Monday, December 02, 2013
Move along folks, there's nothing to see.
Predictably, in this age of political correctness, many denounced simply reporting racist violence as inherently racist itself.
Joseph Farah at wnd.com
You've seen the videos. A six foot four, 225 pound, 17-year-old ninth-grader drops some white dude or dudette to the pavement with one surprise punch, to the cheers of his bruthus. The perps in the videos are not of Norwegian ancestry. A pattern suggests itself.
But all is well. The crime fighters of the left have the answer. The "knockout game" doesn't exist. It's not allowed. It's a sick fantasy. Serial assaults on random whites can't exist outside the tiny but hyperactive minds of unredeemed bigots. Their evidence? It's as obvious as the heartbreak of melanin deficiency: another Racist-Nazi conspiracy is afoot. Even emergency medical folks are in on it. Have they no shame?
According to the keepers of the Liberal flame, it's just Yoots being Yoots..
What's up with their "move along folks, nothing to see here"? Easy. The aging game of paying the feral to mimic normal life isn't working. The younger perps have discovered they're entitled to money-fo-nuthin either way. Now they're playing their own games. The left is too entranced by their received truth to notice they're being bitten by their own dog. A few understand even a little wakefulness would unzip the whole farcical contraption. There'd be no do-over. So they trot out the "truthiness" routine, a sort of rhetorical duct tape, what we used to call "everybody knows" as kids. Pathetic, but it's all they have.
Meanwhile, news media still loyal to the cause align like iron filings under a magnet and tell us the victims, not the perps, were "in the wrong place at the wrong time." No they weren't, the victims were where they should be, doing what they should be doing. They say the victims are chosen at random. No they aren't. They choose white people, and not just any white people, unwary and vulnerable white people. It's the whole point of the game. Ask 'em. It's their game and their name, but excuse us for noticing.