Sunday, June 5, 2016

Special Editorial By Paul Kersey Author Of Stuff Black People Don't Like; - Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Prince, Muhammad Ali... Who We are Forced to Canonize in Death Shows America is Irredeemable

You can worship Muhammad Ali as some sort of deity in death... I'll take Chuck Wepner

De mortuis nil nisi bonum. 

Never speak ill of the dead, right? 


In what seems like a lifetime ago, I was a few years shy of even being eligible to get a learners permit to drive a car, but was on the verge of attending many events of the 1996 Olympic Games in Atlanta. 


One event not included on the itinerary was the Opening Games of the Olympics, where Muhammad Ali would show up and light the torch. It was the seminal moment of the Atlanta games, and one overshadowing all of the other moments. 

I didn't understand, as a burgeoning teenager, the lavish praise heaped upon Ali then, and I understand the sainthood he's somehow achieved even less now. 

But since the inception of SBPDL in 2009, some major black figures have died and it is in how their death is reported and how the news of their death is received by the American people that shows just how truly irredeemable America has become. 

Michael Jackson was a pedophile. 

Whitney Houston was a drug addict. 

Prince was a pervert, a degenerate unworthy of remembrance. 

Muhammad Ali was... a boxer?

Why do any of these people matter? Why are forced to believe their contributions in life somehow furthered western civilization? It's becoming increasingly obvious the baby boomer generation offered absolutely nothing of value save their slavish devotion to their own racial dispossession; it is in this devotion to worshiping people of the caliber of Jackson, Houston, Prince, and Ali that we truly understand America is irredeemable. 

Never, ever base social policy on individuals. That a Jackson, Houston, Prince or Ali existed does in no way offset what their racial comrades have done to the civilization white people built in cities like Gary, Indiana; Louisville, Kentucky; Minneapolis, Minnesota, or Newark, New Jersey (the various birthplaces of these black saints). 

What's left in Gary and Newark is the indelible mark of Africans in America; Minneapolis is well on it's way to being just another reminder of a formerly Nordic community overwhelmed by the African genome, and Louisville can thank its black population for virtually all the violent crime in the city. 


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