and explains why their homeland is the most undeveloped nation on Earth, despite having the richest resources and their neighborhoods are the most crime ridden communities in America, despite receiving trillions is set-asides.
Even with all that has been done by Caucasians for Negroes, throughout the Twentieth Century—willingly through charitable fund rasiers and unwillingly through stifling tax increases to support Negroes and defend us against them—Caucasians are charged with not doing enough to help Negro causes because they are still failing miserably . . . this is what is known as “circular reasoning” and it always leads nowhere. See, the White pledge was to HELP Negro causes, not for us to live as indentured servants to Negro causes; not to subject our culture to theirs, so they could stand on our heads to make progress. Helping you with your homework doesn’t mean doing your homework and mine, while you smoke a blount and knock back a forty ouncer at the park.
Out of White guilt and Black justice, we atoned for our forebears, of our own character and accord, to take up the plight of the Negro as a national issue and we made unbelievable strides considering what we had to work with. What derailed the progress, was that Negroes did not lift a finger to aid us in our life and death struggle to help them—instead they curl their finger around the trigger and blow life away for everyone. We bring about urban renewal and they break out the spray paint; we build parks in their neighborhoods and they make them unsafe for children to play in; we build community centers and the gangs take them over as headquarters; we bus them to schools in suburban areas and they skip school to rob and carjack and burglarize.
Let’s say I take a million dollars and give it to an urban charity. Who is running that charity; some guy with a brougham and expensive clothes and a big office in Da Hood? How much of that mil is getting to the brothers of the struggle? A lot could get accomplished with that kind of money—computers for a couple of thousand kids; a special education center, to give them the additional tutoring they need and address their recurring, various impairments and impediments; a recreation center, to get them off the streets, and other places and things that would have a lasting impact on the destiny of the Negro. But since Negroes can’t sustain the basic elements of life, a million bucks goes to cheese for a million Negroes and they’re hungry later on that day, so there is nothing to show for our efforts . . . everything with them goes right in their mouths and comes straight out there asses, so they live life with their empty hands outstretched for more. After trillions of dollars of handouts and five decades of wet nursing, the Negro race is economically worse off then they were before Civil Rights, when they were forced to do for themselves and network with their own or perish, because Whites wanted no part of them.
If Caucasians had seen some positive results for their investment, they would have continued their support. But when the funders hear about the murder-robbery in the park they sponsored or that the monies they’ve raised are being misappropriated or that these baby mamas sold off the free computers for some crack, they distance themselves from the negativity and when that happens Negroes become venomous over being abandoned by Caucasians, as if we do not have a choice whether or not we want to dedicate our personal resources and efforts to enfranchising Negroes. Even worse than believing they’re owed something for nothing from Whites, they believe they’re under no obligation to show gratitude when we help them, which guarantees they’ve got nothing coming from us no more.
Wouldn’t it be great, just once, if Oprah and Robert Johnson and all the M.J.s, and A-Rod and Shaq, and Snoop Dog, and JET Magazine, and B.E.T. and the N.A.A.C.P. gathered for a single night in the Appalachian Mountains to raise money for the generationally impoverished Whites living there, just to give a little something back to the hand that feeds their people? Until Negroes learn to do for others, they will rightfully be regarded as unworthy bottom feeders who contribute nothing to the world—and who would want someone like that as a neighbor?

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2008-04-22T03:49:00.004-04:00

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THE BETTER PART OF VALUE

2008-04-22T00:56:00.007-04:00

UNEQUALLY YOLK

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

“All animals are equal; but some animals are more equal than others.”—George Orwell

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In 1964, the first wave of stock Ford Mustangs rolled off the assembly line with equal value to each other. Oh there might be some consumer preference to color, but their worth on the market was identical, since their individual abilities were undetermined. As with all things born of nature and man, some Mustangs performed better than others, some were lemons, some were champs, but their blue book listing on the market was equal, regardless of the background or the location of the owner.
Now we skip ahead these many decades and two people have their 1964 Ford Mustangs up for sale. One has been lovingly maintained in its original glory, and looks and rides as if it rolled off the showroom floor—maybe a little better; the other is a dilapidated, rusting, shredded, battered hefty hunk of steamy junk. So the conscientious person that poured his heart and soul into his vehicular masterpiece rightfully receives top dollar and the lazy bastard that let his legendary piece of automotive wonder decay into ruination is offered the salvage value for the scrap metal.
If his offense to car collectors everywhere wasn’t bad enough, this charlatan begins making an ugly scene by screaming that he has been financially discriminated against just because his car has gone to rot then incites other owners of worthless Mustangs to join him in starting a riot against the establishment. Once gathered, they threaten to destroy the valued Mustangs and warn that any who get in the way of their convoluted justice will be summarily stomped.
The bidders point out that the dollar figures offered have nothing to do with equality; each vehicle is judged solely on its value. But the angry mob only wants to hear that they will be given the same price across the board, regardless of the condition and performance of their cars and they drown out the money men by chanting: “A Mustang is a Mustang!”
The beauty of a ridiculous argument is that it is not bound by reason, so the person who is being reasonable is already at a disadvantage before the negotiations begin. A person or group know that if they march and stomp and yell loud enough for long enough they’re going to get something for their nuisance value . . . I call it: “Crib Mentality”.
So, when owners of crappy cars find out where there is an auction for classic cars, they show up as an unruly mob to demand equal payment and settle for hush money to go away. By uniting to commit mayhem, which would cost the big shots their shirts if their cars, businesses and persons are attacked, they get a shakedown price for their bucket of bolts . . . like one of our government “No work and pay or else!” institutions, set up for those who would rather wage war on society than hold down gainful employment.
Once organized, the rabble riders mobilize to set up I.S.O.A. (International Shitty Owners of Automobiles) to deal directly with the industry plutocrats, so they get paid a commission off the top for keeping the hooptie owners away from their auctions. Now the bottom feeders are making money off the sales of mint vehicles without the niggling investment of actually working and saving to buy a quality car then doing all those pesky chores and taking on the recurring expenses required to maintain it in top condition. Imagine having unions set up that were based on extorting protection money from legitimate businesses they do not work for or supply anything to by using threats of boycotts and riots and drive-bys and firebombs as their negotiating tactic.
To compensate, the owners have to drive up the prices to offset the cost of blackmail that is tacked onto every sale, which impedes the market and reduces profits which lead to cutbacks of working personnel in the industry in order to provide for the parasites threatening their way of life.
It’s interesting how we can learn so much about humanity by studying the way we interact over inanimate objects. The value of an item or a person or a community or a culture is determined by how hard the owner works to maintain it. A Yugo can be worth more than a vintage auto, if the Yugo is well cared for and the classic car is left to rot on the side of the road. If you don’t treasure your possessions enough to care for them then no one else will place a high value on them . . . this is also true for people, neighborhoods and cultures.
In three wars during the Twentieth Century, Americans fought against Asian nations, often to protect other Asians, and also to preserve their resources for our country. From up close, we saw how little value they placed on life—from their ritual suicides, to Kamikaze pilots, to seeing fathers send their daughters into minefields to make sure it was safe for the cow, or booby trapping their kids for G.I.s, or crushing a newborn daughter’s skull on the rocks because they didn’t want a girl, or outright selling their little girls into prostitution, their treatment of their own devalued their race completely. So there is no argument to support this liberal notion that their lives have equal value to our lives, simply because we place so much more value on our lives and our children’s lives. It is not our racism against them that leads us to draw this conclusion; it is their barbarity against their own that tips the scales. While extremists go on suicide missions against us, our military preaches the motto: “Let the other guy die for his country; you live for yours!”
So if we hear on the news that ten thousand people perished in an earthquake, our hearts sink with fear that California may be finally slipping into the ocean and many of our favorite stars are buried under the rubble. How relieved we are when we find out that it happened in some inconsequential Third World where only mud people were lost.
We do not value a culture that doesn’t work to develop their resources; we cannot respect a people that devote their energies to painting their faces and howling around the fire to spirits instead of building their nation; we have no reverence for lives that are sacrificed to cultural or religious rituals. More to the point, we do not want them cultivating their primitive ways on American soil and bilking the system to support them in the squalor of their heritage.
Now we can debate politics and religion in theory all you wish, but their applications are not optional. In America, we do not allow fathers to cut the genitals out of their daughters to keep them from being whores, just because it is part of their cultural religious practice; we do not allow females to be kept out of school, because of a religious cultural belief that women should not be allowed access to the mainstream; we do not allow children to be sold into marriages because of cultural religious traditions; we do not condone Queers, Adulterers and scientists being tortured and executed to fulfill God’s Master Plan according to Judeo-Christian-Muslim dogma . . . at least not anymore. Civilized people look upon practitioners of these ideologies as savages and thus we do not regard their culture or their lives with equal consideration . . . and rightfully so.
There are some cultures that shun personal hygiene and do not use deodorant and bathe too infrequently and we describe them as animals because they go around smelling like pits and ass—their very presence in our proximity is an offense and we naturally do all we can to distance ourselves from them and their community. I am not the one being rude when I tell someone that they stink to high Heaven; they’re the offending party. Now they can either snivel about it or they can go get busy in the shower on a daily basis . . . a little mouthwash would be nice, while they’re at it.
At the top of the bottom of the heap in every American category is the Negro race. Their ways rob us of our pride in our fellow Americans and in our great nation and we are justifiably disgusted by their habits; we are naturally outraged when they defend their low life mentality by labeling us as racists.
We cohabitate in this country a world apart; Negroes rue the Caucasian concepts of manners, order, comportment, civility, and decency so when asked to meet these rudimentary standards of behavior they feel stereotyped and annihilated. Ours is a world built on compromise, whereby we learn through mistakes and seek resolutions, and theirs is a world based on attrition, where the last man standing and screaming over his vanquished opponent wins. Since we will not change our position it is on them to change theirs to fit in and that’s when the struggle begins and ends, because we have offered all the compromises we can and there is still no resolution.
The short and the long of it is that Caucasians don’t like the way Negroes look, the way they walk, the way they talk, the way they act, the way they pray, the way they dress, the way they live, the way they think, or the way they smell, and they in turn feel as we do about them . . . not a lot to work with to build a lasting relationship; we would do well just to tolerate each other.
Too often we lose sight of the human equation, which is: “Whether one person or a billion persons face a problem the solutions are the same.”—The Kingpin Thorne Peters. Now if two people met and felt this way about each other, they would part company forever . . . even if it took a restraining order. So I guess there is only one thing left for us to do . . . break up. I mean just pack up yo’ shit and split before we get home from work—don’t call us and don’t stalk us, just accept that we’ve done all we can and it ain’t never gonna work between us, because we’ve got nothing in common. There ain’t no good guy; there ain’t no bad guy; there’s only you and me and we just disagree . . . OH-WO-WO!
All the domestic abuse and personal disrespect we’ve gouged each other with has scarred us and no counseling can get us past our embittered feelings that are barely beneath the surface when we see each other; there have been too many lies, too much cheating, and too many broken promises to ever be able to trust each other. Now it’s time to be mature enough to walk away without a violent scene, for our mutual good, and put this dark chapter in our lives behind us before it ends in a tragedy for all parties. The chemistry has always been bad and we all knew this relationship was doomed from the start, so let it go. I doubt we can even be friends, but we can get along when we see each other around, as long as y’all act right and accept that we can’t be more to each other because it don’t work.
Now, now; there’s no need to act like we’re sad to see this dysfunctional relationship end. We’ve never been anything more than a necessary evil to the other, and our interaction has always been volatile. When you’re in an abusive relationship with a person who is inconsiderate and uncaring and selfish, a person who believes that you are not worthy of them, a person who is cruel to you with purpose, a person that puts you down for fun, it’s time to ease on down the road. It’s a case of “no fault disillusion”, which means we walk away like grown ups with what we came into the relationship with and what we’ve earned since. We have produced no common heir so, if you get down to brass tacks, we could have the whole thing annulled, because this marriage between our races was never consummated.
Now on the surface, this should have been the end of it, because both sides have stipulated to their irreconcilable differences. But a funny thing happened to Caucasians on the way to the suburbs . . . the Negroes came crawling after us. So we gave up our neighborhoods again, in the separation settlement, so they could have their Negro community apart from us. We allowed our guilt for the actions of the less than five percent of our ancestors that owned slaves factor in and we graciously didn’t count the fact that Union Caucasians went to war against Confederate Caucasians to free Negro slaves, and that New Frontier Caucasians voted in The Great Society to secure equality for Twenty-First Century Negroes. We just gave them what they wanted so we could get on with our lives in peace and we rebuilt in a new location to finally put this dark chapter in our history to rest, so it would not be our future.
Yet in a decade they were back on the doorstep of White America with their empty hands outstretched begging for us to take them back and feed their empty mouths and provide them with a better life, even though they hated us more than ever. And so we again set them up then hit the road so Negroes could be the masters of their own destiny and build their own heritage and we could be at a safe distance to protect and preserve our way of life from them.
But here they are again, scratching at the back door, demanding a lion’s share of all that we have built, with nothing to show for all the hard work and free money we have provided on their behalf . . . without offering as little as a reach around for bare compensation.
We’re not evil people or even racists—we’re just Caucasians seeking to live in a Caucasian world the way every other race naturally wants to live within the traditions of their ancestral heritage, while taking pride for their cultural and familial contributions to the American way . . . that’s what makes America great!
In the last fifty years, the W.A.M., the White American Male, has done more in any one day for every other race, gender and country than has ever been done for us by any other race, gender or country in every day of those fifty years combined, yet we are told that it is not enough because of the one race of people on Earth that cannot maintain their ethnic community. Unlike every other human, we W.A.M.’s are insulted and assaulted and discredited if we try and preserve our racial identity or assert our masculinity, or exude success; we are not allowed to lobby for each other, unless we are willing to become skinheads. There can be no cause that focuses help, relief, consideration or rights on White people and our race is degenerating by the hour from lack of nurturing.
We may not care to live around people of a lesser ilk, but on a deeper level, Caucasians grudgingly respect these foreign cultures for being self sufficient, hardworking, and largely law-abiding; we appreciate that they take pride in family, education, community and industry, so we reluctantly share our American dream with them for our own benefit. We may not care about Mexicans, but we don’t mind them when they’re out there mowing our lawns in the hot summer sun. I’m no fan of Asians, but I love egg rolls. When the good Christians need the best legal representation money can buy, they go get one of them Christ-killing Zion dirty Kike Jewboys. Negroes have yet to discover what their purpose is and offer it to mankind and this is why they feel as if they are treated as unequally yolk in society . . . because they are.
We see Black children abandoned like an unwanted dog; we hear story after story of their miserable home lives; we listen to Negroes excuse crimes committed by Negroes even against their own; we are forced to deal with uneducated Negroes lobbying for their right to be uneducated; we witness little Black toddlers being cussed out by their momses like they were hookers holding out on their pimp, so we see no evidence of Negro equality . . . the only way we can view them as equals is to be charitable and overlook these recurring aspects of their culture, which robs them of the hope of ever being equal in society.
At this stage in their societal evolution, Negroes need not worry about being equal to Caucasians, because that just keeps them down and at odds with their own identity; they need to focus on being equal to the task of being Negroes and fulfilling their own destiny by setting forth standards and principles to live by. It’s not that Caucasians are more equal; it’s just that we have greater value, which only comes when you cherish your culture and treasure your community and invest in your future.
This book is my contribution to get Negroes started on the road to equality, which they will only find once they are ensconced amongst their own . . . so grab a copy and get to steppin’.

NOW READ . . .
FAMOUS LAST WORDS

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WHY NEGROES ARE DOWN AND OUT

2008-04-21T08:11:00.012-04:00

WHERE BE MINEZES?

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

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“The future will be shaped in the arena of human activity, by those
willing to commit their minds and bodies to the task.”

—Senator Robert F. Kennedy

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On one of my radio shows, I closed by challenging listeners to provide evidence of one positive trait that Black society was known for and, of course, the Negroes responded by calling me names . . . the intellectual equivalent of monkeys shitting in their hands and throwing it on the walls when they get frustrated.
Predominately, when you think of Jews, you think of doctors and lawyers and accountants; when you think of White men, you think of college educated captains of industry, Internet moguls, and chairmen of boards; when you think of Arabs and Asians, you think of small businessmen; when you think of Hispanics, you think of hardworking laborers; whereas the Black man represents crime, violence, illiteracy, broken homes, abandoned bastard children, Welfare moms, drugs, gangs, and unemployment. From Africa to America, and all points in between, Black society is a stagnate culture that creates a clear and present danger to any who are ensnared within its borders . . . from the Hutus and the Tutsis to the Crips and the Bloods.
Rather than being ashamed of their dangerous and vile society, Negroes pride themselves on the decimation they create; their music, art and literature glorifies the violent Black man who lives life spewing profanity with his gun in one hand and his crotch in the other—the jobless, uneducated, dope-slinging, gangbanging Negro is their counterculture hero.
Everywhere Blacks congregate, decay and crime ensues, but the only way it is politically correct to address their problems is if we blame the White man for creating them. There is no place in the world where as few as ten thousand Blacks live that isn’t a crime infested ghetto . . . places where a hundred thousand Blacks or more live are urban war zones.
Negroes give the poor a bad name, by constantly linking poverty to criminal behavior. West Virginia is the poorest state in the union and suffers the least amount of crime . . . that's because the state is ninety-six percent Caucasian. Even being uneducated does not lead to a life of crime . . . I again use West Virginia as my example. It gives rise to a sad chuckle to note that among Caucasians, violent criminals are more-often born to working middle class, two-parent families.
People who rob for a living do so because they have no character, not because they're poor; they feel that it is beneath their dignity to ask for scraps to get by, so they jack people; they will not humble themselves by doing an honest day's work for a decent wage, so they steal. The peer pressure for them to be having thangs becomes sheer desperation in their realm. They are viewed with respect by their homeys for having the accouterments of Negro life; not for providing a stable home life for their family.
One primitive culture after another, rows onto American shores without a pot to piss in, unable to speak the language, and secures its destiny through hard work in a generation or two, while the American Negro continues to regress each day. Every single immigrant culture has had to endure cold shoulder racism and religionism from the White Anglo Saxon Protestant; many of these refugees lived in servitude under oppressive regimes, yet manage to make themselves useful and carve out a place for themselves in the great melting pot through the only four letter word Negroes avoid using . . . W-O-R-K!
Naturally Negroes blame Caucasians for the sorry overall condition of their race, because they have not discovered the maturity to take responsibility for their actions and inactions. Responsibility is something taught to us by our parents through words and deeds; we learn it from observing adults who act responsibly. But since responsible people are not held up as role models for Black children, they seldom grow up and find the integrity to admit that they are responsible for the direction of their lives . . . the quality of a culture is built or destroyed one member at a time.
Even when Caucasians cross color lines to adopt unwanted or neglected poor Black childrens, we are accused of annihilating their race. Agencies and organizations make it easier and quicker to adopt non White babies, which put the White kids at a disadvantage, but still Negroes claim they are being treated unfairly because of Caucasian intervention. They leave out the part where more Black babies would be adopted into Black homes, except Negroes don't adopt children . . . we can't even get them to by and large raise their own kids in the first place.
In Memphis, alone, in 2007, fifty thousand kids were born to single parents—most of them Black teenagers . . . this figure plays out in these kinds of numbers nationwide. Beyond the piety of married conception, the problem is that the father usually has little to no contact with the child and offers even less support . . . all because of Whitey, somehow.
We blame Negroes for the high price of crime, for the terrible cost in human life they exact, for the unsafe streets they create, for the war zones they turn our schools into, and for flipping their neighborhoods into slums. Since they lack the fortitude to be self effacing and deal with these problems head on, they merely toss the blame back on Caucasians, so they state that the reason Negroes rob—Slavery; the reason Negroes shoot each other down in the streets—Jim Crow; the reason Negroes abandon their children—Lynching; the reason Negroes throw garbage out their windows—Segregation; the reason Negroes are uneducated—Stereotyping; the reason Negroes smoke crack—Redlining; the reason Negroes call themselves and each other: “Nigger”—Slavery . . . and we take it from the top.
Rather than admitting to the areas of glaring weakness that the race represents on the whole, which jeopardizes each and every individual, they deny the facts in evidence by arguing that not every last single solitary Negro on Earth is a dumb, lazy, thug, so we never get to deal with the overwhelming majority who are. They are taught by their race leaders that if they take responsibility for their plight, they will be admitting that the White man is right and they are wrong . . . then they won't get no mo' free gubament cheese.
So they fight a losing battle by ruining their lives to punish Caucasians; they defend their useless position by stating that Caucasians are successful, because Negroes are discriminated against; they are tricked into believing that Caucasian neighborhoods are peaceful, because Negroes are forced to live in slums that are so horrible that even if they have to rob and kill to get out of there, it's justifiable, because the Caucasians made their lives so miserable. Besides, if Whites are to blame for their problems, then they don't have to get to work on fixing them.
When things are as bad off as they are for the Negro race, here and in Mutha Africa, there must be a reason and since it can't be them then it must be us. Negroes have the mentality of the Hobo who goes to a fine home and notices that it smells like asshole. Then he goes to a fine restaurant and notices that it smells like asshole there too. Then he goes to a fine theater and notices it also smells like asshole. He has only enough presence of mind to wonder why all those fine places he goes to smells like asshole, without the depth of character to accept that he's the smelly asshole.
Of course all this seems like I’m just another White guy piling on—another hooded racist stereotyping the proud Negro race by judging them on the actions of the worst members of their society . . . next I’m supposed to offer you the overwhelming statistical proof of the inability of Negroes to live as peaceful members of society, and give you example after example of their incapability to be good neighbors and honorable citizens. Yet I personally know of dozens of upstanding Black men who are providers for their family, who are hard working decent citizens that live life with morality and responsibility . . . unfortunately it is only a few dozen of the few thousand I have met and that is the ratio that plays out millions fold.
We must begin to affect positive change by no longer disputing the obvious . . . Negroes must stop arguing that illiteracy, crime, drugs, gangs, Welfare and abandonment are not rampant problems that afflict the Negro race; stop making excuses for the criminals, gangbangers, and rolling stone papas; do not blame others—namely the White race—for the condition of your life. If you are unemployed and uneducated it’s your fault not mine!
Every time Negroes talk about how there should be more Black-owned businesses and more Black managers and Black executives, the rant is always directed at the White man. Well, let me do my part and open your eyes . . . In order for there to be more Black bosses, there has to be more Black workers, so yip-yip-yip-yip-maw-maw-maw-maw get a job and work your way up up up! In order for there to be more Blacks in management, particularly Black men, there has to be more educated Black men and less illiterate Black thugs, so get an education! Don’t complain to Whitey that there are more Black men in prison than there are on college campuses—tell it to the bruthaz committing all those goddamn crimes!
After fifty years of Civil Rights, The Great Society, Title VII, and Affirmative Action there are less Black-owned businesses now than there were during the Jim Crow era. The reason for these failed programs is simple; if given the opportunity, Blacks will do business with Whites over Blacks . . . if you had a choice of colors; which one would you choose my bruthaz?
Segregation was far more beneficial to the Negro infrastructure, because it forced Blacks to do business with Blacks against their will which created commerce and a foundation for their culture to expand. But as soon as Blacks were allowed to come through the back door and eat in the kitchen of White restaurants, they stopped going to Black restaurants; as soon as Blacks were allowed to sleep in the basements of White hotels—though not allowed to use the facilities or the pool—they stopped going to Black hotels; when Blacks were finally allowed to play in the White Major Leagues, they abandoned the Negro leagues, which was at the time the thirteenth largest industry in America. If Blacks don’t want to do business with Blacks, why should White America shoulder the burden of doing business with them?
The greatest ascendancy for Negroes now is to be choosy beggars. They don't want a baloney sandwich when they're starving, they want to eat steak with you . . . and if there's only enough steak for you, they want you to give them your steak and eat the baloney sandwich yourself, because of four hundred years of slavery. Offering them a job sweeping a floor when they're unemployed demeans their personhood . . . they want a window office with a view, an expense account and a secretary like you has. Suggesting an uneducated Black kid go to a trade school is an affront to their self-styled image . . . they want to be promoted to playa like Donald Trump with a helicopter on the roof and a limo at the curb waiting for them.
Within their blanket hatred of all things Whitey, they have pockets of rage they focus on specific ethnic groups. They revile Jews in particular as much as they loathe Caucasians as a whole. They have entered into this competition with them over which tribe suffered the greatest human tragedy. Personally, if given a choice between being incinerated in an oven and working in the fields, chain me up. Besides, Negroes only had to endure a few centuries of slavery, while Jews have been on the block for four thousand years. It's a twisted irony that the only thing the K.K.K. and the N.A.A.C.P. have in common, is their hatred of Jews.
Negroes point to Jews and complain that they have their own schools and communities and business districts, while they are forced to be culturally integrated because they ain't got nothing to show for their race. But they don't factor in that Jews raise money for Jews within the Jewish community, without government assistance or charity fund raisers. It's a shame Negroes lack the depth to emulate how the Jews reached their pinnacle in society, by making home the center of their culture, by investing in family; by securing the future of their people, by making sure each member of their family is provided for; by insisting on higher education and demanding responsibility from their citizens, to create Jewish pride. Jews rarely have children out of wedlock and when they do the men don't ditch their kid because of the expense and hassle.
Too many Negroes sellout their race so they can drive an expensive car, while living in low rent dumps; they got high def big screen televisions loaded with cable package; hands and teefsez filled with bling; top of the line logo-jerseys and designer sneakers; play stations with stacks of video games; bumping stereos in the home and in the car with racks of CDs; I-pods and cellphones, but they don't have a computer for themselves or their kids, nor do they have the ability to use one. If you're a working person with kids, you don’t need to drive a car that costs as much as a college education; make sure you have health insurance for your family before you buy spinning rims for your ride. It’s time to quit stylin’ for the homeys and build a solid foundation for your children that they can pass on . . . and so on down the line across generations. Like them Jewboys does.
Negroes in America, spend more money than all of Canada, but they don't invest much of it, so they have nothing to show for their expenditure but products—it's disposable income blown on instant gratification. Negroes squander their future by selfishly living in the moment, so they have the least insurance, pay less child support, adopt the fewest babies, have less money in the bank, own less property and have the most single parent households . . . at this rate the future of the Negro race is bleaker than their present day dire reality.
Negroes hate on Koreans and A-rabs, for their economic dominance of Black society, because they don't have the sense or the reasoning to be grateful to them for providing stores in their neighborhoods. Forty years ago when White abandoned what is now the inner city they left behind the businesses and Negroes were enfranchised so they could service their community. But being boss man doesn't mean you get to live high on the hog cashing big quarterly checks; it means you have to pour your blood sweat and tears into the place to keep it viable. If you blow the wad, you won't have money to reorder and so you cutback on products, which cuts down on profits, so you have to cut corners to save money on overhead, so you turn the temp in the coolers down and food and dairy spoils. The conditions were too often unsanitary and businesses were fined and closed as health risks. Negro owners had to face the trials and tribulations of having Negro customers who shoplifted them out of house and home and robbed them blind, driving up costs which drove away customers . . . soon their businesses went belly up.
Inevitably, Negroes were stamped as bad credit risks for business loans, because they failed across the board to manage their businesses, which kept the next generation of Negroes from being owners for the good of their communities.
Much of this could have been avoided if Negroes were realistic enough to listen to the wise White men that warned them they were not ready to handle the responsibilities and pressures of running their own show, because they hadn't the education or experience needed and were headed for failure unless they were willing to allow Whites to hold their hand through the process . . . when they shoved us away they were on their own, which is usually a recipe for Negro failure.
When the franchise markets refused to reopen after riots, Negroes complained that they had to take a bus or two to get to a market in neighborhoods outside their culture . . . since they burned and looted the stores in their neighborhoods. So the government offered small low-to-no interest loans to any who had the courage to do business in the ghetto. The Negroes didn't have the down payment, Caucasians were not going to risk their lives and life savings serving Da Hood, so industrious families from the Far and Middle East braved the dangers to build a solid future for their people and did business with Negroes. They established themselves as hardworking merchants, which made them good credit risks and enabled them to expand their business holdings.
Until one generation of Negroes sacrifices itself for the next, they will never advance the race. One generation of Jews scrubbed floors, so the next could go to college; one generation of Irishmen worked in the mills, so the next could run them; whole Asian and Arab families work around the clock to keep their small businesses going, so the next generation can buy more businesses; Mexicans have turned menial labor into a thriving enterprise, so there is always work for them. Negroes feed off Negroes until there is nothing left. So follow the Jewish traditions you rue, dear Schwatzers; when you pull a tree out plant another—or more to the point; stop being a race of schmucks.
And so, you African-American fellows: Aks not what Whitey can do for you; aks what y'all can do for America! . . . in other words, as you sew so shall you reap. Since the dawn of Civil Rights, Negroes have come to the table with empty hands, hungry mouths and bad attitudes; they do not offer work to improve their condition, they offer excuses . . . this is why their race has little to show for all the hard work and sacrifices by White America to enfranchise them. We can only help you get to your feet; now y’all have got to walk.
Negroes remain out in the cold with their empty pockets turned inside out and their hongray bellies rumbling as they press their noses against the bakery window looking in and wanting to know where their piece of the pie is. What they must realize is that no one is entitled to a piece of the pie, unless they bake it or buy it . . . if all you're going to do is beg for it then all you get is day old bread. Until Negroes are willing to bake or buy their own pie, they need to learn gratitude for the day old bread . . . and the best way to teach them that is to give them nothing for nothing.
There are only two facets of life that every person and every people must adhere to in order for there to be peace: self sufficiency and manners . . . all other traits are negotiable.

NOW READ . . .
I GOT ROOTS TOO!
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THE KINGPIN DECREES

2008-04-20T19:06:00.017-04:00

T H O R N E I S M S

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

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OFF THE TOP

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Men are conquerers and women are sexual—it's fire and rain . . . no man wants to fuck a woman that wants to fuck!

There's only a one woman difference between married and buried.

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It's not that every woman is a bitch . . . it's that every woman is potentially a bitch.

Journalism is to literature as toilet paper is to canvas.

One day countries will go to war to prevent the use of oil as a matter of environmental survival.

If you don't dig it then don't tune in, don't log on, and don't trip out.

The leading cause of impotency is having sex with the same woman too many times.

People who have the word “PRIDE” tattooed on their bodies are usually without any.

People who talk about being given “RESPECT” are usually unworthy of any.

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A tattoo is to art what a fart is to music.

You never look fatter than when you're sitting and eating.

I distrust lawyers, doctors, and priests because they speak Latin and call what they do for a living, “Practice”.

Since our inevitable death is destined to be the most epic moment of our lives, we may as well look forward to it.

It's not a sport unless your opponent is standing in front of you . . . anything less is a contest.

A free education is offered to our children but it is up to them to receive it.

Who decided that “Terminal” was the best name for a place where people wait for an airplane?

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HIGH MIND

The highest level of philosophy is acceptance.

Our first response to a crisis must always be reticence.

High-minded philosophy applied to lowlife behavior equals unqualified disaster.

One day we will learn that violence is not an option.

A person cannot be taught how to be brilliant.

It is not the answers we know that measures our intelligence; it is the questions we ask.

The greatest philosophies throughout time have been no-brainers.

Image is an illusion; character is reality.

Everyone and everything is important to someone and something.

Above that which is extraordinary is simple.
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When faced with a choice between right and wrong, choose integrity.

Never be your own worst enemy.

To say that you “tried” is to say that you “failed”.

To date, 99.9% of the world is completely wrong 100% of the time about everything.

A true philosopher does not seek to discover who is right or which is wrong, but instead reveals what is true to all parties.

If we are to ere, let us ere on the side of the future.

Whether one person or a billion persons face a problem the solutions are the same.

A truly wise person will choose their mistakes and pick their wrongs with great sapience.

Reality is the consequence of your perceptions.

A leader is the person who takes responsibility for the outcome.

School suppresses freethinking by only teaching what is already known.

A master never walks in the footsteps of others.

The only test you must pass to be a master is given on a blank piece of paper.

You cannot become a master by reciting masters anymore than you can become a great artist by tracing great art.

A philosopher is one who has the ability to understand that which is yet unknown.

A master is one who has the ability to explain that which is yet unknown.

There's always an answer whether we know it or not.

Most people confuse rationalizations with philosophy.

Nobody ever offered a rationalization for the betterment of mankind.

The masses will respect a leader who has an iron fist if it is filled with silver.

Hate is the abandonment of intellect.

We must logically conclude when it is time to go mad.
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When reality fails, it's time for philosophy.

If you know your limitations nobody else will.
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If the facts don't support the truth then it's not the truth.

Only falsehoods need interpretation; truths speak for themselves.
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Knowledge in the hands of an idiot becomes a weapon rather than a tool.
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INJUSTICE

Denying adults the right to consent is as unjust as denying adults the right to dissent.

It is immoral to concern yourself with the immorality of others.

The only people with rights in America are criminals.

Drugs do not grow in the fields, they are cooked in the labs.
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Just say “NO” to drugs; SMOKE POT!
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God gave us dominion over the seed bearing plants and the government took it away.

We cannot legislate a person's feelings anymore than a person's feelings can be legislated. (See “Interracial Couples” for a working example of this.)

Morality is a philosophy, not a law.

You have to choose to be moral, it cannot be chosen for you.

The Golden Rule is: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”, so it follows that the only law of the land should be: “You cannot do unto others what they would not have you do unto them”. . . the rest is freedom of choice.

We have to protect the rights of the people who wish to live without values.

We the people should never have been given the right to vote on laws, because laws are self evident until man confuses them with values.
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What kind of future are we investing in when we spend $1,500 per year to educate a student and $50,000 per year to incarcerate a prisoner?
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RACE

The only person that should be offended by the word Nigger, is a Nigger.

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Negroes are the only people who consider it being segregated to live among their own race.

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If only Caucasians abandon racism it will be our undoing.

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Separate but equal—the more separate we are the more equal we will be.
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The key to peaceful race relations is simple; we need closure on the past and distance in the future . . .

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Negroes have to find the courage to be intellectual and leave behind the cowardice of violence.

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It's not that all Negroes are Niggers . . . it's that all Negroes are potentially Niggers.

There are only two facets of life that every person and every people must maintain in order for peace to endure: self sufficiency and manners . . . all other traits are negotiable.

The most hateful word you can call a person is: “Them”.

I answer every racial problem faced and created by Negroes with the same question: “Why don't Negroes want to live with Negroes?” It's as simple as that . . .

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We have failed to comprehend the simple wisdom that high-minded philosophy applied to lowlife behavior equals unqualified disaster.

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RELIGION

What you believe is important . . . only to you. How you behave is important to everyone.

Christians believe that the fewer Gods a person worships the more evolved they are . . . except for Atheists.

There's only a one God difference between a Christian and an Atheist so we're not that far apart.

No matter how long and hard you search for God the path will always lead back to man.

If God is infallible then the commandment “Thou Shalt Not Commit Slavery” was omitted with divine purpose which means God is pro-slavery and racial equality is blasphemy.

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It seems to me there should be at least a shred of evidence that there really is a God thing before accusing It of committing such despicable crimes against humanity.

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The only man that I know of who executed God's master plan of condemning people to the flames solely over religious bigotry was Adolph Hitler, so the only way you can be a good Christian is to be a Nazi.

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If you favor a good oxymoron, here's one: “Christian values”.

Maybe next time, man will find the wisdom to create a humane God.

To be Godlike, you must be a bigoted, misogynistic, jealous, barbarous slave master. Hallelujah!

God was created in man's image so he could bear to look at himself after being inhuman.

It's Christianity or humanity . . . not both.

I would rather be falsely accused of being a homosexual than falsely accused of being a Christian.

Those without the courage to believe in themselves, believe in God.

As long as we put our faith in God we will never put our faith in each other.

People don't believe in God, they subscribe to religion to believe that they are Godlike.

Christians believe in the higher power of Luke, John, Peter and Matthew.

Christianity is a philosophy that should not be applied religiously.

In America, we are enlightened enough to judge people by their deeds, but in Heaven God is so ignorant He will only judge you by your religion and condemn you to the pit without parole solely on that basis.

Humanity begins where religion ends.

If God was a woman, the morning hard on wouldn't be filled with piss.

What is it that makes God a man? Does God have a penis?

If God is male there's no way He didn't do the round young virgin in the field.

Thank God for Atheists!

Maybe we're Atheists because we're told that God hates us.

People are so arrogant that they believe their inner voice is God.

Everybody's somebody's Atheist.

Atheists never kill in the name of God.

Atheists have always been in foxholes!

NOW READ . . .

LEMME AKS Y'ALL A KRESTION

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Listen to The Kingpin

TALKIN SEX WITH THE LADIES
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LOVING REMEMBRANCE

2008-04-20T08:21:00.010-04:00

ACROSS THE DIVIDE

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

In Memoriam . . .

I am not gone; I am across the divide
Swept away by the eternal tide
I speak to you, though I cannot be heard
I am right beside you, rest assured
Though beyond my touch, you feel my essence
Forever in your heart a deep presence
My spirit lives on in the moments we shared
Evoke a memory and I shall be there
A sweet refrain; a wisp of breeze; a soaring dove
I am dancing in the eyes of those I love
Shed tears for me for I am unable to cry
It is hard to bid my dear ones goodbye
But do not grieve that I have lost my life
As you miss me, remember the blithe
All that I have been I shall be again
I am restored now and ready to ascend
For to have known life is to never die
I will be here waiting, across the divide.

NOW READ . . .

THORNEISMS

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FREETHINKERS CASH OUT

2008-04-20T00:09:00.005-04:00

LOW RENT FREETHINKING IS COSTLY TO ALL!

Recently I was kicked out of a group of limited freethinkers for expressing thoughts they were not in accord with, by their superficial examination of the facts in evidence . . . making their definition of freethinking an oxymoron.
This a back and forth I did with a Rick Sadler from the group in Olive Branch Mississippi (which should tell you where this is headed) that makes my point about race relations in America clearer than I can alone. It is an illustration of how dangerous liberalism is, because it seeks to take a self serving high road irrespective of reality in order to allow the thinker to feel intellectually evolved. This is why the group has latched onto the notion of Atheism, in order to distance themselves from the hayseed mentality of their Christian neighbors. But in fact they use Atheism with the same ignorance Christians apply to nonbelievers.
Bear in mind that high minded thought applied to lowlife behavior is a recipe for unqualified disaster.
In fact this is such a microcosm of mindless liberalism that I've included this in the chapter of the book called HITS FROM THE BLOG.
I open with pontification; then Rick brings the Pith and I close with perspective . . . so follow along.
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I forever seek to instill in Negroes (Who the hell are you to instill anything in a race of people?) (WHO DO I HAVE TO BE? WHAT IS THE REQUIEM FOR A SAGE?) that their genetics and roots have only to do with their parents and not their ancestors. No one is a slave to their heritage. Each generation is born anew and has the capacity to go as far as their ambition takes them (or perhaps their extreme narcissism) (NARCISSISM IS PRIDE PERSONIFIED.) We only owe the future not the past. But look what motivates them (Warning! Stereotype ahead). (PREPARE FOR A GENUFLECT LIBERAL EXCUSE) What happens to the Negro (which Negro? All Negroes? Ever heard of the word STEREOTYPE?) (EVER WONDER HOW STEREOTYPES GET STARTED?) is that they are steeped in Civil Rights rhetoric (Which of course needs repudiation?) (WHICH IS ONE SIDED AND SELF SERVING AS PRESENTED.) and are victims of their home life (Each one having an identical home life) (EACH SLUM HAVING AN IDENTICAL REALITY) and fall prey to peer pressure that leads to drugs and gangs (Really? My ex-wife is black and working toward her PhD. But then again, I guess she’s one of the good ones) (OMG! HS! NOT THE OLD "I know ONE" argument . . . I know a few more than that. WHAT'S YOUR POINT?)
More Black kids are joining gangs than graduating high school (Would love to see your sources on this. According to figures I’ve seen, even the lowest figures tout around a 50% graduation rate. Are you saying that more than half of all Blacks are gang members?) (MORE THAN HALF ARE ARRESTED ISN'T BAD THAT ENOUGH?)
50,000 Blacks will have children out of wedlock in Memphis alone this year (Again, sources?) (FOR THOSE WHO LACK THE PERSPECTIVE TO EYEBALL THE SITUATION GO TO SNOPES) (Plus, if the figure is less for other racial groups, perhaps it is because other racial groups are a minority in Memphis.) (INCLUDING THE COUNTY, WE'RE JUST BELOW 50-50 FAVORING BLACKS SO YOUR FUZZY MATH DOESN'T ADD UP AND THIS RATIO PLAYS OUT NATIONWIDE) (It is a problem but not just confined to the Black race) (COMING FROM A HOME WITH A RUNAWAY FATHER I KNOW THIS TO BE TRUE. BUT THIS WAS NOT THE NORM AMONG MY PEOPLE. IF YOU'RE RIGHT THEN HOW COME SO MANY NEGROES OVER THE LAST 150 YEARS LAMENT THE LOSS OF A FATHER?) . . . most will never contribute to their children's support (How can you know this?) (HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW THIS? DON'T ARGUE A POINT JUST TO RETORT . . . ADJUST THE HANGER ON YOUR TV AND WATCH THE NEWS)

Even all this can be overcome, but it is an effort that will require supreme character (defined by who?) (AS DEFINED BY ME AS LIVING SMILING PROOF OF WHAT A PERSON MUST DO FROM THE INSIDE OUT TO CHANGE THE CULTURE OF THEIR VIEW OF THEMSELVES AND THE WORLD WHEN THEY START LIFE WITH NO FAMILIAL LOVE OR SUPPORT.) and that is what they must find the courage to embrace. They need to cheer for successful Black people rather than buy into the Black on Black racist cries of SELL OUT and PUNK and UNCLE TOM every time a Black man gets an education and speaks intelligibly (Another wild exaggeration). (EVER HEARD A RAP SONG GIVING PROPS TO SANITATION WORKERS? ON THE WEEKEND THEY HELD BLACK EXPO IN 1992 THERE WERE 2000 PEOPLE THERE, ALMOST HALF WERE WHITE, TO CELEBRATE THE ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF UPWARDLY MOBILE NEGROES. THERE WERE 75,000 NEGROES AT THE CHICAGO GANG SUMMIT THAT YEAR WHERE JESSIE JACKSON CALLED THEM THE BACKBONE OF THE CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT . . . I WISH SOMEONE CALLED FOR SOME NAPALM)

While these events take place in the Caucasian world, (SEE) it is not a plague of our society because we do not co-sign for poor behavior (I guess, being the superior sort we are, apparently we don’t consider genocide of the Indians or slavery, Jim Crow or racism poor behavior on our part) (WOW! YOU COULD BE A BLACK RACE LEADER WITH THAT MINUTIA . . . HAVE THOSE ATROCITIES BEEN COMMITTED BY ANYONE TODAY? WHAT ABOUT OUR ANCESTORS THAT FOUGHT AND DIED TO DO AWAY WITH THESE INSTITUTIONS? IF WE'RE GOING TO GET BLAMED THEN WE HAVE TO GET THE CREDIT AS WELL. IF I TOOK THE POLICE ON A HIGH SPEED CHASE THEN ATTACKED THEM AND GOT MY ASS KICKED, WHITE SOCIETY WOULDN'T HAVE RIOTED FOR ME TO GET MILLIONS OF DOLLARS.) .
In this society, one Negro commits a crime and 10 million enable and excuse his criminal behavior because of slavery, Jim Crow, segregation and lynching (10 million? I told you a million times not to exaggerate. Sorry, this is exhausting) (DID YOU WATCH THE O.J. TRIAL? DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THE RIOTS AFTER THE RODNEY KING VERDICT? YOUR IDEOLOGY IS EMBARRASSING.)
Caucasians are the only people that celebrate Negro success (Blacks and Asians of course decry it) (OH SURE, ASIANS ARE KNOWN THE WORLD OVER FOR THEIR LOVE OF OTHER CULTURES. A BLACK MAN DEFINES HIS SUCCESS A LOT DIFFERENTLY THAN WE DO . . . THEY DON'T GET PROPS FROM THE BRUTHAZ FOR OWNING A HOME AND HAVING HEALTH INSURANCE FOR THEIR FAMILY) and that's why their successes are so limited compared to every other race (Look around at who really built America. Think back to those who fought for it during wars even though they were subjected to the worst forms of racism. Think of those whose courage inspired the world during the Civil Rights movement, those who were willing to risk their lives to bring justice to America. I guess we can’t call those “successes”). (I'M AN IRISHMAN WITH A JEW IN THE WOODPILE, MY PEEPS GOT THEM BEAT 100 TO ONE IN THE PERSECUTION AND SLAVERY DEPARTMENT YET THEY MANAGE TO THRIVE AS A CULTURE. AND WHY ARE YOU MAKING POINTS ABOUT TODAY'S RACE RELATIONS USING CENTURIES OLD REFERENCES FOR EXCUSES? YOU JUST ENABLE THE MENTALITY OF FAILURE AND CRIME. MY WHITE ANCESTORS AND RELATIVES HAVE FOUGHT FOR ABOLITION THE CIVIL WAR AND CIVIL RIGHTS; WHAT MORE CAN WE DO IF NEGROES WON'T HELP US HELP THEM.WHAT ARE NEGROES DOING NOW TO BUILD ANYTHING ANYWHERE?)

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His inane responses make my points for me. Here we have had this debate IN RE: The condition of the Negro race and line by line he has protested my assertions, as if that refutes them. Yet, when the smoke clears and the sun goes down, we are left to deal with the REALITY of Negro life in America. Listen for it . . . another person lays dead in the streets at the hands of a Negro . . . and in the time it took me to write that two more lay dead . . . one of them White. Are these violent crimes an illusion of stereotyping? Does slavery make it permissible for Negroes to be thugs? Is generational poverty a mitigating factor?
The real gist of this moment underscores the differences between the races, because I doubt there are any Negroes out their seeking to define and control their prejudice against Caucasians. In fact Caucasians are the only race of people that contemplate their prejudice and it will be our undoing as long as we're the only ones.
Stop the madness! Rick, you remind me of those Black owners of Black owned businesses during the riots that put up signs that read BLACK OWNED as if those bruthaz gave a shiznit about that. If we are to believe you, then White people are the cause of Black problems . . . but out of the other side of your mouth you claim Negroes don't have these problems because your ex-wife is a Black woman who may one day get a degree . . . no wonder race relations will only get worse with so much liberal ignorance.
Remember: LIBERALS ARE JUST CONSERVATIVES THAT HAVEN'T BEEN MUGGED. May you meet up with one of them fine impoverished misunderstood Negroes you shill for at a ready teller some dark night . . . when they're jacking you and capping you, go on and tell'em about your Negress ex-wife and see if that helps you or gets more hurt put on you.
Life is not a classroom of theoryology, where excuses and concepts are correct answers . . . in the real world that kind of thinking gets you and your family wiped out. That's why it has no value.
Knowledge in the hands of idiots becomes a weapon rather than a tool.
Next I'll do one of these on the Alpha female of the group, Liz, who is the poster girl for what happens to an underprivileged mind that seeks to gain intelligence by going to college . . . the longer you go to school the less able you are to think for yourself, because you repeat the idioms of academia believing it is a recipe for knowledge. School only offers students the chance to learn what everyone else already knows. If you want to become intelligent you must study your own mind.

P.S. This is for Liz who kept asking me what my REAL name is . . .

WHO'S YO KINGPIN!

NOW READ . . .
SKOOLIN CHIDDRENZ

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LISTEN TO THE KINGPIN!

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THE BLACKWELDER COLLECTION

2008-04-15T21:59:00.002-04:00

artwork rendered by:

STEVE BLACKWELDER

THE POET LAUREATE OF THE COSMOS

2008-04-15T06:05:00.010-04:00

AWARDED IN 2006 BY THE INTERNATIONAL LIBRARY OF POETS

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PORTRAIT OF LOVE

written by THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

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Images of you against a backdrop of eternity
An ethereal collage of bold strokes in perpetuity.
A seascape at night; a mountain range from below,
The enormity of such vastness is difficult to behold.
One splash of color that perceives many shades
Enriching our souls with the revelation it conveys.
Seeking the finite for that which is interpretation;
Is to search only your heart’s own verification.
Timeless, boundless conforming not to sensibilities,
Instinctively reaching beyond inscrutabilities.
Within dreamscape realities of the subconscious mind
Fantasies are aroused to sate passions clandestine
The heart ascends in essence to the rarefied altar
Atop the aspect of desire sculpting the pillar.
At last we are revealed to all and laid bare at the core!
Impeded, intimidated, impudent no more!
Our bond is an epiphany of enthralling release;
An epoch of erotica shall be our masterpiece . . .

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NOW READ . . .
PUTTIN THE "F" IN SEX

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BLACK WOMENZ

2008-04-13T01:35:00.008-04:00

BIYATCHEZ & HOEZ

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

“Women are like elephants . . . everyone likes to look at them, but no one likes to have to keep one around.” —W.C. Fields

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In order to make an epic point, I will often ask Black guys: “Is yo' mama a biyatch or a ho'?” What's interesting is that they will take a moment to think about it and some will answer. What else could you call a woman that refers to her vagina as her shit. I mean think of that imagery . . . she's equating her semi-precious genitalia to a steaming blob of stinking feces. Even if it's true, don't brag about it—Clean it up!
When searching for the root cause of why Negroes are filled with such negativity that even their positive adjectives are: “bad” and “shit”, and people they like are “fools” and “dogs” and “motherfuckers” and even “Niggers”, I was led by the evidence to their one most recurring connection . . . their momses.
As we know in Black culture the man is usually absent or has disappeared or is a constant bad example of their race and gender. So it is the mom who is the predominant parent in Black society . . . along with the grandma. The responsibility of raising the childrens falls onto the Negresses who become bitter to have to shoulder the burden alone. Therefore, they often treat their child like an unwanted guest in their lives.
My single mom copped an attitude toward me as if I had wronged her. I can remember at three and four years old wondering just what the hell I did to her to make her so cold hearted toward me . . . other than being born. When I was seven, she began giving me rage beatings out of her own frustration; she would cuss me and curse me with street profanity, like “motherfucker” and “fucking bastard” . . . I was neither by the way. When I was eight years old, Roe vs. Wade was passed to legalize abortion and she went on about how she wished the law had changed sooner so that an abortion was available to her in 1962. Back then it was too dangerous and too expensive for her to get one so she was forced to give birth to me against her will . . . and she wanted me to feel bad for her.
She justified her treatment by telling me she needed to make me tough because I was a boy. But what she did was make me a boy who grew up dealing with women as objects to dominate and entities to distrust. I couldn't trust my mother to be consistent with her emotions toward me, so I stopped seeking love from her, even though it broke my widdle heart. I wanted to make women love me so I could spurn their love as had been done to me to even the score of a game they were not involved with other than to be innocent proxies caught in the misdirected crossfire. I would maniacally hate-fuck them to display my power, and the more they loved me for the ribald delight they received the more I would look for ways to use their sexuality against them, so I could rule them. I had to protect my loving heart and poetic soul from these she-beasts at all costs, even if it meant being heartless with intent. When they told me that they loved me and cried for me to take their love, even if I couldn't share mine, it was the fuel I needed to distance myself from the pitiful little boy bringing mommy flowers, which she crushed and tossed.
Too damn many Black mothers treat their child like an object of their emotions rather than the subject of their emotions. One minute they're hugging and kissing on their kid, talking about “I lub you, babay” and the next they're cussing them out and wailing on them because they're having a bad day or they're sick of being twenty-four-seven/three-sixty-five times eighteen parents. A child in this kind of sick relationship will emotionally withdraw from the parent for protection and will reemerge in the world as an angry person who wants others to feel as bad as they do. I couldn't give my mother the ass kicking she had coming, but the first person that rubbed me wrong was going to suffer the full extent of my fury. Children like this are incapable of feeling good for the success of others and will ruin it for everyone, because they believe themselves unworthy of being successful or well adjusted, and will ultimately become incapable of reaching out to embrace humanity unless they find the courage to consider the feelings of others.
These brushed off children will pride themselves on being unloving and view it as strong, because it keeps them from being hurt by a woman. If they are in a possessive relationship that goes bad, rather than offering kindness and tenderness and consideration, which they regard as weakness, they start hollering and swinging on their mate, to show their strength.
Black men take great pride in their mistreatment of women; they receive respect for being dawgs to their biyatches and hoez as they so chivalrously refer to the female population. They sing and dance to tunes about beating down and pimping out their women like it was an achievement rather than a disgrace to the human race. The reason their misogynistic attitude is so glorified, is that they believe their women have betrayed them by so publicly denouncing them as lazy, violent, irresponsible and feculent . . . like it was some big secret that they let the White man in on; I mean who knew Black guys were like that until Black women verified it? C'mon, people . . . get real.
When Black children grow up hearing baby-mamas put down these no good broke ass two bit baby-daddies, the chance of ever respecting Black men is hopeless. They have to be loyal to mama by not taking their daddy's side . . . if they even know who he is or where he is. Mama got the food, so mama gets the loyalty . . . but it's oppressive. All the Black boy hears from the White world and his own mama is that he's going to grow up to be a lowlife . . . and that means the daughter will grow up believing that one day she'll end up with some baby-daddy Black man that's a lowlife and have some lowlife kids.
These baby-mamas are usually young and they want to have a social life and they can't afford babysitters, so they leave the four year old in charge of the two year old and the baby, and disasters happen. This is also a form of betrayal to the child who feels abandoned as minutes tick by like hours and the resentment grows while moms is out having herself a rump-bumping good time at the club, working on baby-daddy number three.
When these women bring their social life home, they end up being abused in front of their kids, or their kids are physically and sexually abused in the home; they see a Black man laying up on their mom, not working or being a thug or pimping her out and calling her out of name and this becomes normal to them so they continue and accept the trend as adults.
When I was a mere seven years old, my mother got into it with James Brand, then of WMEX Radio in Boston, right in our living room. He and my mother started yelling and when she went to push him out the door he grabbed her and shoved her against the wall. My mother started flailing at him—the way she used to do to me—and he whacked her back. I took a knife from the drawer, came up alongside him and stabbed him in his leg . . . the only reason I stabbed him in the leg is because he evidently dressed to the left. There was a moment of sullen levity afterward when we found his toupee in the hall, but it was nothing to laugh at; it was disgraceful to witness; it made me feel like trash, because she looked like shit.
Another time we were hiding in the house for hours with the married man my mother was dating, named David Agler, while his wife hollered and pounded on the door, calling my mother every name in the book . . . she wasn't up for a “Number 1 Mom” statuette from me.
When there's no male provider in the nuclear family, the boy has to become the man of the house at an all too early age and the single mother involves him in conversation and situations meant for an adult male. All he hears from his mama is that she ain't got nothing and so the boy starts doing what he can to get things for his mama, even if he has to commit crimes. Sadly the child is rewarded and given love and warmth for providing for mama, thus robbing him of his childhood . . . and his adulthood. These mothers set their children up for a lifetime of failure and anger because of their lazy, selfish slovenly ways . . . and I've got the crime statistics to prove it.
The mother is the physical embodiment of home and community and love and family . . . all the elements of humanity Black men so violently devalue. It is their disillusion with the mother figure that leads them to deface their neighborhoods with graffiti and garbage and reject their children while in the womb of the mother; they replace love with hatred.
The male drive to succeed is bolstered by the females in his life, beginning with the mother and channeling through the females he's interested in and onto the spouse. Female approval is a huge part of the male psyche, yet Black men do little to make their mothers or wives proud of them . . . they've made bitch-slapping an art form. Black men habitually shun the tasks associated with the male role in society . . . going to work, raising and supporting their children, taking out the garbage, mowing the lawn is all left undone. It's like Black men are on strike against Black women . . . if they don't get a kind mom and a decent woman to marry, they're not going to cross the picket line to build their culture. We talk about Black men abandoning their children, but at the core they're actually abandoning Black women and the babies get caught up in the switches.
When my mother would abuse me, as a small child, I would throw her things out the window; when she would disappear for days on end, I would piss in her closet; I would even stab the tires of her car so she couldn't split on me. She did not provide a home life with regular meals and activities; our homes were just warehouses for her clothes and junk; I was just a chore she was trying to get out of all the time.
We children of Nigger moms are left feeling envious, neglected, unwanted and disrespected, and since all these emotions are too many to manage, we just boil them all down to one . . . . anger. And since we can only get so angry at our mom, we take it out in every other aspect of our lives. If we are not treated with respect, we won't have any for ourselves and others; if we are not shown family pride, we'll have none; if we are not taught to be responsible citizens, we won't be. The reason Negroes dwell in slums is directly attributable to Black men; the reason the slums are squalid and crime ridden, is a tribute to the negative influence of the Black mother. Maybe this is why Negroes have made mother a four letter word.
The Black female has carved out more of an identity for herself and has lived truer to the African-American dream than the male of the species. They have no desire to find status in the White world or live with White neighbors and they rarely interracially mate, no matter how many bad experiences they have had with Black men. Since they have been advanced at a greater pace through the corporate world, they have learned how to use their bad attitudes as a strength rather than have it defeat them as a weakness. The generations of baby-mamas left behind at street level have gained strength without a male to support them; while dainty White wives played housekeeper for their bread winning husbands, Black women were hard at work to support their kids and often the man of their house. They worked their way into the mainstream by performing the thankless jobs and gained a measure of respect for doing what they had to do to get the bills paid. Because of this, they received pitiable understanding for becoming prostitutes to make their ends meet.
But none of this has led Black women to find self esteem. They are shunned by White men, unless they're in an alley after midnight; more insulting, is the way men from their own culture abandon them for any piece of shit White woman that will have them, just to feel like they've advanced themselves socially and culturally . . . you don't hear Black women called: “Trophy Wives”. Black women are the most negatively portrayed people in the media and in society; they represent the ugliest race of women and the crudest race of women and the bitchiest race of women on Earth, far and away . . . in this generation, they have embraced this characterization of themselves and enhanced it.
The sexuality of White women has been presented in men's magazines with airbrushed allure by sultry vixens in silken garb erotically disrobing in swanky boudoirs and exotic locales, while Negro women have been laid bare in the pages of National Geographic, in their filthy natural habitat, huddled around a watering hole with animals as flies surround their genitalia. It is a horrible imagery that imprints itself indelibly on the brain to categorize Black women as subhuman . . . seeing them in their Urban setting is actually even more of a turn off.
Young Black girls are taught and shown dozens of times a day that they're universally ugly and must assimilate their look to please everyone—they need to straighten their hair, slim down their ass, get their nose streamlined . . . but what can they do with their low forehead and sunken eyes and lips made for plates? Then she opens her mouth to speak and the world cringes at her loud-talking vulgar representation of herself, her culture and her gender.
None of these outside perceptions would be the final definition of their population if they had support in the home and acceptance from their own culture, but once again they're on their own to deal with feelings of humiliation and that leads them to become filled with self loathing which they pass along to their children.
I saw this Directv commercial with the upgraded Beyonce Knowles; she was all glammed up, in a sexy sequin shorty dress, her dyed blond, straightened hair flowing in the studio wind . . . her face was radiant, glowing in fact, with a luminescent high tone aura. Then the camera panned down on her dark chocolate thunder thighs and the contrast was startling. When the gilded Negresses affect this unnatural look, they illustrate that black is not beautiful even to other Black people; it teaches little Black girls that their hair and features and skin is unattractive to their own people, so it must be processed with Caucasian influences to soften the blow. Black women are forced to try and pass no matter how Black they are; the less like a Black woman they are the more attractive they will be in the eyes of Black men . . . and in their own eyes.
The one positive example my mother provided for me was her feminine presentation. She was clean and well dressed; she had creams and powders and all the female doodads that accentuate the lovely qualities of a woman; her colognes were intoxicating and her womanly ways made classy ladies extremely attractive to me to the point that I will go without if I can't be with a fine woman . . . her stature set a standard in my eyes.
A boy will not grow to be a man who appreciates elegant ladies if his mama goes around with a stanky ass, funky breath, armpit stench, and crotch rot, wearing clothes that are dirty and sprayed with some cheap fruity cologne that makes them smell worse; her unwashed body covered in lotion; her unclean hair gunked up with some grease . . . some of these Black women are growing mustaches and goatees, setting a new record for ugly women!
These are traits that make these mothers gross to their children and they will therefore be repulsed by the touch and smell of her. If you're a female of this low ilk, no doubt the other females in your life will be of this same poor quality, so the young Black male grows up in a world of nasty ass Black women and thinks of them all this way, making him guilty of the same stereotyping mentality that he will face from Caucasians.
By far, the worst trait of the female Negro is her ignorant mouth. There is nothing ladylike at all about their behavior or discourse. The greatest toll integration has wrought, is the destruction of the White female who now prides herself on walking and talking and throwing down like a Black female. When I see some Wigger bitch spewing out motherfucker and shit every other word, or arguing with their hand waving over their head and doing the chicken neck thing, it makes me hate on Black women everywhere—though it is not at all their fault that White women abandon their nature and identity in order to be the person they think will be the most accepted and get the most attention in a given moment; they will resort to any antic and stoop to any level to be one of the cool kids . . . and I have the pictures to prove it.

I used to believe that my righteous prejudice toward Black women is what made them so unattractive to me and I would never consider being with one sexually . . . I would've felt like some loser if I had to resort to doing a Black woman. I've seen some way mixeded ones that came close to doing it for me and I've probably been with some Hispanic chicks that may have had a bit of sista in them, but I had never been with a woman who could check the N-Box.
Then I met the lovely lady sharing the kiss with me in the photo—Sarah from New Zealand. She was visiting the European hostel above the hotel suite where I lived in the Hollywood hills. She was dark and lovely with more of a natural afro than the Black ladies wear in this country; she was dynamic and classy and spoke with a smashing British accent that I found scintillating . . . we had an attraction to each other at first sight, which stunned me.
After her first trip downtown, she came back so disgusted with Black men that she was a riot without trying to be. She was talking about being approached by one Black man after another with their hands in their pants trying to talk her up and hit on her by profanely detailing their prowess and dick size, then cussing her out for blowing them off. She declared: “No wonder you hate these Niggers so bad in this country . . . they're bloody animals.”
I was so taken with her that I was possessed to make love to her—my first and only Black chick. She was marvelous and we were simpatico. In bed, I did not feel the chasm of a racial divide nor did I feel ashamed for doing some Black girl like many White men do who keep it on the down low . . . and pay for it. She was no dark dirty secret and I had no physical or mental hurdle to get over. She was clean and demure and it was my pleasure to partake of her completely from head to toe.
In that moment, I learned that it was the attitude and/or carriage and/or speech and/or hygiene of Black women overall that I find offensive—not their skin color . . . her soft natural was much more appealing to the touch than the horsetail feel of processed hair; her polite manner and refined speech was arousing. Never once, as we made passionate love, did she exclaim anything like:“Oh baby my shit be moiwst as a motherfucker . . . you fixin' to make me com like a motherfucker! My shit be ready to nut, baby!” Her delicate approach to love making was quite demure and extremely intense . . . even her passionate wails were dignified.
While interracial breeding is a sticky wicket worldwide, in countries less advanced than ours they have no problem with interracial coupling, because the people involved do not represent negative stereotypes, so there is no disgrace in being with them. It wasn't just sex; I had an epiphany.
But when the lights came on, of course, I could not entertain any idea of beginning a relationship with her or having babies with her, because of my prejudice . . . but at least I knew that I was not a racist. I did not do her because I was horny; I desired her, because I was attracted to her charm and beauty. And here's the point. She was a great person filled with laughter; she was well educated and had an adventurous spirit, as well as a zest for love making, which are all qualities I admire and crave in a woman . . . she didn't even have a tattoo. So my prejudice may have in fact cost me a soul mate and today we would be basking in a dozen years of love and passion. Well then let that be on me. I want Black women to fix themselves up so fine and make themselves so appealing and become such sensitive, nurturing women that I'll be begging for one someday . . . and when y'all tell me you're not interested in my advances, it will be my great loss not yours.
More importantly, Black women need to bring Black men back to the fold by presenting an attractive feminine package and the way for them to do that is to start cultivating a better image of a woman to their children. It's getting so that Black women aren't even the lovely parting gift for the Black guys that didn't win the big deal White girl . . . they're becoming the booby prize that goes to losers who got no game. It used to be Black men took heat from Black men about getting with White women . . . now bruthaz is running dozens on bruthaz that can only get with sistaz.
For a decade I have lived in Memphis and have gone to places where congregations of Black women convene and the sight and sound and smell of them is depressing. When I stand in line behind them at Piggly Wiggly, or walk in the park behind them, or sit next to them at the D.M.V., breathing through my mouth because of the smell, trying not to look at them in their soiled clothing, doing what I can to ignore them as they talk all loud or cuss out their kids, I feel violated by their presence. Just think if one of those women were my mom what my opinion of women would be . . . particularly of Black women.
In my decades as a deejay in the L.A. strip clubs, I had to send a girl home for being funky two times . . . one White girl and one Black girl . . . a few other times I had to have a talk with them. In Memphis, every night I had to talk to Black ladies about their body odor and hip them to the fact that spraying on more cologne or spraying their dirty dance outfits with Lysol, wasn't making it.
Sitting in restaurants when those C.O.G.I.C. Saint ladies come to town is another kind of assault on the olfactory as they have sprayed a better brand of musk over the funk. At Applebees one time the servers put fans out to try to blow away the stink after they left. Customers were coming in the next day with a “What's that horrible smell?” look on their faces.
Now please, dear Black ladies of decorum, grace, manners, education, cleanliness and sagacity, who are doing the right thing with or without a good man, raising up children in a clean positive environment, without subjecting them to vulgarity and humiliation, please don't come back on me by arguing that this stereotype does not fit every single Black woman, because that will just allow these disgusting women to flourish with your blessing. I'm talking about the overwhelming number of sisters who be exactly like this and make all you prime time Black ladies get referred to as “nappy haired hoez” . . . and you know who they are when you see them, so say something about it to them, so I won't have to . . . and make sure y'all do that bitchy thang y'all do when you tell them.

NOW READ . . .

GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER?

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HEAVENS & COSMOS

2008-04-10T21:05:00.005-04:00

WHEN HEAVENS &

COSMOS COLLIDE

From the book . . .
THE HIGHER GROUND
written by:
THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS
&
PASTOR ANDRE GUY

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"The universe is not only stranger than we imagine it to be; it is stranger than we can imagine it to be." —Carl Sagan

KINGPIN: You say: “Adam”; I say: “Atom”, yet we each believe that we are all relative to each other. Not only are we all cousins, our D.N.A. is present in every living thing on the Earth, including the planet itself, which means that we have a genetic link to the entire universe. The Christian Holy Trinity is The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit; mine are protons, neutrons and electrons. Every year, one hundred thousand tons of stardust from across the galaxy falls onto this planet. Of the ninety-two natural elements on Earth, more than half come from other worlds—we are made of star stuff. We were not created in God’s image; we were created in the image of the universe—each one of us is designed like our own galaxy; what you see through a telescope when you look to the heavens resembles what you see through a microscope looking at biology.
From the dawn of time, mankind has looked upward with awe and wonder and felt the stars reaching back—we all know there is something out there; something greater than ourselves . . . in our hearts we know that we’re not alone in the universe and that’s why we continue to explore the galaxy with our mind and technology. To mankind the unknown is foreboding and chaotic, so God was appointed to keep the order and comfort our greatest fears. Even the word cosmos means control. Mankind’s fatal flaw is an inability to say: “I don’t know”. This human weakness has been exploited to the fullest by religion. God is used by man to explain the origin of the universe, so the believer becomes an all-knowing being just by reciting scripture. God is also used by man to soften the horror of death, so that mere mortals are granted an afterlife as eternal as the stars—as long as they do everything they’re told to do by the religious elders of their sect. Religion is the perfect placebo for mankind, who always wants to be right, and never wants to die, whereas science reinforces that we are mortally insignificant—our whole galaxy but a speck on a split atom . . . we are not the center of anything; we are out here on the edge of our galaxy, hanging by a thread, without a safety net, just one collision with a boulder away from Armageddon.
Gazing upward at infinity, scholars were moved profoundly by the universe that engulfed them; some wrote odes, others wrote charts, and these ideas became the foundation for science and religion. Like we did as children, they stared at the clouds and interpreted their shapes; they peered at the stars and connected the dots to draw images with their mind’s eye for a point of reference—for them, it was like watching television. Once the characters in the sky had been determined, sages concocted fables about them for entertainment and enlightenment purposes; these tales were told and retold so often that they became taught as tradition and then history.
For centuries, Greeks believed that Zeus got into his fiery chariot and streaked around the Earth as the sun God . . . we still say the sun rises and sets when it does no such thing. The Milky Way got its name because it was believed to be the breast milk of the goddess Harrah squirting across the sky. Today, these ridiculous tales are referred to as mythology, while the equally ludicrous fables of Christianity are said to be The Truth.
Religious elders used the cosmos to manipulate the masses by presenting comets, meteor showers, falling stars, planetary alignments, and other celestial occurrences as messages from God, which always meant that the peasants needed to work harder, pay higher taxes, and sacrifice more virgins to the hierarchy or else natural happenings like lightning, hurricanes, droughts, downpours, blizzards, famine, pestilence, tsunamis, plagues and earthquakes would be sent down as punishment.
All over the world, cultures contemplated the same sky, and soon every set of stone tablets contained a different supposition about the origins of man, the workings of the Earth, and the significance of the twinkling lights above . . . the only thing each religion had in common were laws that were enforced with torture and death, and ideologies that righteously enslaved ethnic and religious minorities, and sentenced women to domestic servitude. Man’s impish attempts to explain the great unknown of outer space unleashed bloody battles, and Earth became the intersection where the heavens and the cosmos collide, whenever two or more cultures come together to offer their alternate mortal versions of the infinite universe.
Then, as now, the struggle was not to preserve God, or Gods, or humanity, but to secure funds from congregants with threats of fire and brimstone for nonbelievers and the promise of superiority to followers. Religion spread anarchy and horror with their laws, so people would be in need of prayer and salvation; much the way our government does, religion created the need that it supplied, by making sure there were always moral and religious enemies to rally the flock against.
Long before the advent of fire, mankind worshipped stars and planets, and viewed them as Gods. At the time when Moses was delivering The Ten Commandments, the ancient Dogon Tribe in Africa had charted our solar system with the planets revolving elliptically around the sun, which was confirmed thousands of years later by Einstein. They worship the dwarf star Po Tolo (Sirius B) that orbits around the star Sirius, because they believe it to be the heaviest object in the universe. Westerners did not discover Po Tolo until 1862, when it was seen through a high-powered telescope, and it wasn’t photographed until 1970. In the 1920s, science revealed that white dwarf stars are the densest known objects in the universe. The Dogons believe the Earth will be destroyed in May 2012 at the time of our next planetary alignment. They contend that the Nommos, a half-man half-fish species from the twelfth planet in our solar system, brought this cosmological knowledge to their people.
Almost every Indian tribe believes that they were brought here from another planet. They have referred to Earth as “The Blue World” for thousands of years, but we had no idea what color our planet was until we saw it from outer space for the first time in the 1950s, which is why ancient maps and globes are usually beige.
Five hundred years before the time of Jesus, the Ionians along the Mediterranean secretly charted the position of our solar system at the very edge of the galaxy. They also were the first to realize our whole solar system orbited around the Milky Way once every 250 million years. They determined that humans originated from mud and water, and had no soul, so they didn’t believe in an afterlife. They concluded that we were in orbit around the sun with six other planets and the moon. The grandfather of mathematics, Pythagoras, was the first to deduce the Earth was round, and realized that we didn’t fly off the surface, because we were falling through space just a little faster than the Earth was . . . thus, gravity. Most radical of all, was their notion that this planet was constantly moving in a circle around the sun while spinning on its axis . . .
But these ideologies were doomed, because humanity certainly did not want to hear that we’re mere mortal beings destined to rot and die, and they could not fathom that we were on some orb flying through space at 17,000 miles per hour. So, to preserve ignorance, Democrates, Axamander, Theodorus, Socrates, and other intellectuals around the world were put to death for impiety in the name of Zeus, or Marduck, or Ra, or Apollo, or Mythra, or God by any other name, for their interpretations of the stars and the origins of mankind. The writings of these men and their inventions were tragically destroyed, but fortunately their ideas were spread across the underground of academia for two millenniums until men like Newton, Copernicus, Galileo, and Kepler risked their lives to teach science again and suddenly the world was no longer flat and stationary . . . the cosmos were reborn.
When Albert Abraham Michelson became the first American to win the Nobel-Prize, in 1907, for accurately measuring the speed of light, the scientific community was catapulted forward with warp speed. Traveling at 186 thousand miles per second, it takes the light of the sun 8-plus minutes to travel 93 million miles to Earth—that’s a good 11 million miles per minute; 670-odd million miles per hour; over 16 billion miles a day. So for those of you keeping score at home, a light year is nearly 6 trillion miles. It was then that scientists realized that as we looked upward into space we are also looking backward in time. The next closest star to our sun is Sirius, over 50 trillion miles away, so the light from there travels about nine years to blink in our sky tonight. From this distance, we see Orion’s Belt as it looked at the time of Jesus, so if one of those stars went nova a thousand years ago, we wouldn’t see the explosion for another thousand years.
The farther we look out into space, the further back in time we travel . . . well beyond the linear, 5,766 year chronology of the universe contained in The Bible. The center of the Milky Way is 30 thousand light years from Earth. Our next nearest galaxy is Andromeda over 2.5 million light years away. The light from some quasars began traveling here 8 billion years ago, which was 3 billion years before the Earth was even formed.
Behind that there is a great back light, a glowing force—the sky is never really pitch black . . . and there it is; you are looking at it with your own two eyes, the light from The Big Bang from some 15 billion years ago—in fact we can even read the radiation signature of The Big Bang here on Earth; it’s all around us.
The universe is as alive as we are, because The Big Bang is eternal; the explosion continues 15 billion light years from here, creating galaxies with destinies we cannot imagine. In the time that it took you to read this line, a million new stars will be born and a million more will die—someday, only a few billion years from now, one of those dying stars will be our sun.
Here on this one simple planet, we’ve charted a million life forms . . . just think how many billions of life forms are contained in this never ending, ever-expanding universe; more species on Earth have become extinct than are alive now. The Milky Way appears to be a mist to the naked eye, a blur through a telescope, when it is actually comprised of well over four hundred billion stars that stretch across a hundred thousand light years. Yet, our Milky Way is just a dot in a high-powered telescope from the vantage point of distant galaxies. Every light up in the sky is a sun and around those billions of suns are billions of planets, some dead, some alive, some growing and evolving, others decaying and crumbling—striving for life or clinging to it.
One thing is certain; wherever there is life they will share our D.N.A.—on Earth as it is in the cosmos . . .

PASTOR: First of all, read the Book of Genesis and you’ll know how and where and when mankind came into being . . . you’ll even know who God first breathed life into. Genesis is the story of how God created man in The Garden of Eden and a woman from the rib of man. The Bible isn’t the story of the fish in the sea, the creepy crawly creatures that creepeth upon the Earth, the birds in the sky, or the giants that roamed the Earth before God created man. The Gospel is very clear that man isn’t related to a fish, or a creature, or the giants, and he wasn’t no ape. There’s no reason for Christians to deny the existence of cavemen and dinosaurs, just because their stories are not detailed in The Bible, after the first paragraph.
It’s man that assigned a linear time to God’s work. In The Bible it tells you that a day to God is like a thousand years in our time, so how can scientists use man’s timetable to refute the existence of God? Seven days to you and me isn’t seven days to God, anymore than five thousand years to us is five thousand years to God.
God created a universe where man would never grow bored or lazy, because idle hands and minds work for the Devil. He instilled us with curiosity so that we would live in wonder. It was left to man to discover the history of this world, and chart the stars, if that’s what he wanted to do with his time. The Bible is meant to provide man with a clear path to Heaven; not the cosmos. The stories in The Bible are to teach you how to live in this world; it’s not meant to be an encyclopedia. The people written of in The Bible were chosen by God to do divine work so that we would know what His intentions for us were by their example.
God puts no restriction on the development of technology and medicine. God could’ve shown us how to build a car or a rocket ship, or just created them, but He placed these challenges before us so mankind would strive together in brotherhood to fulfill our destiny. God could’ve told us how to cure every disease, but He leaves it to us to develop our humanity by facing crisis and tragedy. God wants you to grow into a person who is capable and wise; He wants us to build this world into a place that gives Him pride; He wants you to maximize your potential, and realize your dreams and find inner peace, and pursue your goals . . . just like any father would want for his children.
Christians are being taught to reject science, because the Catholic Church believes these discoveries and this technology disproves the existence of God—Oh ye of little faith! But really, science has only disproved the interpretations of The Bible that’ve been put forth by man—God’s word is absolute . . . The Bible don’t say that the Earth is flat and that you’ll fall off if you travel too far; that was an old sailor’s superstition. When the Christian folk told the Wright Brothers that if man were meant to fly we’d have wings, they weren’t quoting The Bible. The Bible don’t say that the Earth is standing still in the heavens; that was the conclusion of ancient scientists trying to explain God’s master design of the universe . . . and they got it wrong, because they couldn’t figure out how we could be on a round planet without falling off. The Bible don’t say nothing about us not being able to land on the lights in the sky—that’s just pulpit fiction. Anyway, the light we see coming from the moon and planets is a reflection of the sun; the lights in the sky are stars, and you can’t land on a sun.
The Bible don’t say that we shouldn’t be healed by a physician; those’re laws put forth by denominations that proclaim to be acting in the Christian faith—Luke was Paul’s doctor. Doctors use their skills as instruments of God when they heal the sick. Doctors pray to God for the welfare of their patients and they’ve documented miracles that they can’t explain with any known science. Hospitals have got chapels so people can go pray to God to take over when doctors have done all they can do.
These denominations that preach how God don’t want you to drive a car, and God don’t want you to use lights, and God don’t want you watching television, and God don’t want you using a computer, are not quoting from The Bible. God wants us to be creative and share our abilities to make life more efficient and pleasant for ourselves and others.
Just the way each religion proclaims that their doctrine is: “The Truth”, each theory of science believes that they are reporting: “The Facts” and then they call their findings: “Scientific Law”. Yet, over the last few centuries, these so-called “laws of science” are contradicted every few decades by new laws. So how long will it be before the scientific laws all these people believe in become obsolete? Just two decades ago scientists believed that everything needed sunlight and oxygen to live and now they realize there’re more living creatures on the bottom of the ocean than there are on the surface. In every generation, there’re competing theories that’re interpreted differently by each study group, depending on who’s doing the funding. They setout to find the truth they’re looking for and use scientific probabilities to make their case.
For thousands of years, we believed the Earth was the center of the universe and all the stars and planets orbited around us, because a scientist named Ptolemy said so—not God. Sir Isaac Newton came along and his understanding of the universe was called: “Newtonian Law”, until Albert Einstein came along with his: “Theory of Relativity” and then his findings became law. Now scientists are working on debunking Einstein’s theories with a new explanation of the universe they foolishly call: “The Theory of Everything”. The scientific community is only starting to realize that the universe didn’t come into being by some random chance and’re beginning to believe that a higher intelligence created the universe with intent . . . they’re making the journey back to God and they don’t even know it yet.
God gave us freewill so that we’d be capable of doing anything; He gave us the choice to dedicate our lives to good or evil; He provided us with all the ingredients to make whatever we wanted. God will judge us on how we served Him while on Earth, so He made sure we would have the tools to live our dreams. God gave us all this bounty; He sent His only Son to Earth to be sacrificed for all of our sins, and in return all He asks is that we proclaim Him . . . to thank Him. But instead, we believe we’re too intelligent for God, because we’ve got computers and we can send a rocket ship to the end of our solar system; we’ve turned scientists and doctors and professors into false prophets by using their discoveries to dismiss God.
God and The Bible got thrown out of school in favor of teaching children The Big Bang Theory, and Darwin’s Theory of Evolution, as if they were indisputable facts. It’s acceptable to teach alternate scientific theories to our children, but they’re not allowed to factor in the existence of God even when Albert Einstein said that he dedicated his whole life to catching God at work.
Scientists have charted what they call: “The Big Bang” and use it to scientifically disprove the existence of God, when it could just as easily scientifically prove the existence of God. We’ve got no earthly idea what power God used to create the universe and just because they use a scientific term to describe it, don’t mean it’s not God’s providence. God’s mysteries are many and man’s understandings are few, so the most intelligent answer we can give is: “I don’t know.” That’s where our search for God begins and often ends . . .

CALLER: Pastor, do you believe that there is life on other planets?
PASTOR: I believe that I don’t know . . .
CALLER: If there is life on other planets, wouldn’t The Bible tell us so?
PASTOR: The Bible teaches us everything we need to know; it don’t teach us everything there is to know. The Bible teaches us about living on Earth so that we have a place in The Kingdom when we die. But let’s say there’s life on another planet. We know there’re no planets in this solar system with life on it, so if there’s life on a planet a million light years away we’ll never get there . . . it isn’t important for us to know, because it don’t effect us here on Earth.
KINGPIN: Evangelist Billy Graham has taken the high road by purporting that when we die we go to the other planets in the universe to preach Christianity to Extra Terrestrials.
PASTOR: I’ve got the deepest respect for Billy Graham, but he’ll have to show me that passage in The Bible.
KINGPIN: It might be that bit in Genesis when the sons of God came down from the sky and knocked up the daughters of man . . . The Bible has more stories of Extra Terrestrial encounters than Chariots of the Gods does. You know “The Virgin” Mary isn’t the only unmarried woman who claimed to have been non-sexually impregnated by an Angel or God . . . the mothers of Alexander, Buddha, and Julius Caesar are among those to make this claim. Maybe these women were artificially inseminated by a higher order of life form not of this world . . .
CALLER: That’s crazy! You can’t say something like that about the Blessed Mother! Your show should be off the air!
KINGPIN: We’re on the air to explore the questions. For millenniums, it was said that The Immaculate Conception was impossible, and now we know that it can be done easily with a turkey-baster.
CALLER: What do you think about Kingpin talking like that about The Holy Mother, Pastor?
PASTOR: As a Christian I don’t pray to Mary . . . Mary is dead.
CALLER: But he’s saying Jesus was some E.T.!
PASTOR: That’s why his beliefs are his own, not mine . . . but it’s another way of saying Jesus was not an Earthly being, so he may be taking a step toward becoming a Christian—I’m going to make him my deacon yet.
KINGPIN: The scariest day in my life was when I realized that the adults weren’t pulling my leg with their belief in God. They took all that time to explain to children there was really no Santa, no Easter Bunny, and no Tooth Fairy, then began spouting Bible stories like they were actual historical accounts and speaking of God as if He were an actual entity rather than a fictional character from an ancient tome told by a primitive and superstitious people . . . I still get chills when I hear people do that.

CALLER: (Male, White age 54) You got people everyday looking up in the sky and looking past God to find the Zodiac and think that the position of stars all those billions of miles away have an effect on us.
KINGPIN: The moon and planets control our weather systems and the oceans, so they obviously have an effect on our minute human bodies, which are made up of 95% water . . . particularly during the time when we’re forming in the water sack of the womb. Astrology and Wicca humbly acknowledges that our Earth is part of a cosmic tapestry . . . a universal fugue where we sing harmony.
CALLER: Believing in Astrology is like worshipping a false God.
KINGPIN: Actually the only heavenly worship that makes any sense is sun-worshipping, because the sun gives us life . . .
PASTOR: You’re saying it right, but you’re spelling it wrong . . .
CALLER: Them primitive cultures had a God for everything and some had Goddesses that ruled equal to men.
PASTOR: There is no God but God . . .
KINGPIN: Well, I agree with the first half of that statement . . .

CALLER: (Male, Black age 34) Science classes are racist! They teach that Blacks are inferior to Whites; that Blacks are closer to monkeys and that Whites are highest order of humans.
KINGPIN: Whites are the latest evolution of human beings . . . humanity progresses from darkness to light in all respects.
PASTOR: We were watching “The Rise of Man” on The Science Channel, and they kept saying how the dark Homo Erectus people couldn’t think, but as soon as their skin lightened they became Homo Sapiens that could think . . . now how could any scientist, by any science, have a clue what someone was capable of thinking a million years ago? That’s not science; that’s propaganda.
CALLER: It was Darwin that said that Blacks are more like apes than men.
KINGPIN: In his book, The Descent of Man, Darwin noted that the genetic differences between Negroes and Caucasians fit the scientific criteria for declaring them to be two different species . . .
CALLER: When they say all that stuff about us having smaller brains, and longer arms, and bigger nostrils, and yellow eyes, and wooly hair, and curved spines they’re trying to teach the world we’re like monkeys so we’re treated as subhuman.
KINGPIN: And you’re saying that Negroes have none of those traits?
CALLER: I’m saying it don’t matter; we’re all human beings . . .
KINGPIN: A dentist can look at a tooth and immediately tell you if it came from a Negro or a Caucasian, or a horse or a tiger; an anthropologist can look at a skeleton and tell you its ethnicity, no matter where they’re from. Negroes and Caucasians are different—that’s not a theory or propaganda; it’s a fact.
PASTOR: Well it’s true that we have those physical differences, and others, but what makes it propaganda is that they use these scientific findings to teach that Blacks are inferior instead of just different.
CALLER: Those scientists say our brains are smaller and don’t grow like Whites . . . they even say we’re dumber because our big toe is smaller.
PASTOR: But scientists also say that Blacks have a more powerful nervous system that gives us more energy and makes us more instinctive. You see, there’s more than one way to learn something and Whites only grade us on our ability to do it their way—by the book. There is stored knowledge and applied knowledge. One may know more about it and the other may be better at doing it. If you gave a Black person and a White person a test on Chess, the White person may know more about gambits and strategies and the history of the game, while the Black person may be the superior player . . .
KINGPIN: We cannot discount observation of facts. When we came upon the Negro in their natural habitat, they had not developed a written language, planted a crop, weaved a cloth, built a road or even invented the wheel . . . they lived in mud huts that weren’t as sophisticated as the dwellings built by beavers. This was anywhere from thousands to a million years behind the rest of the world . . . the only difference is that they didn’t have Whitey to blame for their violent, stagnate culture.

CALLER: (Male, White age 57) When man tried to build the Tower of Babel, to reach Heaven and see God, it was God that knocked it down. That’s what people were referring to when they said man shouldn’t fly or go out into space, because it was against God’s wishes.
PASTOR: The edge of the Earth’s atmosphere is over one hundred miles up in the sky; today’s tallest buildings aren’t quite half a mile high. The Pyramid of Kufu was the tallest building in the world for over four thousand years and it’s only four hundred-something feet tall. Man had no chance of reaching Heaven with a tower or a ladder, so God knocked them down for their own good.
KINGPIN: Just like me; God detests fools . . .

CALLER: (Male, Black age 52) I’ll tell you something that White men try to keep hidden from the American public, is that there’s a peaceful, advanced society of Black people from this planet living on Mars below the surface that have been there for over five hundred years—they fled there just as slavery was beginning . . .
PASTOR: What in the world makes you think that?
CALLER: The Nation of Islam revealed this truth, believe it or not.
KINGPIN: I believe it, because they’ve told worse lies than that . . .
CALLER: I’ll tell you something else White men can’t stand to find out, is that these Black men have developed technologies beyond anything the White man can come up with.
PASTOR: Then how come Africa is so underdeveloped?
CALLER: Because Westerners have kept Africans from developing our country because they know that we’ll be superior to them.
KINGPIN: And yet all the technology in Africa has come from Whites.
CALLER: Because that’s all the Whites want us to have, so they don’t let us develop technologies better than theirs.
PASTOR: So there’s a technologically advanced, peaceful society of Blacks still living on Mars?
CALLER: That’s right . . . in fact, when White men tried to send that probe up to Mars, the Black men there shut it down and it crashed.
KINGPIN: Well that clears up one of life’s great mysteries . . . at least now we know where they filmed “The Cosby Show”.

EMAIL- While it’s true that scientific laws have changed; it has been a peaceful transformation. The Newtonians didn’t imprison and slaughter the Einsteinians and that is why religions are dangerous, because they’re willing to kill you to convert you.
EMAIL- Science identifies the pieces and God shows us the puzzle, but we’ve got to work together to make it all fit. If one piece is missing it’s ruined.
EMAIL- This is a universe of intelligent design, but it’s a higher science not a higher power that created us. The scientists that created this universe are long dead; in fact The Big Bang may have wiped them out and brought us into being—there’s a message in there for today’s scientists.

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NOW READ . . .
HIGH ON EARTH

*******

LISTEN TO THE KINGPIN!
*******

Visit THE GIFT SHOP to purchase stylewear and items with unique designs and original isms created by THE KINGPIN

*******
Minors and prudes are not welcome . . .

RECIDIVISM

2008-04-10T05:39:00.008-04:00

GOT'CHA BY THE TAIL

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

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“Money will determine whether the accused goes to prison or walks out a free man.”

—Johnnie “Cockroach” Cochran

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There is yet another negative syndrome connected to the Afro American male—poor Black bastards—and that is RECIDIVISM, whereby once you go to jail, you will spend much of your life in the revolving door of the injustice system . . . next you become institutionalized to your core, which means you think of yourself as, and think like, a criminal, even if you aren't anymore; even if you never wronged someone in your life yet landed in jail anyway, you perceive yourself to be a criminal because society has branded you as one.
In 1997, I was in the jailhouse when the Bank of America shooting went down in North Hollywood, California—the one where the crooks were dressed in armor blasting it out with police. Because I was in jail, I naturally rooted against the cops; when the dorm started cheering the hoodlums on, the deputies turned off the sets. No matter how strong your mind is and firm your outlooks are, you get caught up in jail mentality without realizing it. It wasn't until I got out a couple of weeks later and saw all the tributes for the slain officers and bystanders that I felt deeply saddened . . . and ashamed of myself.
Not everyone who is in jail is a criminal, just because they broke a law. Laws constantly change, so citizens are reclassified and unclassified as criminals all the time for committing nothing more that an act of personal, consensual behavior. You can end up in jail for getting high and laid in this country. Because of the arcane concept of states rights, you can commit an act that is perfectly permissible in one state then cross a state border and be arrested as a felonious perpetrator for the same act . . . so much for these being united states.
Here in Memphis, if I allow myself to be seduced by a sweet sixteen year old hottie, I will be sent to prison for years; I will have to undergo psychotherapy to explain my freakish predilection for tawny, nubile babes in the full flower of their puberty at an age before they shave, pierce and tattoo their vagina. After prison, counseling and parole, I will be a registered sex offender whose picture will be plastered allover my neighborhood so I can be a social outcast and a pariah on the job market . . . all because I was fortunate enough to have an ingénue erotically desire me.
Fortunately, the progressive state of Mississippi is just a few miles up the road so I have my little slice of teen heaven meet me at the Super 8 in lovely Southaven and we boink the night and most of the next day away and the only thing people can do is playa hate on me that I still got it in spite of my advanced age and weight.
In every state, sixteen year olds are given the responsibility to drive and to work, but in thirty seven states they aren't allowed to decide to whom they wish to give up their semi-precious nookie. That's taxation without representation! Statutory Rape is a non crime, since it depends on where you commit it. Though I have and hopefully will continue to engage in the act defined as Statutory Rape, I have never actually committed that crime, because of the jurisdiction where it took place. Go figure.
In parts of the world, drug use is legal; some places have legal prostitution; some places in America at least decriminalize these activities. But there's no place where murder and robbery and rape is condoned. We don't need to vote on what should be illegal, because we already know. If we have to vote on it then it's not a crime . . . it's an issue.
In some places it is legal to gamble in other places it is not, so how can it be a crime? One day a bunch of painters were taking a break in back of the shop and pitching quarters to pass time. The police rolled up and kidded with them for a minute then asked who the biggest winner was. This guy, Hector, bragged he was, and the pigs arrested him. Because he was on probation for drugs, he was violated and ended up doing four months in the county jail. He lost his apartment and his job and when he couldn't get work he resorted to dealing cocaine, which landed him in prison for two years. All that time in jail and he had yet to wrong a soul.
We need to ignore conceptual criminals who commit crimes based on shifting legislation and direct our efforts totally toward slamming hardcore criminals whose crimes leave victims and their lives in shambles . . . if they survive. We have enough violent crime in this country to declare a state of national emergency and impose martial law . . . there is a clear and present danger, so exigent circumstances exist.
Naturally the epicenter of crime and Urban terrorism is found in the heart of the ghetto near you . . . and if you don't have one nearby, their members will find you wherever you are. While there is much debate over the level of blame shouldered by White society for Negroes going wrong in the first place, there is no doubt that the guidelines of the penal system all but guarantees their return. Overall, Recidivism for offenders is about two out of three; for Negroes alone, it is eight out of ten. When you take drugs out of the equation, the numbers for Caucasian Recidivism is two out of ten; for Negroes, it's six out of ten. When you narrow Recidivism down solely to violent crimes, Caucasians fall below one out of ten; Negroes climb back up the charts to nine out of ten . . . four out of ten of them will be back in prison within a year for another violent offense. Caucasians generally commit their worst crime on their first time out, where Negroes have an escalating level of crime . . . your first carjacking is always your toughest—after that it's all downhill.
People who go to jail are there because they choose not to follow the laws—some because they feel the laws violate their right to choose and others because they choose not to respect the rights of others. But either way, once you go in, you will come out with less freedom than you had, which certainly increases your odds of a second bit . . . and a third or more until it becomes an inevitable cycle.
At arrest time, the Negro is already at a disadvantage in the system, by and large, because of the bail requirements. It doesn't matter if the dollar figure of the bail is applied equally if only some can afford it. In order for equality to prevail then either everyone is released or no one is released during the trial process. Because of this bail application, the jails are full of people who have not been sentenced, but cannot bail out. They may be acquitted or even sentenced to less time than they have done while awaiting trial, because of the backed up courts. Except in cases of violent crimes, all defendants should be free until found Guilty . . . it would sure save us a fortune in taxes. The bail system needs to be abolished in the name of democracy for all, because it is currently a venue to buy a different standard of justice. If a jury sees you in an orange jumpsuit and shackles, you are presumed guiltier than a free person in a suit mingling in the halls during breaks.
Negroes are sentenced to more time and less parole than Caucasians who commit the same crime, because each are rightfully looked upon as part of a greater problem—White carjackers are not the scourge of the nation. The reason for this subpolicy has little or nothing to do with the racism of judges from all ethnic groups, and nearly everything to do with the infuriating Black race reps who campaign to preserve, protect and defend Black criminals by blaming the very White establishment that holds the fate of criminal Negroes in their hands. Brilliant! These Blacktivists condemn the so-called “White justice system” in the court of public opinion and the defense attorney brotherhood focuses on incriminating Middle America for the crimes committed by Urban Americans . . . then they all conspire to make the victim disappear by waving irrelevant Civil Rights issues in the face of the vulnerable jury. Sadly this kind of injustice will continue, because it is the only defense a guilty Negro has and sometimes it works in the proper climate . . . the Hail Mary at the gun.
When legislation tries to get tough on crime, the first people to rise up in opposition are Negroes, who accuse Caucasians of trying to target them, just because an overwhelming amount of violent crimes are committed by Negroes. When the laws governing crack cocaine became stricter than for powder cocaine, Black power brokers complained the law was directed at Blacks because they are predominately rock smokers. They didn't factor in that the law applied evenly to all crackheads—because they become crack monsters when they're sprung that will kill you and sell you body parts for a hit of that rocky road—they just made it about Black and White . . . while identifying their race as crackheads.
When law enforcement goes after gangbangers and carjackers, it is a foul against Negroes, since, after all, gangbangers and carjackers are predominately Black. The great Black lament is that White bureaucrats put more Negroes in prison than they send to college, as if Negroes had no hand in choosing which path they wanted to take; like we select which Negroes go to prison and which Negroes go to college by picking names out of a hat.
Once the Negro is found guilty, he will be sentenced to the ultimate maximum, with sentences running consecutively whenever possible, not just for his own despicable crimes, or as a warning to all the other criminals out there in Nigger Nation, but to take it out on the Black representatives who corrupt the legal system with their sermons on racism, and to punish the Black lawyers who argue that “Angry Black Man Syndrome” should become a mitigating factor to free Negroes of violent crimes; it is redress against the ONE Black juror in so many mistrials that withholds a guilty plea against a fellow Negro, not because they believe the brutha is innocent, but because they believe that the White man done drove him to commit crimes with fo' hunnid yeez o' slavery . . . etc . . . we all know that tune in one sour note.
So what chance does a person, who has shown that they are socially challenged by the laws, have of staying out of the poky, if they additionally have to follow a bunch of arbitrary rules that have nothing to do with the law? If you're on parole, you can be violated for stipulations, like having a drink of liquor or staying out past curfew or hanging out with the wrong person—if you stay in the ghetto, you'd have to live in solitary confinement not to mix with other criminals, so keep your toothbrush packed. If a regular guy gets popped with a joint, he'll get a ticket . . . maybe. But the ex offender can be sent to prison for months or years depending on the conditions of their parole. Where's the justice?
The government makes the case that the parolee is not technically free, though actually free; they are still in the system, yet on the streets. So even though they are expected to be hard working, law abiding, taxpaying citizens, like anyone else, they are not equal under the laws of democracy, because they are not free . . . this is the recipe for Recidivism. If this person is not free, then leave them in prison until they are then turn them loose and leave them be.
Parole is an institution, because the prisons are filled with people who have been incarcerated for victimless crimes, so there's not enough room for the bad guys to do their time. It's high time to send all the druggies and gamblers and pimps and hookers home, and do away with the parole system that sends criminals back to the streets in half the time they were sentenced to then puts them on parole for the other half . . . we're turning our nation into a halfway house.
Once free of the tail, we ex felons are not completely free—we are marked for life. This ordinance provides a slave labor force, because ex felons cannot get hired for anything more than dirty work. I am an intelligent man with drive, creativity and talent, but my resume states that I am a junior high school dropout and an ex felon, so there are few professions that will allow me through the door after a background check . . . throw in a piss test for Marihuana and I'm kicked to the curb. Even janitors and ditch diggers have to pass drug and background tests, so what's left?
There are different eternal restrictions inflicted on us depending on the crime we've committed or the state we live in. Some of us can't serve liquor, or own a gun for protection, or vote, or be bonded, or get a passport, or get a Pell Grant, or receive Food Stamps. But it also provides a great dodge from serving the country in the armed forces or pulling jury duty, so all the law abiding schmucks have to pick up the slack. Who does this really punish?
Although the state never sentenced me to more than six months at any one time, the laws of the land have imposed a lifetime sentence on me for something that I did between twenty five and twenty years ago . . . I don't even look like that person anymore. My offense as a drug dealer puts me in the same boat with jackers, molesters, thieves, rapists and killers. I have two strikes on me, so any piddly felony could potentially put me away for life, like I was some danger to society. You may not like to believe this, but ex felons are entitled to the same rights as any other free person . . . to enforce the oppression of a free person is a high crime. It makes no sense to restrict a person from becoming all they can be. If you uphold this edict then you must be ready to accept the tragic consequences.
When a person has done their time then that should close the books; you should emerge from incarceration with a clean slate until you commit another crime—not a violation; a crime—then your record should be held against you. But when I apply for a job, my record should not be an issue, because I am not a wanted man. I thought ours was a rehabilitation system designed to reform criminals; what happened to paying your debt to society? Think of this . . . it is considered unconstitutional to hold prior bad acts against me in a court of law, but they can be held against me in society.
Now you decent folk out there may believe that this form of endless punishment is just, because once a criminal always a criminal. But what do you imagine we former felons will resort to if we can't get hired to legit work? No one will lay at the curb and quietly starve to death and a desperate person is a dangerous person. The only career opportunities for ex offenders with a chance for advancement and fringe benefits, are in the field of criminal activity. Is the goal to increase crime in this country?
I am a firm believer that there are people who have committed crimes so despicable that they deserve no consideration. I am certain many of you believe this as well, but let us decide which crimes they are—all felons are not equal, so we should not all be lumped into a single category. People who commit murder—whether it's coldblooded or in the heat of passion; child molesters—and I don't mean statutory rapists; and predator rapists—as opposed to date rapists, should never see the light of day in freedom again; they deserve no reprieve of any kind; they have forfeited their right to be rehabilitated, because their victims will never recover.
We must also redefine what a crime is definitively, so that people are not under attack from the law. No Victim! No crime No Time! This idiom is the first step in saving people from the revolving door of justice, so that they're either out or they're in . . . all the way.

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REV. DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.

2008-04-08T03:52:00.023-04:00

THE LYIN' KING

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

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“I came to Selma to help . . . if White people realize what the alternative is, perhaps they will be more willing to hear Dr. King.”

—Malcolm X

I have a living nightmare . . . that I wake up in a country where all the dreams envisioned by the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr., for his people, came true, at the expense of my people, and the nation was left in ruins . . . then I go to sleep screaming into my pillow in order to deal with this dire reality.
King's legacy closely parallels the fable of the so-called: “Jesus Christ”. Not so much for the courageously peaceful public stance each took in the face of oppressive discrimination by a government that enforced bigotry—since that was as self-serving as not in the case of both of these men and belied the undercurrent of their true message—but because of the rewrite of history by their apostles and followers, who use their name and likeness for whatever agenda needed to line their pockets or excuse their barbarity.
Like with the parables of Jesus, King's speeches take on whatever meaning the ear of the beholder wants to believe, so their words have alternately been used to support and attack abortion, homosexuals, criminals, illiteracy, racism, sexism and war---largely because each were able to play to a portion of their audience at a time, giving everyone a little something to hold on to whether it was real or not.
King was a master at speaking out of both sides of his mouth, and at least one other orifice, which is a time-honored tradition in negotiating racial boundaries. President Abraham Lincoln would preface his speeches about the abolition of slavery with declarations like: “There's no difference between a Nigger and a hog!” Once he got the audience on his side, he could then begin to lead them to serving a purpose greater than their own ignorance. The man known as “The Great Emancipator”, then spent his spare time seeking to buy lands to colonize Negroes in other countries . . . he wanted them to be free to get the hell up outta here.
King would speak to the White power structure about equality in the workplace and fair access to society then get around Negroes and start hitting buzzwords like reparations, quotas, set-asides, programs, Welfare, and boycotts. Behind the scenes, he clandestinely mapped out riot strategies. He would cloak his orations in flowery constitutional and biblical rhetoric that even he didn't buy into in order to shame others into following him against their better judgment.
His theatrics changed depending on the crowd. When he did his thing for White interest groups, he would rationally articulate his points then do some grip and grins. When he was playing to the Black party, he would do his fire and brimstone number then conclude by being so spent he needed help to his chair . . . ala James Brown . . . “The legend of Civil Rights, ladies and gentlemen; The legend of Civil Rights!” High theater, low drama.
Like Jesus, King's actions didn't often mirror his words. Jesus, this man who claimed to be a representative of peace, walked into the temple and violently overturned the cash registers; according to Matthew, He proclaimed that He would be the sword to divide mankind and tear families apart. Then He proclaimed Himself to be “King of the Jews”, thereby usurping the elected officials. King, the Nobel Peace Prize-winning minister of peace, who donned the role of “King of the Negroes”, in spite of the democratic government, orchestrated nonviolent marches as benign attacks on cities, which cost taxpayers money, closed down businesses and inevitably erupted in bloody violence . . . a calculated part of the strategy. Don't confuse nonviolent with peaceful. In fact these gatherings weren't even nonviolent.

King's organizers had their rabble-rousers put razor blades in their heels to grind up the streets, spew garbage everywhere and break what they could not steal; they were instructed to goad the police to intercede by committing petty infractions and to get hysterical when dealing with the fuzz to cause a scene. Once the fuse was lit, The K.ing K.oon K.lan had their game plan in place to execute the mayhem; they turned over the cars, smashed all the glass, roughed up innocent White bystanders then touched off the bonfire. When police and firefighters came to help, the snipers picked them off. To say that King had no knowledge these acts were being committed by his regime, is to say Hitler didn't know what was going on at Auschwitz.

Once the situation had dissolved into anarchy, the police and National Guard would roll out the hoses and pull out the batons then turn the dogs loose to repel the Negro incursion. By then the evening news was ready to air live to middle White America, so they could watch these marauding police and military forces violate and torture the poor Negroes who were only there to call for peace through equality . . . by any means necessary.

When it all blew sky high, the media would hunt down King, who had been whisked away from the scene of the crime . . . if he was even in the same state as his march. As the world hung on his response, he would stand before the cameras, with his practiced look of shock and rehearsed tone of outrage, and denounce the viwolance then accuse the racist White government and rival Negro organizations of creating the civil unrest to undermine his noble cause. Then, with a wink visible only to other Negroes, he would announce that he would stage a new march to illustrate the splendor of a nonviolent Negro movement . . . he would then close with a shucking sound bite sermon.
So when the King of the tribe targeted the city they would next plunge into siege, the politicians and legislators moved against him to protect their citizens and property and commerce from battle lines being formed in their community. While the congregation derisively sang spirituals, King would stand in the center of the racial upheaval he wrought, masquerading as a world ambassador for humanity, even though he was demanding the right to bring chaos to Main Street America one city at a time.
By design, King's tactics most negatively impacted poor working Whites, who would be further deprived of assistance and services from the government and private sector because of the lobby to set up exclusive programs to solely aid Negroes. Instead of speaking out against the government for this sleight, they railed against King and all he stood for, using racial epithets in anger, and thus hardworking poor Caucasians were branded: “White Trash”. King used these knights for White rights to show how much racism there was in America in order to get more funds for more Negro programs from wealthy and powerful Whites . . . a move that obscured the racism of Negroes. King's strategy was to divide and conquer by inviting the downtrodden Whites to join the march and rage against the White establishment, though they were not provided for in King's platform . . . they were used as sacrificial pawns for the cause of the great man who claimed to be working his mojo for ALL people of the struggle.
Like with Christians, when dealing with the words of Jesus, to question Dr. King's ideals or outlooks or to outright disagree with them or point out how they have failed Black and White interests for fifty years, is blasphemy and you will be persecuted to the full extent of injustice. Like with Christ, you're not supposed to evaluate King—you're supposed to believe in him. Of course, like with Christians, Negroes only demand that outsiders heed their King's every word, whereas they can skip over the parts they ain't feeling or the ones that require too much effort to achieve and especially the ones that call for them to take responsibility for the content of their deeds. Christ's words are used to denounce infidels far more often than they are used to uplift Christianity, the way King's Negroes use their Black icon to bash Caucasians over the skull, until we can't bear to hear his name or see his face or listen to his words. As it is for the worshipers of Christ, the followers of King pay lip service to his revered words and weep at his graven image, but they view those who actually live by his homilies as punks and sheep.
Like with Christ on Christmas, those who don't want to embrace King's memory on national Negro Day, are portrayed as devils. Opponents of “King Day” argued that it was not presented as an American holiday; it was brought forth as a Negro holiday and therefore should not be a federal holiday, since it only represents a minority of Americans . . . and a majority of violent criminals. “King Day” should be looked upon as a day of cultural recognition, as we do for St. Patrick's Day and Cinco De Mayo. Jews have many high holy days that are recognized by gentile America, but they are cultural observances and not American holidays. Everyone's got a mother and a father, and they each have a special day without closing the country down. Black History Month was established to shine a spotlight on the American Negro for a whole goddamned month, so enough already. Jeez!
There were also many policy makers and their constituency who noted that King's accomplishments were not greater than other Americans and American events that did not rate a three-day weekend tribute; others felt we already have too many paid holidays, which hurts smaller businesses. I mean let's go one for one--- get rid of “King Day” and Columbus Day.
To help make the big day palatable, some states pushed it as “Human Rights Day” or “Civil Rights Day”. In the South, they had an interesting combo of “General Robert E. Lee-General Stonewall Jackson-Doctor Martin Luther King Day”, so that everyone's racism could be celebrated.
Other states took to the high ground and fought against recognizing the holiday they dubbed: “Nigger Day”, because it was a racist holiday that denigrated Caucasians and was celebrated with Anti-American rallies while paying homage to Mutha Africa. For many, the idea of being forced to pay official homage to Negroes for a day is unacceptable, considering they're the ones turning this nation into a crime-infested ghetto. The holiday provides a forum for Negroes to call for race hate and blame Caucasians for their miserable culture and beg for pity handouts with threats of violence. When Arizona openly opposed the holiday, the thug Rap group Public Enemy paid tribute to Dr. King's memory by singing about assassinating Governor Fife Symington III.
The day is also official “Nigger Joke Day” to a multitude of Caucasians. “You know the difference between King Day and St. Patrick's Day? On St. Paddy's Day everyone wants to be a little Irish”

It is a day where we focus on the retched statistics of American Negro life; it gives us a three-day weekend to reflect on how much more advanced our society would be if we didn't have to go through life with the lazy four hundred pound gorilla of Black failure on our backs; it is a day of remembrance for a time before busing when public schools didn't need metal detectors; it conjures bittersweet nostalgia for the era before integration when you could walk the streets of your community after dark. For Caucasians, it is a day of infuriating depression as we watch the encroachment of the slums grow closer with every Civil Rights attack. Soon “King Day” will overtake Christmas Day for the highest rate of Caucasian suicides.
But after the turn of the 21st Century, all states were forced to adopt an official M.L.K. Day . . . even the ones flying Confederate Bonny Blue flags over their state and federal buildings and in front of their homes. King's powerful opponents decided to stop protesting and start profiting by commercializing the holiday to make money off Black consumers.
Look, if we absolutely, positively have to have a set aside day for Negroes then we should celebrate Juneteenth, because it recognizes the date slavery officially ended in America and commemorates both the slaves and the people who freed them. This way there is no need to build a false demigod to worship.
King was much more embraceable to White leaders in death, because he could then be manipulated into the Black man Big Brother wanted him to be. Instead of outing him for his ADULTERY, PLAGIARISM, HOMOSEXUALITY and DRUG USE they played up those handful of electrifying public moments he provided to use as the backdrop to their own message. Now that he was no longer around to espouse Anti-American Marxist propaganda, he could be made over into the patron saint for Negroes he never was in life.

After Bobby was taken out a couple of months later, King's memory was attached to the slain Kennedy brothers, so that he could be elevated to their ilk . . . if you speak of the assassinations of the Kennedys, Martin is always tacked on in the middle as a filler between the two.

With the ghosts of that hallowed trinity hovering over Civil Rights issues, all opposition and criticism of King's African-American dream just fell by the wayside, because it was considered denigrating to the memories of the triumvirate of martyrs, so deaf and dumb legislators blindly instituted every last one of King's dreamy programs even when they knew that they were destined for catastrophe. Negroes were given loans for businesses and education, regardless of their qualifications; test scores and standards were lowered for Negroes, so they could unfairly advance; the government brought forth “The Great Society” and there was Affirmative Action, set asides, Urban renewal, Fair Housing, Section 8, upgraded Welfare, forced integration, blockbusting, busing; a new universe of alphabet soup municipalities designed to aid and guide and service Negroes only . . . all courtesy of White legislators and White initiatives and White tax dollars and White donations and White endowments, without one iota of consideration for the interests or future of Whites.
Doctor King's dream came true, beyond his wildest dreams, as his cruel murder gave his people more than he ever hoped to gain. It would've been great if King's direction for his people had been correct and Negroes used the tools they were given to enfranchise themselves and built proud, peaceful and prosperous communities nationwide, where they network with each other in commerce and look out for each other as good neighbors and developed a culture where family is sacred and education is valued . . . what a wonderful world this would be. But, alas, his vision was blurred by the bright Whites that courted him and soon all he saw was his gilded reflection in their eyes.
It is clear King intentionally created a laundry list of demands he knew could never be processed, so he never contemplated if they would actually be a benefit or a detriment to his people or our nation; he merely basked in how wise he sounded spouting these droplets. He knew Americans would never accept programs that rewarded failure, promoted losers, excused crime, enabled illiteracy and gave people something for nothing . . . that's not the kind of Americanism that made this country great. He knew only too well that Negroes were not ready to be economically and socially responsible for their culture, so he could continue stumping for his programs forever, as if only he had the remedy to their ails and woes and the White massas were fighting him every step of the way, because we don't want Negroes to have the successes his plans would bring them . . . diabolically ingenious Blackman!
But a funny thing happened on the way to the promised land . . . Dr. King was executed. Now that his plans have been put into effect, they have been exposed as abject failures that have done nothing to better the situation for Negroes and everything to make conditions worse for Caucasians . . . on second thought, maybe King's master plan was successful after all; maybe his dream was not to advance the Negro, but to downgrade Caucasians. Blacks and Whites are at each other's throats like never before, which guarantees both sides will continue to invoke his name for very different reasons. When Caucasians speak of King, it is to urge Negroes to live up to his gold-plated memory. When Negroes call forth the name of King, they do so to cloak their despicable deeds in an aura of White racism. O.J. slashes the ex-wife and an innocent bystander then plays the King card; Whacko Jacko defiles little boys then plays the King card; Kobe Bryant rapes and sodomizes a woman then plays the King card; Bill Cosby is exposed as a womanizing adulterer with bastard children then plays the King card; Michael Vick gets his nut watching dogs shred each other to death then plays the King card . . . then there are all those garden variety Niggers with their violent pedestrian crimes that try to play the King of spades and find out that it's only a trump card for high profile Negroes with long bank and enough visibility for White liberals to play their King card.
When Negroes start talking about Dr. King, it is code to condemn Whites for not doing enough for them and, because of this, Blacks have diminished his status among Whites—much the way Christians have done for Jesus Christ, because they have persecuted tortured and murdered so many in His name. Despite being given every N-Box they asked for and more programs than they can shake a stick at, the Negro stands outside mainstream America with his empty pockets turned inside out wanting to know where his piece of the dream is . . . like it's supposed to be delivered to his door with a bow.
Here in Memphis, where the Civil Rights Museum stands to mark the spot where King was killed, many Black citizens will carry Christ and King in their hearts as they go forth to invade someone's home, carjack them or kill them . . . then the guilty Negro and his culture of accomplices will chant King slogans to accuse Whites for the high crimes and misdemeanors of all Negroes and beg forgiveness and release in the name of Jesus. This is The King Doctrine.
On the night of King's tragic murder, Negroes in over one hundred cities went forth to honor his peaceful platform by burning and looting and killing to punish all White people for the actions of one White person . . . and to get free stuff. Then the poor Memphians had to watch Mrs. King and her court lead a march of mourners down their decimated streets and act like the city deserved to be crushed because they were all equally to blame. When the South Central Los Angeles Negroes sparked the riots after the Rodney King verdict, the looting, burning and killing added another bloody page to the Civil Rights chapter. In the wake of the devastation, while processions for the slain officers and firefighters were marching along under smoky skies, as National Guard patrolled streets drenched in ashes and glass, while businessmen stood over the ruination of all they worked for, while families huddled in hospitals and mortuaries tending to their loved ones, a Negro journalist in L.A. wrote: “It is always a man named King who affects the greatest advancement for the Civil Rights cause.” Obviously there are less degrees of separation between Marty King and Rodney King than we can count.

Now at first I analyzed all this and concluded that these Negroes had shun the philosophies of Doctor King and disgraced all he stood for by their horrid behavior. But, upon further review, it strikes me that this is indeed the root of King's Final Solution for Whitey. In order to bring down a more powerful enemy, you must first cripple them before you can take them out . . . and make no mistake that King considered us the enemy of his people; he just didn't have the balls to say it loud and proud the way Malcolm “X” Little did. This alleged man of enlightenment had the audacity to refer to the entire Caucasian race as "Former slave masters", even though only 5% of America ever owned a slave; but he admonished Whites not to refer to the Negro race as Niggers, because there were a few good ones.
So how does a minority enslave a majority? Quite simply, actually. If I take a dump on your living room floor and refuse to clean it up, you will become my lackey out of preservation. Since Negroes represent 12% of the country, they naturally pay far less taxes. Factor in that many of them do not work, or make their living by illegal activities, so they pay no taxes at all, then add in that many Blacks work at and about poverty level, Whites end up paying over 85% of our American tax dollars, even though we make up under 70% of the country. So all they have to do is make menace and we will have to bear the burden . . . Welfare, busing, prisons, courts, sanitation, police, military, schools . . . all institutions Negroes abuse in order to confound and demoralize Caucasians. Hail to King!
What a proud moment it must have been for Father King looking in from his perch as Brutha Rodney baited the cops by driving fast and drunk then escalated the moment with a high speed chase and took it to the next level by lunging at police, before finally getting the beat down he deserved . . . for which this drug seeking thieving Nigger gained international fame and millions of dollars. The King Way.
Civil Rights, as instituted, has not brought us to “The Mountain Top”, it is dragging us into a black hole of no return. So if we are to find any value in revisiting the life and times and message of Reverend King, we must do so to uncover the suggestions and proposals offered by his opposition, before they are historically obscured. Let's look at all the original Negro stimulus packages that rewarded individuals for performance; initiatives that motivated Negroes, like matching funds. What about accepting the “separate but equal” notion of race relations and asking for renovations rather than reparations—I mean we're willing to do anything it takes to help Negroes build a neighborhood they will not abandon, except buy them all a Cadillac and give them a free condo for life.
When it comes to American legislation, only the disaster of Prohibition comes close to rivaling the destruction of the Civil Rights idiotology. In another forty years, this country will be twice as Black, which means they'll have twice the resources and rhetoric to assail Caucasians with and commit twice the crimes and be twice the drain on society they are now . . . our grandkids and their kids will live in the reality of our making, so we must act now to save them from an American Hell on Earth. Civil Rights, in all its forms, must be appealed, abolished, stamped out and it must be done without delay, before it's too late and our country is indelibly desecrated by the mark of King.
This artificial holiday spirit keeps them stuck in a loop of selectively repeating King's words as if they had anything to do with the Uncivil Rights Movement of Negroes today. The more King's words are accepted as definitive, the longer it will take for Negroes to advance.
So the most symbolic first step we must take to rally hope for a brighter future, is to repeal Martin Luther King Day to protect our lineage from the world envisioned by Dr. King, where nonviolence is permissibly used as a weapon to destroy the White American Male.

NOW READ . . .
I HATE NIGGERZ!

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LISTEN TO THE KINGPIN!
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JERRY WESTLUND IS A JERK!

2008-04-04T05:47:00.014-04:00

THE KINGPIN

vs.

THE KOOL AID MAN

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

And so begins my legal odyssey against strip club entrepreneur Charles G. “Jerry” Westlund, Jr., a.k.a. THE KOOL AID MAN, a derisive term used behind his back by the dancers that refers to his appearance. In the real world, he's got that whole Tom Arnold thing going . . . the way he bounces from foot to foot like he needs to make wee wee. I have never seen females humor a man the way they humor Westlund, a geekboy who uses his wallet to play Alpha-Male. As a fellow Jew from the L.A. strip club scene, I thought he'd do me better than this.

I have been in touch with Michael Erskine of The Commercial Appeal, verifying that Westlund illegally lives in the complex of suites located at 631 Madison Avenue, behind Downtown Dolls, located in the former Club 616 building on Marshall, in the part of the city known as "The Edge". Westlund, his general manager with his baby momma and two babies, a manservant, and visiting XXX Porn features all live and party in the compound that is zoned for commercial use only . . . I describe it as "Part den of iniquity, part day care center". Locally, Westlund is the owner of The Pony, Black Tail, Downtown Dolls and part owner of The Jet Strip, along with clubs in Los Angeles, South Carolina, Missouri and, Illinois.
After the December 16, 2007 article DOLLS STILL OPEN DESPITE LAWSUITS, I agreed to allow Mr. Erskine to break my story in The Appeal, as a matter of courtesy on the former story which he launched. They are now on the clock . . .
In January, Mr. Erskine said that his editor required I actually file suit before they could print the story of my claim of Workplace Discrimination against Westlund, for firing me, because I would not look the other way while the dancers performed oral sex, manual relief and straight sex in The VIP Room at The Pony. I have, as of April 2, 2008, complied with their request and service of Westlund is imminent. I will now provide The Commercial Appeal the opportunity of taking my story public first, so long as they are willing to do it justice in my eyes. This story is much bigger than Memphis, as strip clubs are a scourge nationwide, because of the criminal element that it attracts and the violent mix of cocktails and strippers . . . especially the clubs in urban centers. I seek to lend my years of insight into the problem, in order to preserve our strip club heritage for generations yet unborn.
Now for those of you who know me, and for those of you who don't just cruise my website, this may seem like an odd stance for me to take; particularly for a man who is an avowed hedonist and defender of personal choice. But this has nothing to do with taking away rights; this is about defending the rights of employees in the workplace.
Now, like it or not, a strip club is a legal venue and a place of business where people go to work for an employer and therefore is subject to workplace standards, concerning discrimination, harassment, activities and protection. Even though sex is not illegal, you can't fuck on your desk at work. If an employer violates the law, by allowing employees to break the law, he puts his innocent employees at risk of being arrested and jeopardizes the business and the industry and everyone suffers when they get shut down.
Here in Memphis, The Platinum Plus rained money every night, because the management looked the other way for a fee while the dancers turned tricks in the VIP Lounge. I was working at Christie's Cabaret when Platinum closed, and the customers were so disillusioned when all they could get was a lap dance in the VIP. Allowing the chicks to trick was a shortsighted plan, because now no one makes money there anymore. When Platinum closed, The Pony was limping along with few women and a small customer base. So Westlund brought them all over to The Pony, which he advertises as “The New Platinum” . . . an obvious code that they give action like the Old Platinum.
I have no problem with hookers or the concept of prostitution, but it must be kept out of the workplace. If a few girls are bobbing knobs and knocking back quickies in the VIP Lounge, it is not fair to the majority of dancers who come there to dance on stage and do lap dances, per their job description. They can't make money if other females offer more than is allowable . . . it's cheating. Plus, it forces the others to engage in these acts in order to make their ends meet.
Being in a cash daily business is a competitive grind and one bad night or two can do you in, so the playing field must be level. In all my years as a deejay and a manager in Hollywood and here in Memphis, I always gave every dancer their fair share and never took bribes to put females up out of turn or leave them off stage or let them do some guy even if they tipped me better than other dancers or were one of my soirée ladies . . . just ask them and they'll tell you. I live for integrity.
When I was promoted to manager at The Pony to work the VIP Lounge, I would not allow dancers to turn tricks and when I continued to send them to the upper management and nothing was done, I was the problem and on that basis they fired me.

Only a week before, they were promoting me to assistant manager of their new location in East Cape Girardeau, Illinois, where I would take over as lead manager when the manager, Blake, a former manager at Platinum Plus, moved on. I worked a weekend there as deejay, and Blake told me that since the club was out in sticks they could get away with allowing the girls to “whatever” in the VIP Lounge. When I told Westlund that this was a mistake and that Blake would get the club closed like he did Platinum, I was fired, two days later, costing me a $50,000 per year gig. It is on this basis that I have filed this lawsuit under Whistle Blower's Law.

WHISTLE BLOWER'S LAW: An Employer may not take any reprisal against an employee that advises the employer that the business is in violation of a law and the employee either discloses, threatens to disclose or testifies about the violation of the law, or the employee objects or refuses to participate in an employment act in violation of the law. This law may be found at Tennessee Revised Statutes Title 50-1-304

www.state.tn.us/labor-wfd/lsques.html

I do not undertake this lawsuit with any belief that it will pay off; in fact it will cost me my livelihood, after 30 legendary years in the industry rocking the mike and the ladies like no other. I will now be a pariah, the proverbial “Deep Throat” of the strip club world. . . only I will voice my testimony in public on Front Street for a greater good than my own sense of vengeance or justice or image, to shine the spotlight on the dark auspices of the industry in order to save it from itself, because of owners like Westlund.

He and his powerhouse attorney Edward Bearmann will hit me with motion after motion then appeal any judgement in my favor for many moons, but I ain't backing up. I can't get any of the crusading discrimination lawyers in town to touch this case on contingency, because they do not wish to be viewed as “Pro Strip Club”. But since I am much higher on the intellectual food chain than an attorney, I'll be fine going forward on my own and I will go forward for as long as I can . . . if for no other reason than to hear Westlund testify that he runs a clean club even though he has hired the dirtiest managers in the business to run it.

At the time I was employed, through October 2007, 3 of the 5 night managers were from Lunati owned defunct clubs, and both managers of his out of town area clubs had Lunati managers . . . after I was fired, another former Lunati manager was hired in my place to “manage” the VIP lounge making it 4 out of 5. It must've been like returning to the scene of the crime, when all the managers and all their hookers reunited with their customers at The Pony.

The drones on the city council, here and nationwide, focus on the immorality of the strip clubs, they call for upholding religious values and societal mores and they are shot down in one word . . . FREEDOM. There should not be laws in a strip club; we know we have lost all touch with reality when we arrest strippers for indecent exposure in a strip club. Here in the carjacking/murder capital of Memphrica, we certainly do not need police deployed in strip clubs and focusing tax dollars on sting operations in the VIP Lounge in a city where too many school kids don't have seats or books. The strip clubs have their own simple code that supersedes any law . . . NO penetration of the dancer and NO exposure of the male. That's it! The rest falls under the heading of MIND YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS! Most dancers abide by this code . . . if it is enforced by the management.

What would be more useful in these matters is to monitor the strip clubs from inflicting themselves on society and initiating rules to protect the industry from getting greedy and scandalous.
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Strip clubs should not be allowed to advertise in the newspapers when it is important to make kids socially aware by reading the paper. An article about strip clubs is socially responsible, but gratuitous ads with erotic overtones and scantily clad ladies are wholly unsuitable for minors. These newspapers savage the strip club industry on moral grounds and call themselves "family newspapers" then sell them big giant honking running ads . . . reaching a level of hypocrisy rivaled only by religion.

Strip clubs should not be able to put up billboards with suggestive slogans or females erotically posed. This forces parents to have conversations with children they may not be ready to have. Head shots only of females, the name of the business and its location and the slogan “a gentleman's club” is all that needs to be publicly displayed . . . we get it.
The same rule applies to these mobile advertisements wrapped around vehicles. The Pony has theirs on the side of a moving van. There is nowhere to hide when they go rolling through town. It's also bad business to piss off the community you're seeking to cultivate. A guy may want to go to a strip club, but wouldn't want his children or his wife to have these ads waved in their faces.
The strip clubs should not have blatantly sexual names or signs outside promoting erotica. They should all ONLY have a sign that reads “a gentleman's club”. While it is ludicrous to say that a woman showcasing her beauty for men for money is demeaning to all women, since it involves no other woman but the dancer, it is denigrating to see clubs with signs that refer to women like slabs of beef seved up for money.
There should not be signs announcing XXX porn stars with their salacious screen names. These signs are in full public view and it is impossible to put blinders on minors. These signs represent an unsuitable public presentation of females, because it has no context. It can be damaging to the psyche of young females who will judge their beauty and sexuality compared to the image of the strippers. The objectifying ads will also impede young males from respecting females individually, because they haven't gained the experience or the maturity to realize that not all females are tattooed tramps that you have to financially haggle with in a dark corner of a seamy night club in order to get some action.
Inside the club, there should not be secluded, guarded VIP areas, because that level of privacy creates an opportunity for prostitution. Take down the curtains and have the lap dances in full view of the club, so there is no intercourse and oral sex going on.

These rules are not about restricting the personal freedoms of some; it is about protecting the rights of those who don't want to have to deal with it. While it is true that no one has ever been brought to a strip club at gunpoint and forced to watch the stripping women, these overt advertisements bring elements of the strip club into people's lives against their will. With every right comes an equal responsibility. You are free to smoke all you want, but you cannot exhale in my presence because it takes way my right not to smoke.

Westlund has an extensive arrest record for political tampering, embezzling, fraud, forgery and tax evasion from his days as a player in the Card Club. Though he allegedly skimmed over $350,000 and scammed people on real estate deals in the millions, he managed to buy his way out of most of these charges, because the prestigious Bicycle Club did not want the negative publicity their association with him would bring.
But he took a collar for tax evasion and had to do 2000 hours community service and serve 7 years probation. It is not clear if he lied on his application for a license in Memphis or revealed that he was still on probation when he applied. He lied on his application in Lubbock, Texas and they closed his club down and ran his ass out of town. Perhaps this is the loophole they need to hang this charlatan .

I will make myself available to the vapid City Council that is grappling with the strip club situation with no clue as to how they can control the action. No one is going to buy a lap dance from a girl who has to stand six feet away, so no one is going to abide by such an arbitrary ruling. These are not laws, we're talking about; they are manmade violations, that should not be respected. No man ever called the cops to complain that he received an erotic lap dance against his will, so keep the law out of it. The council must realize that they can only take control of how a strip club impacts a community from the outside, because on the inside it is not their concern, unless someone breaks a law . . . like prostitution.
I tried to get all the GMs talking, so when a dancer robbed a customer or turned a trick, she would get blackballed, so that we weren't passing trash back and forth. In LA we had that kind of mutual cooperation, because we understood that we were each responsible to maintain the industry for our own good. These GMs must be forced to the table to take responsibility for the dancers they hire.

Despite being a big money guy, I feel sorry for Westlund, who is a pathetic caricature of a Vegas pit boss. He spends fortunes to get into places where he is not welcome and they gladly take his money then shun him. In 2007, he paid $70,000.00 to enter the Toyota Pro/Celebrity Race at the Long Beach Grand Prix---his hometown where he is reviled. The local papers took great pleasure in calling him “The Uncelebrity” of the race.
In spite of all his tummy tucks, lipposuction and plastic surgery, he is still a self loathing blob that can't bear the sight of himself, so he tries to dazzle people with his wallet, without ever scraping up enough to buy their freindship, their love or even their respect. The people that work for him and live with him have never uttered a kind word about him . . . because he hasn't earned it. Jerry pays people money so they will take his abuse; he wants them to feel as bad about themselves as he feels about himself. And they loathe him for it.
He is too insecure to make friends with people who have intellect or personality, so he surrounds himself with lackluster fops that are nod men. He's so insecure about his sexuality and his endowment that he actually became jealous over his heroin addict manservant dating ladies from the club. In order to keep his job, he agreed to only have sex with the Black women Jerry avoids.
In the club, Westlund trolls for blow jobs, shoves his hand into girl's thongs and tells them that they're bitches who aren't worth shit . . . payback for all the women that left him spraying his sheets as a lonely teen, before he got enough money to pay for their pleasure. Men like this feel better about themselves when they mistreat women, so they don't feel like such losers for being rejected and needing to pay for play. That's why they call him "The Kool Aid Man" and they call me "The Kingpin".

I make it clear that Westlund's style is not par for the course. I deejayed in clubs for 20 years in LA without getting closed down by the law and the family that I worked for are still in business. When a chick gets popped there, she's out of the business for good no matter what kind of porn credits she has or how beautiful she is. Most owners know that you stay in business by playing it straight . . . the same goes for the dancers. Steve Cooper doesn't tolerate any form of prostitution in his clubs and the managers know it. They do integrity tests and try to set you up to take bribes using managers and dancers and if you bite your ass is gone. That's why he stays in business without all the fines. Cooper saw how Danny Owens ruined his club and then his old pal Ralph Lunati, who is in currently in prison for turning his club into a brothel/drug den, went down in flames. Westlund is trying to play the role of big shot and like Owens and Lunati he has put himself at the top of the hit list . . . it won't be too long before he gets taken down and The Pony is a Chinese Food Restaurant.
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NOW READ THE STORIES I SENT TO MICHAEL ERSKINE AT THE COMMERCIAL APPEAL IN ALL THEIR TAWDRY GLORY, UNCUT AND UNCENSORED . . .
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BITTER SUITES BEHIND DOLLS
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TALES FROM THE VIP LOUNGE
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WESTLUND: THE MAN & HIS STRIP CLUBS
*******
Listen to The Kingpin
TALKIN SEX WITH THE LADIES

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Visit THE GIFT SHOP to purchase stylewear and items with unique designs and original isms created by THE KINGPIN
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JERRY WESTLUND IS A CROOK!

2008-04-04T05:33:00.010-04:00

BITTER SUITES BEHIND DOLLS
written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

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I wrote this to Michael Erskine at
The Commercial Appeal in a familiar journalistic format.
Because of the self imposed limitations of their newspaper they will not be able to run certain elements of this story which are germain to the plot, so this is the unvarnished version.
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On December 16, 2007, The Commercial Appeal, in Memphis, carried the article: DOLLS IS STILL OPEN DESPITE LAWSUITS, reporting on the pending cases against Charles G. “Jerry” Westlund, Jr. owner of Downtown Dolls, a strip club located a hop, skip, and a jump from fabled Sun Studios and across the street from the original Heartbreak Hotel, over in the part of town known as “The Edge”. The article detailed the practices and attitudes of the dancers who routinely break the law in order to make money, as well as the many legal obstacles the club faces, because of prior arrests of strippers made on the premises for acts of prostitution and drug sales, as well as their ongoing court battle to receive a topless permit from the city.

Notably, the club is being investigated for a host of zoning violations; they have citations pending for improper use of the property and not obtaining a permit for their exterior lights.The Appeal also ran a photograph of the row of rooms, located off an alley in back of Dolls, behind a locked, razor wire fence and, along with the city-county Office of Construction Code Enforcement, wondered what purpose they served, since there is only supposed to be a warehouse there.

It turns out that Westlund has been living there illegally with several employees. This is an exclusive account of what the scene is like in the private suites from a former employee and it is more lurid than previously speculated. According to this insider's account, the facility is nothing less than a “part den of iniquity part day care center”.

This is the first in a sensational three-part series that takes an in depth, unvarnished, behind the scenes look at the activities in the club and the man in charge; it is a story of greed, depravity, lawlessness, obsession and the worst kind of neglect. Though be advised that these articles provide a graphic up close portrait of how strip clubs operate and the rules that the management and dancers play by when deciding which erotic acts are acceptable whether they are permitted by law or not, so it may not be suitable for all readers.

These firsthand revelations come from The Kingpin Thorne Peters, an author and talk radio show host, living in Memphis since 1998, who spent twenty years emceeing in Hollywood's exotic dance clubs, beginning in 1978. After eight years out of the business, he went to work briefly at Christie's Cabaret for Steve Copper in October 2006 then for Westlund from January-October 2007 between The Pony and Downtown Dolls as a manager and deejay.

Kingpin was fired in October 2007 without being given a reason, but claims it was because he constantly warned the owner, and Miguel, the general manager of Westlund's Mid South operations, that girls were performing oral copulation and straight sex in the V.I.P. Lounge. His concern was that they were going to get closed down like Platinum Plus did if they didn't put a stop to it, by getting rid of the girls that were chronic offenders.

“Our inalienable, undeniable right to consent must be upheld in the name of freedom, otherwise democracy is a dictatorship by vote,” Kingpin proclaims. “But there is a time and place for everything and a strip club is for lap dancing not for sex.”

By law, an employer cannot fire an employee for complaining about illegal practices in the workplace and Kingpin has filed a Whistleblower Retaliation suit against Westlund.

“If a person works at a sewage treatment plant,” Kingpin parallels, “and they complain to management that the waste is being improperly disposed of, which creates a hazard to the community and threatens their job security, an employer is not allowed to fire the employee on that basis . . . especially when that employee is among the very best in the business by all accounts.”

Kingpin is an avowed hedonist and defender of personal choice, but believes that the practices Westlund and the management allow in the club crosses a line. It is on this basis that he has come forward to speak out on the record, hoping it will change the current trend and save the industry from owners who jeopardize the jobs of employees and dancers by allowing unlawful acts of carnal knowledge to take place on the premises for the extra revenue.

When asked about his unlikely role as the voice of moral reason Kingpin growls, “This isn't about morality; it's about maintaining a level playing field in the workplace. If some dancers do more than the law allows the customers will line up for them and everyone loses money . . . if she gets busted we can lose our jobs or get arrested.”

Kingpin surmises that the corruption starts at the top. “Guys like Westlund, and (Ralph) Lunati, and (Danny) Owens before them, want to play Mafia Don,” Kingpin disseminates. “They get on a power trip, because they can call forth one of their 'special' dancers for their 'special' customers and allow her to provide him with her 'special' services with a royal snap of the fingers . . . for a 'special' fee.”

On this and previous occasions, Westlund has refused comment on the many and varied charges and accusations leveled against him, but through his attorney, Edward Bearman, maintains that he does not allow acts of prostitution or any other sexual violation to take place at his clubs.

However Kingpin insists that Westlund routinely sets up private parties for customers at Dolls behind closed doors in the bowels of the club during and after business hours. “Westlund really only keeps Downtown Dolls open so he can do his down and dirty business in the nooks and crannies,” Kingpin charges. “That place often does its best business after it closes.”

To back it up he offers this observation as proof. “On the surface, that club makes as much in a given month as The Pony makes in a good night—not a great one. The club can't even pay for it's alcohol order and overhead; he's supposedly behind in his note on the club; (to former owner Ralph Lunati) they've closed two nights a week and stopped paying the deejay; some nights there's no security. That location does not attract the money set and since the club can't get a topless license it can't hold a crowd or quality dancers. So why would anyone keep a business open that loses money every night unless it had hidden value?”

Downtown Dolls operates the strip club in the middle of three connected buildings, all owned by Westlund, at 600 Marshall Avenue. The Tenderloin Steakhouse sign is outside the north building, where the entrance to Club Six-1-Six used to be, and the Off Beale sign is outside the south building. Kingpin provides an inside diagram of the place.

“Below Dolls, there is a basement filled with mannequins, discarded arcade games, stacks of furniture and piles of fixtures that is nearly the same size as the entire upper floor . . . it's a haven for rodents. The north room is where the booths are set up for lap dances and the south room is an unused two story hall with a raised stage and a warped dance floor. Throughout the south building, there are small rooms and and even an upstairs sky box that looks down on the empty stage, but that whole side is a dusty cavern in total disarray, with a broken down bar, rickety furniture and creaky stairs . . . it has all the charm of a condemned building. Customers or dancers are not permitted on that side without express permission, which can only come from Westlund or Miguel.”

One night, Kingpin says Westlund called him from The Pony and told him to prepare a “private party” for Stromile Swift, a player then on the Memphis Grizzlies, and his entourage, in the secluded south building. “I called back the 'Kool Aid Man' (a nickname for Westlund used behind his back by dancers and employees that refers to his appearance) to let him know the place had been dusted off. In twenty minutes the guys rolled up in Westlund's personal limo, with a half dozen girls in The Pony truck right behind them,” Kingpin chronicles. “During the night I would go back and forth to check on them . . . some of the girls were in the back rooms with the guys, others were fooling around in corners, but they had carte blanche to do whatever they wanted and the girls would allow . . . none of it was legal in that venue.”

Kingpin says Swift was not having sexual intercourse on the premises with the Las Vegas feature dancer, called SEXXY CJ, that Westlund delivered to him, but engaged her in erotic acts of foreplay that are illegal inside a strip club. Later on they left together. Kingpin also testifies that the owner and general manager were present at least some of the time during the soirée.

“Westlund and Miguel came by later while some of the guys were in the back doing their thing . . . you could hear the sex echoing off the walls and we all made comments and guffaws, so there was no mystery.”

Though Kingpin has no proof that money changed hands for this illegal event, he has a theory. “It seems to me the girls weren't doing it out of the goodness of their hearts, and Westlund isn't in the charity business, so someone was paying someone for something.” Kingpin underscores that this was not the first nor last evening of its kind condoned by Westlund and or Miguel that was hosted in the south building for customers with profile or money.

So if Kingpin is so pro choice and is not coming forward to be a tattletale, why tell this story for the record? “If those money guys came into the club and tipped on stage and got lap dances, fair and square, the girls on the shift would have made money and then they would have had tip out for me,” Kingpin reasons. “Instead it was just another slow night, because our best customers were being serviced out of bounds.”

Just off the beaten path in Westlund's exotic dance world, accessible through the basement at Dolls, and off a back alley behind the club, is the complex of rooms at 631 Madison that are officially listed as a warehouse, though, from the picture posted in the December 16 Commercial Appeal article, it appears to have some homey touches, which is curious to inspectors who have been unable to gain entry onto the compound through the razor wired gate off Madison. There have been no requests for construction permits filed with the city-county Office of Construction Code Enforcement in years, but, according to Kingpin, the sheds out back have been gutted and remodeled into luxury suites that are, in fact, Westlund's home away from his California home.

“Westlund didn't come to Memphis much at first, so he would stay in hotels and bring dancers and V.I.P.s to his upstairs suite at The Pony to mess around,” Kingpin cites. “But after Platinum closed, The Pony became the cash cow of his empire and he started hanging around Memphis more, so they turned the warehouses behind Dolls into his home and party headquarters.”

In March 2007, when a citizen reported the improper doors being installed, inspectors visited the property but found no evidence of construction in progress. They were told that it was only a storage facility. Kingpin contends that Westlund waited for the inspectors to end their investigation then had nonunion, unlicensed workers going around the clock so he could move into his luxury suite by June 1, 2007 which was accomplished.

“Westlund told us that if we were officially asked about the 'Fab Suites', as he calls them, (a term that references his self aggrandizing moniker, 'Mr. Fabulous') to say they were used for storage of art and furniture, but to never let on that anyone lives back there, because of property tax, insurance and zoning issues . . . further jeopardizing the club and our jobs.”

Westlund has evidently set himself up in fine style back there by Kingpin's standards. “It's really lavish and well appointed, in a chintzy way; we'd round up girls after shift and party in the jacuzzi when they were still building the place and Westlund was away . . . his room is about 2,500 square feet alone.”

When asked if the place was used by Westlund for prostitution, Kingpin airily responds, “Well, can you define prostitution? When the XXX-rated features come to town they stay in a special suite back there—the one with the Christmas wreath on the door in the photo—and part of their fee to come to town is to service Westlund. Other times Westlund and a group of his high end customers pull up in the limo caravan with a gaggle of hot young women from the club and party the night away. Now I can't say what motivates those sweet young things to party all night with those tubby old dudes, or what reason Westlund would have for wanting to share his digs and babes with a bunch of guys, but if I had to take a good guess I bet I'd get it right.”

Kingpin says that Westlund goes out of his way to ingratiate himself with celebrities, because he is desperate to launch a reality T.V. show based on his life, which has been in limbo with HBO Productions for two years. He feels that offering high profile people action with a lady in his hospitality suite puts him in the fast lane.

“The 3-6 Mafia guys are at the club a lot and they go back there to party . . . instead of staying upstairs and tipping. In October, he had 'Slash' from Guns & Roses back there and Westlund acted like he had invented cool because he had hooked up a rock star with a stripper . . . if all he could have hoped for was a lap dance, Slash would have stayed in the club tipping instead of partying back at Westlund's.”

Sadly, the story takes a truly deplorable turn beyond any issues of personal freedom, as it claims innocent victims that are exposed to this unsavory lifestyle, which often carries over from the stage into their personal lives . . . and their children's. Kingpin reveals that Westlund is not the only resident back there. His general manager, Miguel, lives in an annex with Jewel, the stripper he has fathered two children with in barely two years. Kingpin fears the environment back there might not be conducive to child rearing.

“Westlund is one of those high school losers that never made it with the ladies, until he got the bank to rent them,” Kingpin sums up. “I don't hold it against him for being a kid in a candy store in the strip club . . . but they need to make sure that there are no babies at the scene of the tart parties that rage on till the dawn back there with people doing and taking whatever they're into for kicks.”

Kingpin tells us that also residing in the labyrinth of the club is Kyle, who he describes as a recovering heroin addict still struggling with alcoholism who acts as Westlund's manservant. Along with his work for Westlund and the club, Kingpin has also seen Kyle pull babysitting duty.

“Miguel would call from The Pony and want us to check if Kyle was drinking —which he always is—and Miguel would come cuss him out in the middle of the club. Yet he would entrust his baby to Kyle knowing he was tanked. Many times Kyle would just go back and forth to check on the baby downstairs, because he was working the door or security and Jewel would be in and out and Miguel would be out and about . . . now there's two babies back there and soon Jewel, 'The Puerto Rican Princess', as she's known on stage, will be back working it at The Pony.”

Along with his knowledge of the happenings in the back suites, Kingpin witnessed dangerous behavior that jeopardized Miguel and Jewel's recent baby before birth that was allowed to take place in the club.

“I was appalled when Jewel would drop into Dolls from downstairs when she got bored and sit at the bar drinking and smoking,” Kingpin seethes. “The music is bumping so loud in there it scrambles your brain, let alone a womb with a baby in it. I know there's a law out there somewhere that protects a baby from a mother so selfish that she can't put down her vices to secure its health . . . I just hope those were the only vices she was indulging during her pregnancy.”

Kingpin spoke to Jewel, Miguel and Westlund about her habit of hanging out at the Doll's bar in her delicate condition, but they were insulted that he brought it up, and that's when he feels the fallout between them began.

“Once again, my only concern is what is good and what is bad for business,” Kingpin decrees. “When customers and dancers alike are making outraged comments about some pregnant barfly drinking, smoking and erotically nuzzling other strippers, I wanted to run her off. But since she was Miguel's old lady, she was beyond my orders, so like everyone else I had to sit there helplessly watching her puffing and chugging her baby's health away . . . regrettably she had a difficult pregnancy and complications, so let's hope that child does not have severe or permanent damage . . . no thanks to her.”

As stunning and as pathetic as this portion of the story has been, it becomes even seamier as we go inside the club for a front row seat in the V.I.P. Lounge, as The Kingpin Thorne Peters divulges the level of acceptable and unacceptable sexual behavior being performed at The Pony, where he was in charge of managing the erotic activity between dancer and customer using his own set of rules more so than the conventional laws that are enforced by police.

But even his support of certain illegal acts that are committed time and time again pale in comparison to the illegal activities between dancers and customers Kingpin claims is being encouraged and ignored by the owner and the general manager in their desperate attempt to be the new Platinum Plus . . . even planning to rename Downtown Dolls, Platinum Dolls if they ever get a topless license.

The more Kingpin complained to them that they were going to end up just like Platinum Plus, the less secure his position became until he feels they wrongfully took his job. “The managers that allow the girls to commit the worst offenses are still there running the show,” Kingpin points out, “and if someone doesn't do something to stop them from feeding their greed, another club will go under and there will be a whole lot of people out of work and a whole lot of baby mommas going on welfare and a whole lot more heat on the next club, so we have to make sure that the owners and management find the integrity to monitor the dancers without taking bribes to look the other way so they don't sellout another club for the price of an illegal lap dance . . . then maybe these morals crusaders here in the C.O.G.I.C./carjacking capitol will focus on crimes where there is a victim that can't be saved because the cops are at the strip club fighting the war against lap dances.”

***********

NOW READ . . .
THE KINGPIN vs THE KOOL AID MAN
*******

TALES FROM THE VIP LOUNGE
*******

WESTLUND: THE MAN & HIS STRIP CLUBS
*******

Listen to The Kingpin

TALKIN SEX WITH THE LADIES
*******

Visit THE GIFT SHOP to purchase stylewear and items with unique designs and original isms created by THE KINGPIN
*******

Minors and prudes are not welcome . . .

JERRY WESTLUND IS A LIMP DICK!

2008-04-04T04:45:00.012-04:00

LAP DANCING . . . It's not sex, but it's an incredible simulation!

TALES FROM THE V.I.P. LOUNGE

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

*******

I wrote this to Michael Erskine at
The Commercial Appeal in a familiar journalistic format.
Because of the self imposed limitations of their newspaper, they will not be able to run certain elements of this story which are germain to the plot, so this is the unvarnished version.
*******

This is the second installment in a three-part series that began with: BITTER SUITES BEHIND DOLLS, based on the revelations of The Kingpin Thorne Peters, an author and talk radio show host living in Memphis who was an emcee in Hollywood's exotic dance clubs for twenty years, beginning in 1978. Kingpin worked as a manager and deejay at The Pony and Downtown Dolls for ten months, before being fired in October 2007 without being given a reason. Kingpin believes that it was because he was not on board with what he accuses is the company's policy of allowing dancers to commit sex acts in the club. Out of concern that the club would get closed down, Kingpin continually brought the illegal acts of the dancers to the attention of the owner and general manager and he claims it cost him his job. He has filed a workplace discrimination suit on this premise.
“You may object to the work being done there,” his attorney, Gene Bell, concedes, “but strip clubs are lawful enterprises and the employees are taxpaying citizens who have the expectation of fair treatment in the workplace from their employers. Under Tennessee law, it is unlawful for an employer to fire an employee for reporting an illegal act and refusing to participate. It's called 'Whistleblower Retaliation'.”
These articles graphically provide firsthand accounts of seamy illegal sexual behavior between dancers and customers and alleges complicity by the owner and management, so be advised that it may not be suitable for all readers. We feel this story is important for concerned citizens, so they will have the needed information to make an informed opinion about the operations in the strip club industry.
Despite Westlund's repeated denials, through his attorney, Edward Bearman, of allowing illegal sexual activities to go in the club, Kingpin flatly contradicts this statement with allegations that outright prostitution was committed with Westlund's blessings at Dolls, for high profile, big money customers. Kingpin figures that Dolls remains open in spite of losing money on the hour, because the secluded location allows Westlund to provide 'special' private parties for his 'special' customers for 'special' fees.
In our previous story, Kingpin spoke of a particular session involving Stromile Swift of the N.B.A., formerly with the Memphis Grizzlies. He and his boys were given access to a deserted area of the club and provided with women for illicit and illegal sexual activity by Westlund personally. Also identified as visitors to the back alley suites were 3-6 Mafia members and Slash from Gun's & Roses, along with many local professionals.
But along with those specific acts of illegal sexual misconduct, Kingpin maintains that there are constant violations going on in the V.I.P. Lounge that need to be eliminated for the good of the industry. While he makes it clear that he supports an adult's right to choose their consensual behavior, and exclaims that police should not waste time and tax dollars in strip clubs, he demands that strip clubs enforce their own set of rules.

“It's not about obeying the unjust laws,” Kingpin relates. “It's about THE CODE: 'NO penetration of the female and NO exposure of the male.' The so-called 'illegal' fondling and suckling and flashing that goes on in the V.I.P. Lounge during topless lap dances in thongs, is all in the game—it's what the customers pay for and I'm all for it. But if one girl is doing oral sex or giving manual relief or having straight sex, the business suffers down the line. If a few females are breaking the code, all the customers will wait in line for their services and the other ladies won't have tip out for the deejay, security, management and house, so the code must be enforced!”
During his months managing the V.I.P. Lounge, Kingpin caught many women breaking "The Code". “I snatched up girls who were face down in some guy's lap performing oral sex or being digitally penetrated . . . I'd turn them in and the general manager, Miguel, or the shift manager, Arthur Yee, would have the customer thrown out then send the girl back onto the floor with a wink and a warning. If the customer was a regular, then all was forgiven and I was told to give him a 'pass' when he was back there because he was 'okay'.”
Kingpin claims that favoritism is shown to dancers for providing sexual favors to the owner, the general manager, and their elite clientèle. “Some dancers and customers are untouchable no matter what sex acts they engage in on the premises, so you need to find out who's who,” Kingpin asserts. “After the first few times I stopped a dancer from plying her sexual trade in the V.I.P. Lounge, the 'Kool Aid Man' (a nickname dancers and employees call Westlund behind his back that refers to his appearance) took me aside and gave me his 'Big Picture' speech. You see the dancers all tip out at the end of the shift —different amounts depending on what night it is. On average the tip out is fifty dollars from each dancer . . . five to the deejay, five for security to split, five for each manager and thirty five to the house, namely Westlund. On weekends you run a hundred girls and weeknights fifty. So after all the variables, just off that one club, each year, Westlund clears over half a million bucks in cash money off dancer tip outs alone. Lap dances are the life blood of the industry.”

In 1998 Westlund was arrested on multiple counts of fraud, embezzlement, forgery and tax evasion. In the end he waqs convicted of tax evasion and given an undisclosed fine, 2000 hours community service and 7 years of probation. Kingpin claims that Westlund does not report the cash money tips he receives from dancers. "The fact that Westlund doesn't pay taxes on the tip out is a source of pride and amusemnt to him, so he brags about it to make himself seem like he's operating above the law like an untouchable."
Kingpin says that managers at The Pony are deployed in front of the V.I.P. Lounge with radios as lookouts to protect dancers and customers breaking the law from getting busted. “If O.C.U. (Organized Crime Unit) rolls up, the guy on parking lot security calls the Office Manager to the lobby and the V.I.P. Manager herds all the girls out the coded back door and into the dressing room where they sit down and fuss with their grooming . . . by the time the vice cops get through the door, the customers are walking out of an empty V.I.P. Lounge.”
For proof that this is the way of things, Kingpin offers this logic. “The club pays the V.I.P. Manager a hundred bucks a shift to stand at the entrance all night helping ladies up the little stairs into the room —we also get five bucks per girl, and there's between fifty and a hundred girls a night, so you do the math . . . Now, if we were getting all those bucks to stop illegal lap dances, we wouldn't need a radio headset because we wouldn't have to run the girls out of there or worry about the PO-lice coming in and busting us, because we wouldn't be breaking the law.”
It is Kingpin's contention that the primary function of the managers is to be on the lookout for undercover police in the audience and to be ready in case there's a raid. “The undercovers sit in the club for hours at times, sometimes in pairs or couples, writing down all the violations. Even if girls are sitting in a customer's lap they get arrested . . . they also get pinched for flashing on stage. Then vice leaves and hands off the names to O.C.U., who roll in to arrest the offending girls and sometimes sweep the V.I.P. Lounge.”
Kingpin charges the officers with misconduct and says that their behavior is also inappropriate and illegal. “They're committing entrapment all the time, trying to lure women to some hotel or offering them extra money to get more than the allowable lap dance action . . . it's a disgraceful round robin.”

Kingpin states that none of this police work does anything to prevent the ongoing illegal activities that take place in the V.I.P. Lounge, because the undercover officers do not go back there and the area is covered by dense curtains so no one in the crowd can see in. “If a cop went back there and got the girl on his lap to agree to, or actually commit, an erotic violation, he'd be caught in a 'he said', 'she said he did' thing . . . . the dancer will always say the cop touched her inappropriately or exposed himself, so the cops stay out of the lounge unless they come in force to storm the place.”
Kingpin scoffs at the efforts of police and labels these stings as an ineffectual waste of time, because the management is on to them. “If a customer on the floor is so gauche that he offers the girl a bribe to go to the V.I.P. Lounge and commit a sex act, or begs her to go back to the hotel with him for a fee then you know he's a cop or an idiot and out he goes . . . it's like saying 'bong' in a head shop,” Kingpin quips. “Now if they make an indecent proposal while in the V.I.P., even if the girl complains about it, the customer is not asked to leave, because we know he's not a cop. But no matter where they are when they ask a girl to leave with them, they get bounced, because it takes money from the club.”
Kingpin points out that many officers have a conflict of interest when they are working the strip clubs looking for violations. “It's not just here; historically cops are consistent customers in the trade,” Kingpin concludes, after nearly thirty years in the business. “The cops think they can get away with more if they tell the girls they're cool with it . . . plus they're always haggling to lower the price. You got cops working a club on Thursday and partying in it on Friday.”
The threat of a raid is something the management is constantly on alert for and it makes the workplace environment tense, because they are aware that laws are being broken and that they will be arrested with the dancers if caught. “When the law hit Tunica Cabaret, and Platinum Plus, the cops took everyone they could; the managers were charged for their complicity and the deejays got tagged for pandering because they asked customers to tip girls while narrating the events on stage and promoting the lap dance skills of the ladies . . . that's why we've got to play it straight.”
Kingpin discloses that Westlund has a contingency plan in place to protect any of the girls that get arrested, because if the club receives too many citations they will be closed down. “Westlund tells the girls not to plead guilty, and promises that he'll bail them out and bring in his lawyer to fight her case . . . he'll even have her chauffeured to court.”

While this may seem admirable, Kingpin emphasizes that this practice underscores Westlund's ongoing acceptance of illegal activity. “If you were running the business straight, you would kick that girl to the curb for jeopardizing your club, but Westlund keeps them around for the money they bring in, which off each working dancer is a minimum of $500 per month times almost a couple of hundred dancers, in his pocket. By letting them know he's got their back, they can all go on doing what they do, even though they could get busted . . . it keeps the customers coming back for more and the money rolling in.”
Kingpin explains that there is a basis for defending all these charges and that's why so few are successfully prosecuted. “We're in the fantasy business, in mind, body, spirit and conversation, so anything the ladies say is merely fantasy chat . . . she claims that she'll verbally agree to anything to get a lap dance with no intention of living up to the bargain . . . case dismissed.”
There are some events going on at The Pony that are undeniably gross no matter what your personal beliefs are about strip clubs. “Behind the stage at The Pony, they have a little alcove where customers can get a jacuzzi dance with the lady of their choice . . . though not much of what goes on in the jacuzzi can actually be called 'dancing' ”, Kingpin edifies. “Now these dances start out at $300 for a half hour —$150 to the house and $150 to the dancer . . . that's just the ante that gets them in there then the haggling begins over how much more for how much more.”
Now try this on for size . . . “The customer is given a one-size-fits-all that have been worn-by-all, pair of trunks,” Kingpin informs. “The girl is supposed to only be topless, but that's negotiable. The security guard mans the doorway, ready to quickly get them out of the tub so they're only soaking their feet if the cops come calling.”

But wait, the worst is yet to come . . . “The nasty part is that the water hasn't been changed since they took the place over two years ago,” Kingpin groans. “There is swirling filth and dead skin, and a layer of gunk along the sides . . . it looks more like a septic tank than a hot tub until you turn up the jets and get the colored lights going then sprinkle in some foamy bubble bath. It's a bio-hazard!”
So if oral sex and straight sex are not supposed to go in the tub, what illegal behavior is permissible in the club according to “The Code?” “The code is the same everywhere,” Kingpin assures. “But for whatever reason, it is a make out spot . . . the girls are more likely to kiss in the tub than they will on dry land, because they think the chlorine kills the germs —they feel the same way about having sex back there too . . . that's because they don't see the tub until it's time to get in and it's all pink and bubbly.”
Kingpin stresses that he objects to 'The Pleasure Tub', because the activity in there puts the club at risk. “Customers and girls know they can get away with more in the tub than they can in the booths, not so much because of the management catching them, but because other girls will rat them out if they get out of bounds. In the tub, you're one on one, on your own . . . or maybe two on one, or in a small group, but the girls that do the tub will only team up with girls ready to make money by any means necessary . . . that's just a bust waiting to happen.”

So is the purpose of the jacuzzi dances to have sex? “If not sex, they expect the girl to make them climax,” Kingpin states, “and that is why many girls won't do them or can't get them . . . which isn't fair. If the management enforced the rules, then all the girls could do them, because the customer would have no expectation of getting more from one than he did from the other.”
For verification that illegal activity goes on in the tub, Kingpin offers common sense. “You don't have to jump to conclusions; they come right to you. The customer is paying big bucks for a short time, so he expects a lot more action than he gets anywhere else in the club. He's paying way more than the couple of bucks he puts on stage to witness her writhing body, and far more than he pays to get her to grind his crotch in the V.I.P. Lounge, so there's got to be something more than her sparkling conversation luring him back there . . . of course the condoms bobbing in the murky water is also a clue.”
Kingpin comes from the old school of strip club etiquette and believes that even in the smut business, integrity must be maintained for the greater good. “For years girls have offered deejays bribes to get out of going on stage or to go up out of turn, and forever the answer has always been "NO WAY!" But, like it was at Platinum and The Tunica Cabaret, at The Pony, there could be a hundred girls in the place, yet only twenty-thirty hit the stage . . .maybe. They all want to troll for lap dances and that's not fair to the girls who go on stage and have their customer snagged by a designated lap dancer.”
Kingpin feels that strip clubs should be socially responsible venues for sexual behavior that stops the flow of diseases and keeps husbands from seeking prostitutes when they stray from their wives. “I always tell customers to get a lap dance so they'll want to go home and have sex with the old lady . . . again,” Kingpin laughs. “Strippers are the wife's best friend, because they get her spouse revved up and send him home to her ready to go. Dancers are supposed to provide fantasy contact with men to arouse the possibility of sex without actualizing it . . . that's why it is called a strip tease.”

Naturally, Kingpin has no moral outrage toward acts of prostitution and supports a woman's right to choose what she can do with her body for any price she chooses. “If a woman wants to make a guy's fantasies come true and provide the sexual acts he is willing to pay for then let freedom ring! So long as they take it home and keep it out of the V.I.P. Lounge, it falls under no one's jurisdiction.”
As always, Kingpin's assertions are all business oriented. “If we get the sex and oral sex out of the clubs, we can preserve lap dancing as a constitutional right and sue for restraint of trade when the busybody laws try to invade our personal freedom. It is immoral to concern yourselves with the immorality of others. This is about equality in the workplace, not personal values . . . in a free society, I have the right not to have values at all.”

***********

NOW READ . . .

THE KINGPIN vs THE KOOL AID MAN

*******

BITTER SUITES BEHIND DOLLS
*******

WESTLUND: THE MAN & HIS STRIP CLUBS
*******

Listen to The Kingpin

TALKIN SEX WITH THE LADIES
*******

Visit THE GIFT SHOP to purchase stylewear and items with unique designs and original isms created by THE KINGPIN
*******

Minors and prudes are not welcome . . .

JERRY WESTLUND IS A RACIST!

2008-04-04T03:45:00.010-04:00

WESTLUND

THE MAN & HIS STRIP CLUBS

written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

I wrote this to Michael Erskine at

The Commercial Appeal in a familiar journalistic format.

Because of the self imposed limitations of their newspaper they will not be able to run certain elements of this story which are germain to the plot, so this is the unvarnished version.

*******

As Charles G, “Jerry” Westlund Jr., a strip club entrepreneur, with locations in California, Illinois, Missouri, South Carolina and Memphis, readies to reopen the Black Tail on Brooks Road as The Player's Club, after it was closed down in February 2007, because of $26,500 in fines for prostitution and acts of pornography, we continue our in depth look into the activities and practices at his other two Memphis-based clubs, The Pony and Downtown Dolls, in the final installment of our series providing an unprecedented behind the scenes account of the standards applied by Westlund, his management and dancers, when deciding which illicit behavior is acceptable whether it is legal or not.
In order to tell the story accurately we may detail occurrences that some may find outrageous and distasteful. We feel that it is important to tell this story, so the public will be informed when they articulate why certain acts between customers and dancers are so objectionable that they must be illegal. Since we never wish to offend, we warn that this material may not be suitable for all readers.
The source of this unvarnished inside information is The Kingpin Thorne Peters, an author and talk radio show host living in Memphis who spent twenty years emceeing in Hollywood's exotic dance clubs, beginning in 1978.

After eight years out of the business, spent writing and publishing his books, he worked between The Pony and Downtown Dolls as a manager and a deejay beginning in January 2007. Kingpin was fired in October 2007 without being given a reason, but claims it was because he constantly warned Westlund and Miguel, the general manager of Westlund's Mid South operations, that girls were performing oral copulation and straight sex in the V.I.P. Lounge and they were going to get closed down like Platinum Plus did if they didn't put a stop to it, by getting rid of the girls that were chronic offenders.

In response to his dismissal, Kingpin has filed a discriminatory retaliation suit against Westlund. “It is unlawful to fire an employee for complaining about illegal practices in the workplace,” attorney Gene Bell chastises. “Based on Mr. Peters' work record and talent at his craft, it will be difficult for Mr. Westlund to show sufficient reason why he was promoting Mr. Peters one day and firing him the day after leveling his strongest complaints about acts of prostitution taking place in the club.”
“My reason for going public is to preserve a level playing field for dancers,” Kingpin contends. “If some girls do more than they're allowed to, other dancers will not be able to make money and out of necessity will also break the rules and get the club closed—that's why management must be there to intervene, and I don't mean by beefing up security as lookouts for police so girls don't get caught in the act in the V.I.P. Lounge.”

In this article, we are given Kingpin's perspective of how Westlund operates and why his clubs are so routinely in violation of laws and their own sense of a code. Kingpin describes Westlund as a man with a reckless obsession to recreate the conditions and services that Platinum Plus offered, which was an extremely profitable venue for all concerned, until it was closed down on December 9, 2006 under an avalanche of drug and prostitution charges, which culminated with the owner, Ralph Lunati, being sentenced to 18 months in prison. Kingpin says it's a high holy date on Westlund's calendar.

“The Pony was barely treading water before Platinum (Plus) and The (Tunica) Cabaret got shut down,” he notes. “Then overnight The Pony was packed to the walls with customers and the dressing room overflowed with girls.”
Kingpin was genuinely surprised that the former staff from the defunct Lunati-owned clubs would be welcomed so readily by Westlund, when many of them had charges hanging over their heads because of their involvement in the rampant illegalities. “Instead of shunning the managers and deejays from those clubs, who committed every cardinal sin of the business, and got their club closed down, Westlund puts them in key management positions—even paying their legal fees and fines—because he feels they know how to keep the good times flowing in the V.I.P. Lounge.”

Then Kingpin sneers, “But to Hell with laws! These charlatans sold out their club and the industry by taking bribes and looking the other way while dancer turned their strip club into a whorehouse. It's a farce for Westlund to pretend that he runs a legit business . . . the same thing is going on at The Pony that went on at Platinum—that's what Westlund's goal is . . . and the same fate awaits.” To make his position clear he rhetorically asks, “How much money are they making at Platinum tonight?”
After Kingpin was fired, Westlund replaced him with another former Lunati manager making four of the five night managers at The Pony from former Lunati clubs at that time. Westlund's club in Poplar Bluff, Missouri is managed by former Tunica Cabaret manager Terry Wilbanks, and initially his club in East Cape Girardeau, Illinois was managed by Blake, former manager of Platinum Plus.

“Westlund knowingly reunited the girls turning tricks with the managers that pimped them out to customers, so naturally those customers went to The Pony to hook up ” Kingpin charges. “Westlund still hasn't figured out that the Platinum way of doing things was a disaster.”
But Kingpin is quick to point out that not all the strip clubs operate outside the law and most dancers obey the industry code, of not exposing the customers or allowing themselves to be penetrated, and many even follow the law while on the job—it is for their benefit that he speaks out so candidly against Westlund's operation.

“At (Steve) Cooper's clubs (The Gold Club, Christies, and New York-New York) that stuff is not tolerated. If girls break the rules or managers and security take bribes to look the other way while customers get their swerve on, they get fired on the spot when they're caught . . . then Westlund hires them.”
When he first arrived in Memphis, in October 1998, Kingpin worked for Cooper until March 1999, between Tiffany's Cabaret (where The Pony is now) and The Gold Club, before beginning his career as a dedicated self-published author.

In October 2006, he went back to work in the industry and was hired by Steve Cooper, Jr., to work at Christie's Cabaret. Because he was offered more shifts and chance for advancement, he left Christie's to work at Downtown Dolls in January 2007, where he remained in Westlund's employ between Dolls and The Pony until October 2007.
Opening in October 2005, Dolls had a consistent customer base and an adequate amount of dancers, so they were hanging in for that first year. Their high moment came in October 2005, when the club hosted a Stonewall Halloween party where the Mud Flap Kings played live and packed the house.

But there were also numerous violations under Westlund's management team that could have closed the place, so he brought in longtime strip club manager Rex Wilbanks in January 2007, who was managing New York-New York for Cooper at that time. Wilbanks had also managed at Christie's while Kingpin was there and invited him to deejay and train as a manager at Dolls. Kingpin says Westlund ordered Wilbanks to police the place so there were no new legal complications.

“He wanted us to protect his interest more than make a profit. The Pony profits pay for both businesses, and even generated enough so he could sit on the Black Tail for a year waiting to get a clean slate from its previous violations.”
Kingpin feels Westlund worried Dolls had gotten a bad rep for attracting the wrong crowd, which would keep the better customers away if he ever manages to open as a topless club. “He was very clear that he wanted us to run off the thug culture that was there and the way you do that is by blasting Rock & Roll . . . that's where me and Rex came in,” Kingpin affirms. “Westlund told us many times that if the club stayed 'Black' he'd close the doors.”
After more than two years in operation, Westlund has yet to open the south building or the basement to the public, and has failed to obtain a topless permit, despite being continuously in litigation. Dolls has steadily lost money and customers, becoming a costly enterprise for Westlund to keep going. The club has closed its doors on Sunday and Monday, reducing their paid staff, making some work for tips only; in the often-dangerous strip club industry, there is no security most nights.

“For over two months, I was the only person running the show every Sunday and Monday night—manager, deejay, bartender, and security.” Kingpin states that this is a very dangerous practice in the strip club industry, where alcohol mixed with passion can become a cocktail for violence, evidenced by the many people who have been shot in strip clubs over the past year alone just in Memphis. “Strip clubs are like high school football games, where armed people get wasted and shoot it out over the final score.”
Despite the setbacks and failures and fines, Westlund evidently still has big plans for the club to become the strip club Shangri-La he promised on opening night, if he ever secures the elusive topless permit. “Westlund wants to turn the basement into the V.I.P. Dungeon with booths and jacuzzis; he wants to have a V.I.P. Sky Box on the second floor of the south building,” Kingpin diagrams, “and he'll have five layers of security keeping out riffraff and vice cops from those sensitive areas, so the girls are free to "operate" . . . the big shots and feature strippers will spill out into Westlund's suites in the back. He's got it all figured out.”
Kingpin alerts us that Westlund is looking to expand his holdings on the block. “He's even looking to buy the original Heartbreak Hotel across the street from Dolls to set up apartments for strippers and visiting dignitaries . . . welcome to 'Westlund World' ”
Kingpin says the the difference between The Pony and Dolls is night and day, because Dolls is under so much scrutiny. “At Dolls, the girls are not allowed to break the laws, let alone the code,” Kingpin promises. “The dancers have to keep one foot on the floor during a lap dance; they can't simulate oral copulation; they cannot show their breasts, let alone anything else; they're not allowed to grab a guy by the crotch . . . they can't even take money in their thong on stage or on the floor.”

Kingpin attests that this strict policy about lap dancing is a Catch .22. "Monitoring lap dances cuts into profits for the dancers, because customers don't buy them if theycan't get action and we're all the time checking up on them."

So one wonders how much those rules are followed at Dolls when money is at stake on a slow night. “Followed? Well the rules are consistently broken by dancers, but just as consistently enforced by management,” Kingpin assures. “At Dolls the manager or security tries to stay in the V.I.P. Lounge and we sneak up on them all the time. It's a tug of war and they still manage to get one in now and then; sometimes they sneak behind the booths or go into the deserted restrooms back there and one time we caught a girl in the kitchen oral copulating her customer in the walk in fridge, but they're history if they get caught . . . the problem is that they're understaffed and there isn't always someone to watch out.”
So what about when Westlund throws his private parties in the south building or hosts soirées in his private suite, as Kingpin accuses? “Well it's not going on in the main room at Dolls and the buildings have separate addresses, so we just grit our teeth and ignore it; we try to make it less obvious to the girls on shift,” he rationalizes. “We did send a message to Westlund through his assistant, Kyle, asking that he not run the gaggle of girls from The Pony through the main room and out the basement to the complex where he lives and parties . . . they can come in through the back alley. We also requested that he and Miguel not call for girls that were on the shift to join them downstairs, because we never had enough girls which means a lousy tip out night for me.”
Kingpin declares it was a culture shock working at the downtown Memphis venue, quite unlike his experiences in L.A. “Well the dancers at Dolls are not wannabe actresses and models, like the L.A. babes,” Kingpin critiques. “They're mostly welfare baby-mommas by day, hardcore streetwalkers by night . . . they come into Dolls to get out of the cold, and since they're all we've got we keep them until they make their move on a customer at the club.”

This low standard for hiring girls at Dolls creates risks to customers. “These chicks are down for their play by any means necessary,” Kingpin warns. “Every time you turn around, you have to deal with an angry customer complaining they got their wallet jacked . . . we fired one girl who was on the phone calling her baby-daddy/pimp to come rob some customer who had a wad of cash. I don't even believe the rash of auto thefts at the club are always random; these girls run with some pretty scandalous characters.”
It shouldn't be surprising to learn that racial profiling goes on under Westlund's orders at The Pony and Black dancers are kept to a bare minimum. “The Pony is his mother ship, so he micro manages that place,” Kingpin outlines. “He is very clear he doesn't want Black dancers on his stage, because they will attract Black customers and the White customers won't come around. The deejays are not allowed to play Rap, so that Blacks won't make the place their spot. When a Black girls shows up in the lobby at The Pony looking for work, there is a code used to alert the manager. The door guys says: 'There be a dancer out here looking for work.' Whether she's fine or hideous the manager then says: 'Flush her to Downtown Dolls.' Practically every Black dancer at Dolls got rerouted from The Pony . . . just ask them.”

Kingpin reveals that Westlund eventually brought in token Black dancers to avoid being tagged as a racist, but has a plan in place to keep them off the roster. “He will hire a few then fire a couple then hire one here and there and fire one here and there, so there are never more than a few on the roster. They really have to compete to get a lap dance from White customers, with so many featured White dancers around, so they get shutout and hassled for not having tip out—they get no consideration.”
But when it comes to hiring employees for The Pony, Westlund's racism is complete. “He never hires Blacks to work in management or bartend or deejay or waitress, because it will make the club look Black," Kingpin incriminates. "He will only put them on security, so no one can say he doesn't have Blacks on his payroll. He also says they're scarier looking than White guys . . . at least to him.”

Westlund's issues with Blacks, particularly female Blacks, takes on some peculiar practices. "His manservant, Kyle, was told by Westlund that he was only allowed to have sex with the Black girls from the club, so that he wouldn't be with a girl he might want to try for."
Kingpin charges that the management and security acts recklessly when manhandling customers that get out of line. “You're dealing with drunk guys trying to save face in front of friends and females, and you've got bouncers trying to look macho to the girlies and the crew, and before you know it someone is reaching into his jacket for a weapon.”

Though Kingpin hasn't been involved in any of the shooting events, he has been present for some very dangerous moments. “These jerks have to settle it by pulling out their gun and waving it to let the everyone know that they are willing to shoot. I'll bet half the time these people get shoot someone it is accidental discharge due to drunken stupidity . . . which probably describes their love life as well.”

Along with escalating the threat of violence, Kingpin says the management's procedures for dealing with customers that get bounced often break the law. “The shift manager, Arthur Yee, has illegally handcuffed customers to the outside wall and smacked them around for not paying for lap dances or has lifted their wallet and taken out the money or pulled out his weapon to menace a customer . . . that's kidnapping, unlawful detention, strong arm robbery, and brandishing a weapon all rolled into one,” Kingpin categorizes. “There are too many ways to get busted or shot there trying to do an honest day's work.”
Kingpin says that pimps are routinely in the crowd recruiting girls or making side deals for the girls in their stable. “The pimps have presence; they are introduced as pimps and have their spot where they set up and operate from . . . the good ones spend money. When they're not around, the girls are steady on their cellphones in contact with them to see if he's got quick money lined up.”

Kingpin has no evidence that Westlund allows pimps to work out of the club, but he has been told to treat some preferentially while being told to give the boot to others. “Many of the dancers go to the club to advertise their services off the premises more than make money on the premises. They chat the customers up during a lap dance then come out of the V.I.P. with a story about their kid going to the hospital or their momma dying and leave on the heals of the customer. There are girls doing this all the time—nightly. So if the management did not at least tacitly approve, she would be fired after doing it a a few times per month.”
Kingpin verifies that there is a strong drug element in the club. Though he does not claim that the management knowingly allows it, he questions how they don't know about the dealers when the employees and dancers know who they are and which drugs they deal. “Whatever your drug of choice is, you can score it at The Pony . . . if they're not on the premises, they're just a call away and they deliver.”

Kingpin admits that drugs have always been prevalent in the strip clubs since he began deejaying back in 1978, but the designer drugs of today create a different monster than the ones he dealt with from yesteryear. “I've always been a 'Say no to drugs, smoke pot,' kinda guy,” Kingpin avows. “When I began, partyables were cocaine, ludes and L.S.D. Now it's meth, Lortab and X . . . plus they're on head case meds for their many self inflicted emotional and psychological disorders. These girls get so intense . . . sexual one minute, violent the next. I've seen my share of cat fights, but these girls put on boots and stomp each other. The meth is the worst because of the horrible scabs that break out on their faces, which they sit in the mirror picking . . . the girls on tabs all grind their teeth and stare blankly; the girls on roll just cruise around rubbing against anything . . . it's a shame to see beauty squandered.”
But to Kingpin's mind that is not the most personally distressing change to the strippers in the near, decade between his gigs. “What is horrifying to me is that these women are all tattooed like walls in gang neighborhoods,” Kingpin laments. “They're tagged! It's such a disgraceful violation of the female body. When I was at the Sunset Strip, in L.A., we didn't hire girls with a tattoo . . . then when they were all getting one, we made them cover it up . . . now they're just splattered and there's nowhere to hide . . . ugh and yuk!”

And that wasn't the only noticeable difference about the new styles favored by strippers that caught Kingpin's eye. “We would not let girls strip on stage if they had completely shaved their genitals, because we didn't want to pander to pedophile fetishes . . . now dancers have more tattoos than pubic hair.”
Kingpin sees Westlund as being the worst enemy of his own business as well as the industry. In June 2007, Westlund gained infamy for putting up a series of offending posters along the road to Tunica using the popular “Got Milk” format, asking motorists, instead, “Got Beer?” Then on a subsequent sign, asked, “Got Boobs?” And finally announcing on a billboard for The Pony, with Westlund surrounded by strippers, “We've got both!” Now the boobs have been replaced by baseballs and the signs make no sense.

Westlund has also turned the vehicles of his management into mobile advertising, wrapping them with the logos of Dolls and The Pony with half naked ladies on the side. Currently the club is under citation for an improper display of their neon stripper on the side of Dolls that can be seen all the way to Union Avenue.

“I tried to tell Westlund that with all the bad publicity swirling around the industry and the court battles with the club, he needed to lay low and be a businessman instead of wannabe celeb,” Kingpin chastises. “Those lame signs, the logo wraps on the trucks with the porn chicks, and the giant neon stripper on the side of the wall are inappropriate, because it takes away people's right to ignore the strip club venue, which is what we want them to do if they don't want to come in and share the debauchery.”

Kingpin also let Westlund know that he felt his advertisements declaring themselves to be the “New Platinum” was a red flag he didn't need to hang on the club. “No one's fooled. Saying we're the 'New Platinum' is a code to let them know it's just like the 'Old Platinum' and that means the customers and police have an expectation of that same illegal behavior.”
Kingpin grouses that Westlund's style of mismanagement will get his clubs shutdown which will give the zealots fuel to go after more clubs and ruin the industry for people who enjoy this age-old entertainment venue, as well as for the people whose livelihoods depend on the clubs staying open. “Westlund and all these owners have a responsibility not to jeopardize the industry or their employees or the dancers . . . there's enough money to go around if you play it straight.”

Furthermore, Kingpin pleads that the city needs to make peace with the strip clubs, because if more clubs are closed, it will have a negative impact on a struggling Memphis economy. “Love'em or hate'em, the 'shake joints' make it rain,” Kingpin calculates. “Not just the millions generated by alcohol sales, will be gone, but the income made by thousands of dancers and employees, who will not be able to make nearly this kind of money in the labor force. These baby mommas will end up filling the welfare rolls; they will have to take kids out of day care and private schools; they will have to turn in their cars and not buy new ones; they will not keep their appointments for personal grooming services; they will move out of pricey apartments and homes that will remain empty for a long time; they will not buy impulse items in stores, or splurge at the malls. There is an entire business community relying on those in the strip club industry to keep spending our cash money with them so they can make their ends meet . . . there is enough abandoned business space in this town without adding to it. I mean isn't it enough the Memphis hierarchy foolishly kept the casinos out of town?”
Kingpin also believes that we need to put the issue of the strip clubs in perspective, so we hold the right people responsible for the correct misdeeds. That is why he has been so open about revealing the underbelly of the industry as he witnessed it while working for Westlund. “With all the civil unrest here in the homicide capitol, the least of our concerns is who's doing what with who's whatsits for how much,” Kingpin admonishes. “That expensive probe into the strip clubs revealed what anyone could find out for forty dollars. You the people must respect the fact that a strip club is not a public place, it is a private business and everyone should keep their noses and the law out of it . . . no one has ever been lap danced against their will, so we don't need laws in there. As long as the dancers respect 'the code' and the owners demand management follow suit then there will be no problems. You know that the law has lost all perspectivve when a chick gets arrested for indecent exposure in a strip club!”
When asked about his own credibility to make these claims, Kingpin pontificates, “I don't need to be credible . . . only honest. In fact I'm the most credible person to make these claims, because I want to preserve strip clubs so beautiful women have a place to publicly strip. No one is buying the morals outrage, because The Constitution supercedes The Bible in America . . . thank God. My demand is that a level playing field be maintained in the workplace and my lawsuit and these articles are based on this premise . . . and besides, look who I'm stacking my credibility up against."

And Kingpin is willing to go all the way to prove his charges are reliable. "I'm going to depose myself on a polygraph; I can tell you for sure that 'The Kool Aid Man' won't.”

We will follow this story as it moves through the court and update you on this precedent setting workplace legal battle as it unfolds.

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NOW READ . . .
THE KINGPIN vs THE KOOL AID MAN

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BITTER SUITES BEHIND DOLLS

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TALES FROM THE VIP LOUNGE

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TALKIN SEX WITH THE LADIES

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DEMOCRATIC DICTATORSHIP

2008-04-01T18:53:00.012-04:00

DEMOCRATIC DICTATORSHIP
written by: THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS

www.ThornePeters.com

“Above all, we must realize that no arsenal is so formidable as the will and courage of free people.” —President Ronald Regan

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July 4, 2007 on THE RAREFIED REALM

at WMQM 1600 AM MEMPHIS
THE KINGPIN THORNE PETERS said . . .

Happy Independence Day to America! Here’s to the day that we are finally free to be consenting adults—which ain’t today, by a long shot. At a mere 231 years old, we are the longest running democracy in recorded history, and yet it is our very concept and application of democracy as we believe it to be that is jeopardizing the future of our freedom and it will be utterly amazing if this country is still in tact by the tri-centennial in just 69 years . . .Let us go back for a moment to that day of days on our calendar —84,370 days ago to be precise . . . it was Thursday July 4, 1776, that the Continental Congress gathered in Philadelphia to sign what we now refer to as "The Declaration of Independence" to send back to jolly old England to tell King George in no uncertain terms where he could stick his royal scepter. From that day forth, America stopped being a British colony and became a nation of United States that would be governed democratically and not ruled arbitrarily. As Lincoln would note, four score and seven years later, it was a government of the people, for the people and by the people . . . and therein the seed of havoc was planted. In spite of being drafted by Thomas Jefferson, overseen by John Adams and edited by Benjamin Franklin the document, which was originally entitled “The Unanimous Declaration of the Thirteen United States of America”, created controversy in its time and laid a crumbling foundation for this new nation which we continuously teeter on awaiting the inevitable fall. You see, in order for Democracy to provide Freedom, you the people should have never been given the right to vote about what I can do to myself or with a consenting partner or group. Morals laws are something that should be taught at home or preached in church, not placed on the ballot and enforced in the courts. Prohibition and crusades never work, because of our desire to live free or die! That means no God, nor any government, should invade my personal space until I inflict myself upon another against their will. Your right to have a public opinion about my personal choices is not a right to have a say in them, let alone the final word on the subject. Laws should never govern issues, because that would be the same as making laws to govern opinions. Now here’s how you can tell the difference between an issue and a law—if we have to vote on it, it is an issue not a law. Murderers have always been punished—unless they murder in the name of the popular God or demigod in their region—no one had to go to the polls to vote if robbery should be illegal; no one had to campaign to make rape against the law, because I’d have voted PRO and gone to Jaclyn Smith’s house that very night . . . all night . . . and every night since. Taking away a person’s right to consent is an atrocity equal to taking away a person’s right to dissent. Remember that it is immoral to concern yourself with the immorality of others.

The line that best sums up the dichotomous hypocrisy of The Declaration of Independence is: “All men are created equal”. This was an interesting line, considering Negroes were being bought, sold and worked as slaves who had neither freedom nor equality. Any attempts by Jefferson or Adams to introduce abolitionist idealism into the document was shot down and torn apart by the plantation delegation . . . yet the line was not deleted; it was a seed they planted that they hoped would one day see the light. But instead, in order to make this phrase of equality a truism, it was declared that Negroes were only three-fifths of a White man and therefore not entitled to equal equality. Note also in this line that women were not even factored into the equation of equality . . . they had no lobby at all. Like Negroes, they would not have a place in government and could not vote . . . for most of the next two centuries they were relegated to living in a Caste System of servitude; they were a necessary evil to be dealt with, since they provided a crucial service to White men, but they would neither be entitled nor empowered according to the laws of church and state, which went hand in glove. This grand document of independence also offered no provisions, acknowledgment or consideration for the laws or the culture or the land of the Native Americans who had trod on this soil for over a million years before the first Caucasians showed up . . . but as Pagan savages they had no right to rights.

Although there was much wrangling among the Sons of Liberty, The D of I was launched with these christening words from Ben Franklin to the fledgling Continental Congress . . . “Gentlemen, we must now hang together or we shall certainly hang separately”. Lincoln would later expand on this theme when he declared: “A house divided cannot stand”. And yet there is the rub up; for America is a house divided, because we hang separately. How can we declare these to be United States, when the laws change at every border? This antique concept of state’s rights laid the ground work for the Civil War and then heated civil liberties battles and civil unrest that rages on till this moment because freedom and equality are redefined at every state line—one state’s misdemeanor is another state’s felony.

For instance, let's say I am standing on Highway 51 and Stateline Road at the Mississippi/Tennessee border. Now on the Mississippi side of the street I am getting it on with a hot sixteen year old babe and the worst fate I will suffer is being hated on for scoring a prime young thing at my advanced age and weight . . . So now I cross the street to the Tennessee side and do it with my little slice of teen heaven and I am arrested, thrown into prison for years, and then made to register as a sex offender for life, like I’m some freak in the park pulling my wee-wee out at little girls for ice cream money. I’ll have to go to counseling to explain my freakish desire for firm, sexy, nubile, tawny young women in the full bloom of their physical rapture at a time before their bodies are tainted by tattoos and or marred by child bearing.

Now, in ALL fifty states, a sixteen year old is considered mature enough to drive a vehicle, which means they literally are responsible for the safety of others while operating a potentially deadly machine; they are able, even expected, to get a job so they can contribute to their upkeep and become taxpaying members of society, but in thirty-seven states they’re not allowed the right to consent to having sex with anyone over the age of seventeen—Daddy Law; a law passed by daddies to control their daughter’s sexuality beyond a natural age. But worse than that, it’s taxation without representation, which is an intolerable act as defined by The Declaration of Independence!

We live in a country where God, The Great White Father, and Big Brother follow us into the sanctity of our homes and into the privacy of our bedrooms to demand that a code of behavior be followed by law and scripture, lest we be branded deviants that should righteously be persecuted and prosecuted, and sentenced to the wasteland of prison or condemned to the fiery bowels of Hell. In many states, there are laws on the books that deny adults the right to engage in consensual acts of sodomy or oral copulation. It is an invasion of the most intimate freedom we claim for ourselves and therefore we must fight to protect ourselves from the very government that is entrusted to safeguard our liberties.

These laws are enforced as crimes against nature, when in reality enforcing these laws are crimes against humanity. How dare you claim the right to vote about what I choose to smoke, drink, ingest, snort, or shoot into MY BODY then rally to deny my freedom of choice in the name of your values! I am free to choose not to have values as you understand them. Who do you think you are that you believe you have the right to dictate who is allowed to mate with whom, just because it conflicts with your religious beliefs and personal outlooks? What right empowers us to vote against a woman exercising her right to charge a fair price for her sexual favors, or even an unfair price? It’s her body! That’s restraint of trade! If I want to take my hard earned, heavily taxed dollars to the Heidi Fleiss mansion and get laid by a primetime fox in the big Jacuzzi, why’s the law up in my business and hers in this allegedly FREE COUNTRY? Show me the victim or step off! I’ll tell you . . . when women are arrested for indecent exposure in a strip club we know that the law has lost all credibility and the moral majority is dangerously over the top.

Issues regarding race, creed, religion, and orientation must remain above the law in the name of justice. We cannot be allowed to vote our prejudices —otherwise interracial coupling would still be a hanging offense and homosexuals would be thrown in jail . . . which for them is something like a busman’s holiday. The Pilgrims came to this country for religious freedom then tortured citizens for heresy, stoned adulterers, tarred and feathered scientists, and labeled people as witches then burned them at the stake. The Victorians lynched Negroes for even looking at White women. Bastions of conservative Christianity still harass and attack interracial couples, run minorities out of their neighborhoods, blow up abortion clinics, torch churches and synagogues, legislate against homosexual coupling, and vote to send women to the back alleys again for illegal abortions . . . all in allegiance to their religious values and societal mores, without concern for human liberty. Now I ask you; what could be more Un-American?

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness . . . this is not just a catchy phrase; it was written to be a catchall for the future to protect us from being violated by the church and state with actions that invade our privacy with edicts limiting our freedom of choice and belief. The Emancipation Proclamation added equality to our inalienable rights; now The Kingpin Decree grants the final piece of the equation—consent; the right as an adult to consent with consenters; as Wiccans say: “Do what you will, but inflict no harm.” That simply means that I can do to myself or with another whatsoever the hell we want to until we do something unto another that is unwanted. That is the only Golden Rule/commandment/law we must live and die for . . . the rest is ignorant minutia and deadly rhetoric spewed forth in the name of government and religion in an attempt to control our freedom and thereby deny it. Remember that your position concerning the consensual activities of others is important only to you . . . when you feel outraged and disgusted by the freedoms of choice some people engage in, your only democratic response is to mind your goddamned business, so please exercise it often. It is immoral to concern yourself with the immorality of others.

You cannot use a law as a means to deny my consensual activities; that is an attack upon my freedom which merits an equally aggressive response . . . and here it comes. When the law stops being a tool and becomes a weapon, it is the law that becomes the enemy of the people and civil disobedience, riots and war ensue to eradicate the menace . . . the American Revolution was fought for this very purpose and that’s undoubtedly why we’ll fight the next one.

We can’t enforce laws that create criminals out of law abiding, taxpaying, decent citizens. Marihuana is the number one crop grown and sold in America, yet it’s illegal nationwide, so millions of fine citizens knowingly break this law everyday in good conscience . . . and you thought it was just me. Millions of people every day engage in sex acts for money and thereby violate the law without inflicting themselves on anyone . . . unless that’s their fetish.

We must also accept that people have the inalienable right to be stupid and we have an equal right to reject them on that basis . . . and that’s where it ends. If you want to use drugs, buy or become a prostitute, have unprotected sex, smoke cigarettes, be a queer, ride a motorcycle without a helmet, tattoo your body like a wall in a gang neighborhood, drive without a seatbelt, or eat that greasy coconut buttered popcorn at the theater, knock yourself out, go for it, have a ball. Just maintain—don’t be wasted and driving, or out committing crimes to get your drugs. You can smoke cigarettes, but you can’t exhale them around me, because that invades my right not to smoke. You can play all the filthy Gangsta Rap music you want, but you don’t have the right to force me to listen to it by playing it at an earsplitting volume. If you’re a chick with tats, don’t expect me to do you.

With freedom comes responsibility, so there are no excuses . . . Jefferson uttered a truly insightful line not found in The Declaration of Independence when he rhetorically asked the ages: “If a man cannot be trusted with the government of himself, can he then be trusted with the government of others?” The problem with Democracy is that it fails to address the 49% of the people who have their rights legally denied by vote and yet have every righteous expectation that a democratic government should respect their rights as a matter of due course on the road to freedom. So until the ideology of Democracy evolves to this rarefied realm where acceptance, tolerance and respect are bestowed upon consenters as an undeniable right, our country is merely a despicable dictatorship of despotism by consensus . . .

NOW READ . . .
ONE DEGREE OF SEGREGATION
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