Rollin' Like Sisyphus

El Oso Presidente Anda Suelto

Posted in A Chronicle Of Decline, Our Simple Affirmative Action President by Huckleberry on November 20, 2014
Naturally Conservative Constituency...

Natural conservatives in the wilderness…

Estamos en mierda?
Si.
Si.
Dulce amnistia!
Viva la Raza, chingados!
Sorry, figured I’d embrace the new cultural paradigm now and avoid the rush.
So tonight’s the night – only network covering the Big Announcement is Univision, but I’m sure that’s just a coincidence and not a cynical design to laud the plan to his new slave class constituency while hiding it from those he desperately wishes to replace.
I’m sure everything’s above board here, and that there’s nothing to worry about.
So basically, Our Simple Affirmative Action President is going to declare that he isn’t going to deport 5 to 6 million illegals among the 11 to 13 million illegals he also has no intention of deporting; plus green cards to all of their families; plus work documents for themselves and apparently everyone they’ve ever known; and basically COL raises for our demoralized Border Patrol agents, along with copies of Clash of Clans for their government-issued smartphones, because this President loves nothing more than accidental irony; plus some other shit that adds up to a big fuck off and die.
The best part is where there’s nothing the supposed Opposition Party can or will do about it.
Technically, they could withhold funding (but they won’t because they’re too scared of taking blame), they could block all presidential appointments (but they won’t for the same reason) or they could draft articles of impeachment and see if enough senators can be shamed into convicting the feckless thug (but they won’t, because they’re both afraid of the blame and sure they can’t convict).
So that’s that.
For me, personally, Hell let’s just get it over with already.
We’ve had one foot across the threshold to civic Armageddon for a while now, and it’s time to either shit or get off the pot, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.
Not to say that this is a good thing – I’m sure you all understand that this is very much not. But the pundits keep acting like the Point of No Return is still up ahead of us and that if we just step off the path we’ll be A-OK.
Sorry.
Look behind you.
With binoculars.
The Point of No Return was quite a few stops back. The only rational option left is to keep going through Hell.
At a certain point, they will begin eating each other in earnest.
To wit:

Val Rust’s dissertation-prep class had devolved into a highly charged arena of competing victim ideologies, impenetrable to anyone outside academia. For example: Were white feminists who use “standpoint theory”—a feminist critique of allegedly male-centered epistemology—illegitimately appropriating the “testimonial” genre used by Chicana feminists to narrate their stories of oppression? … Other debates centered on the political implications of punctuation. Rust had changed a student’s capitalization of the word “indigenous” in her dissertation proposal to the lowercase, thus allegedly showing disrespect for the student’s ideological point of view… During one of these heated discussions, Rust reached over and patted the arm of the class’s most vociferous critical race–theory advocate to try to calm him down—a gesture typical of the physically demonstrative Rust, who is prone to hugs. The student, Kenjus Watson, dramatically jerked his arm away, as a burst of nervous energy coursed through the room.

Good luck, y’all.

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3 Responses

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  1. El Borak said, on November 20, 2014 at 13:29

    Well then, there seems to be nothing left to do than to smell along with the end of Western Civilization.

    • Huckleberry said, on November 20, 2014 at 14:45

      In the long run, certainly, and probably also the short run.
      And thanks for that, by the way.

      • El Borak said, on November 20, 2014 at 16:50

        You’re welcome. I figured you’d want to file that away in case you change the theme to “Music that never should have been made Friday”

        I promise to give you one tomorrow that will drive it out of your head. Or at least provide a covering smell.


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