For Only The Love Of White Women

citronella“Because few Republican lawmakers have Muslim relatives. Few Republican lawmakers are of Mexican heritage. Few Republican lawmakers have faced discrimination based on the colour of their skin. But all of them have white female relatives. And therefore, when Trump talks about grabbing white women by the genitals, they can directly relate.”

http://www.bbc.com/news/election-us-2016-37595079

Pretty sad that only because folks in power, pretty much white guys with pretty much white wives, only because they envision another guy going after their own white wives, only then do they turn away from Mr. Trump. What this means  is that whatever might have been or has been said by Mr. Trump towards or about Muslims, or Mexicans, or persons of any color besides bleach white, these persons to the lawmakers—GOP or pretty much others, too—really do not count at all—certainly not enough to have pulled a chair out and said, “Enough!” What this points to is really the bigotry and racism of the ruling class itself, that only when the affront is felt personally by and personally towards them, only then does whatever is or has been said by Mr. Trump matter. Only then; otherwise, not.

Left wing, right wing=silly talk. Republican, Democrat=silly talk. Clinton, Trump=silly talk.

A Massive American Voting Sit-Out for the upcoming  presidential election by registered-to-vote Americans is the only reasonable way to make the power-grabbing, political-grabbing, money-grabbing world of mostly white and mostly entitled elites even possibly pause and question itself. Only when the folks in position actually feel that they might have something to lose—more than just a lewd hand-grab at their mostly white wives, ugh—only then, when the rest of humanity is seen and heard and felt and acknowledged as fully human, equally human, only then is any change even conceivably possible.

COME AND READ: http://egbertstarr.com/

Hecuba M. Sneath

money man close-up dc 2

Having understood the process by which the people had been elected, I had long stood my ground. I would have given no quarter, I would have not flinched, I would not have stepped aside. Readers of the Ark, transcribers of the Infidels, methodologists of Unity, behold yourselves, I had exclaimed. And all, like wooly lovers, had bowed their necks, their heads hanging low near the ground where the trampled grass had once grown. Truly, my at times pilfered run down the cinder path had been stupendous, my knees scarred here and there from my having tripped and healed later on. Still, I could proclaim quite loudly: My votes had been cast for you and for you and for you. Ah, though my chiasmatic cynicism rang like silent bells in the stars, I had successfully enslaved the bright lights of their imagined moments of universal fame household by household by household, like starving potato eaters crumpled around a tabletop too poor to really think on their own beyond the next starvation-sized portion of comestibles, heaps and heaps and heaps of them well-deceived into the sodden belief that they themselves would become earls, dukes, princes, queens, and kings.