Why We Need Racial Profiling

 

Ask any police officer, any city, and he'll tell you how important it is to be able to use all the tools at his disposal to find criminals. And not just the scientific, forensic ones given so much glamour on shows like CSI or Bones. A suspect's appearance, including any visible ethnic identity, is critical for law enforcement when hunting down dangerous felons or those suspected of violent crime. When you take that away from police, you endanger all people of all backgrounds in a community. And no one wins.

Two current cases involving the controversy of "profiling" have made news on both sides of the 49th parallel, and the reaction to them underlines why police must be encouraged and our lawmakers forced to recognize and allow the use racial profiling as a weapon in crime-fighting. And to hell with any hurt feelings.

One that has made international news is the arrest of a black professor named Henry Gates, who, after having trouble getting into his home, was arrested by Cambridge, Massachusetts police who didn't take too kindly to his alleged warning "You don't want to mess with me." The other, on our side of the border, involves a Toronto constable hassled by a Draconian "Human Rights" star chamber who found him "guilty" of racial profiling. Toronto Police Chief William Blair said the decision will be challenged in court.

Let's look at the American case first: After Professor Gates was arrested and raised holy hell about it in the local, and later national, news media. the maverick black president Barack Obama took some time out of his televised health care conference last week to claim, without any of the available facts at his disposal, that the Cambridge cops "acted stupidly." This from a guy who, with his bungling of everything from finance to health care to Lord knows how many departmental "czars," has turned Washington into a Kremlin Lite. His comments brought another firestorm of criticism that underlined how the status race in America has changed. Obama shuffled back just days later, offering his version of a mea culpa to the officer who came under attack — a beer at the White House. The damage was done. The whole scene revealed a new perception among growing numbers of resentful whites nationwide, a perception of of special rights for blacks, a priority especially now that the USA has a black man in the White House elected by women and race traitors.

In Canada, the obsession with multiculturalism has come back to bite us all on the rump, with Human Rights Commissions and tribunals, where, just as the criteria for "hate crimes/speech" charges is, truth is no defense; if you're white, you're wrong, go get on your knees or else. In the Canadian case, a black Canadian was confronted by a Toronto cop who happened to be white on the city's Bridle Path. After the HRC decision, Chief Blair remarked "Their finding demonstrates a seriously flawed misunderstanding of the duties of a police officer."

Indeed. Cops, ever since the seventies when the Canadian immigration and multiculturalism ministries wrecked traditional immigration from Europe and flooded our cities with non-whites (and threatening jail, fines and financial ruin to any who opposed it), have been in a bad way. It's a no-win situation: be polite when you stop a non-white and maybe risk getting killed, or take caution, approach the suspect with carefulness, and get your keester hauled before the local matriarchal race- fuzz.

We need profiling, period. It's bad enough the controlled media all but refuses to identify suspects for dangerous crimes by race, but when our ostriches at City Hall, Queen's Park and Parliament Hill see the facts of growing non-white crime ( the perpetrators of which many of them brought here) refuse to see the urgent need for it, then it becomes a safety issue that literally threatens all people of all races. It's get on the horn and the Internet time again — contact your lawmakers and demand that police be allowed to use racial profiling when hunting for dangerous criminals. The rights of the public to be safe always trump the rights of the accused, innocent as he may be (that's why we have courts. Let's cut the midnight basketball and useless "diversion" programs and put the handcuffs on the criminals, not our police.
_________________

Bob's TV TIPS:

SHAQ VS. ... It's you-know-who O'Neal challenging other famous athletes like Serena Williams and Oscar de la Hoya, trying to beat them at their own games. Guess he was rejected for Space Jam 2 (ABC, Tuesday, August 18)

THE CLEANER: Law & Order alumnus Benjamin Bratt plays a one-man addiction intervention squad whose techniques are more Dirty Harry than Dr. Phil-like. (A&E Tuesdays 10 pm)

 

 

I'm Another Moon Landing Skeptic!

 

"Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars,
Let me know what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars..."

Remember that old karaoke favorite? It first came out in 1954, fifteen years before they say we actually did it.

Yep, "they say" we did it. It was hailed as the greatest achievement of mankind, and if you were watching TV at the time, that was all that was on TV. We're familiar with the iconic images of that "triumph" — astronauts saluting an American flag supposedly blowing in wind that does not exist on the moon, against a totally black, starless outer space, but perfectly lit in an image that would make Hollywood special effects legend Ray Harryhausen proud. We even got a footprint up there, but mysteriously, no crater that should have been formed on the moon's surface by the landing of the module. And on Monday July 27, we celebrate the 40th anniversary of Apollo 11. Yet, NASA and the jarheads in Washington now have explanations for all those apace mysteries, and just in time to answer those impertinent "crackpots" prior to the celebration/anniversary of "Man On The Moon."

I'm from Missouri, and I have my doubts about whether we really did go to the moon, and given the obscene amount of dough spent on that "program" by Washington while poverty raged across America, and the billions later thrown into space for rockets, satellites, Star Wars weaponry and probes to of all places, Mars, when there's so much crud that needs our attention here on Earth; as Marvin the Martian might say, I am very angry indeed. The US lied about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. They lied about Vietnam. They lied about Pearl Harbor and its survivors. And in all three cases, billions were spent and needless death, destruction and tragedy followed.

The "Cold War" — one of the supposed reasons America launched space exploration, was a dog-and-pony show, a B.S.- laden post-war exercise and game played with gusto by players like JFK. Khrushchev, Castro and others, which carried on into the 1980's with Ronnie Reagan making nice with Mikhail Gorbachev. It seemed to be over, until just a while ago, when the “ZOG media” began to bang the war gong again, not just to provoke Muslim nations who just want to be left alone to pray and run their countries how they please, but also to engage in another excuse to prepare for another genocidal possible superpower conflict — one whose worst-case scenario ends in the destruction of all life on our planet.

Another factor was the taxpayers' money spent: $30 billion is a helluva chunk of change just to see what's doing on a foreign celestial body, and you can bet there were cries for results at the Pentagon, from the White House and even the then-big three TV networks who sold commercial time. And, there was America's false-promise war in Vietnam and all the bloodshed and civil unrest opposition to that disaster; Washington needed a distraction from all the fallout, and what better than a bunch of squeaky-clean astronauts like Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin fulfilling the dreams of Buck Rogers (more on Armstrong in a bit). The whole thing was made-to-order for Hollywood — and “wowsers,” did they ever cash in: Apollo 13. From The Earth to the Moon (TV Series), Space Cowboys, even Star Trek and its myopic vision of a universe where everybody makes nice and a hideous blob can have a soul, all came from America's hedonistic masturbatory affair with outer space.

The most common stories I've heard said that the "moon landing" was actually done on a sound stage in Hollywood (another version of that really happened claims it was taped in the Nevada desert). Yet, NASA and the US government seem to have a plausible explanation for every incongruity that a keen eye can find in all the footage and images we associate with Apollo 11 (I've already dealt with some of them; see above paragraph). Now, forty years later, we have new "enhanced" footage of the grainy tape recorded by NASA chronicling that great feat (the original footage has somehow "disappeared." Ain't technology grand? Yeah, Apollo did wonders for techno-geeks, the companies they work for and their stockholders, not to mention defense contractors and companies who manufactured and sold rockets, surveillance satellites, space weapons, space stations. It made the warmongers' jobs easier of selling the ever-present threats to the USA from all over and why America must not only have weapons supremacy on Earth but in outer space, as well. After all, you never know when some unknown survivor of Krypton might decide to take over Earth.... and besides, even when you consider the astronauts killed by the space program when things went “blowy-uppy,” it's a small price to pay to try to make people respect America again, right?

For every dangerous mission, you need a hero. And who better than the shy publicity-avoiding Neil Armstrong. He was the perfect image of the American hero, the smart, yet American-ideal Ohio-born man from America's heartland was perfect. Once he came back from the moon and had his little parade, there was little we saw of him, as access to him was ever-so tightly-regulated, as he said all the right phrases and displayed an aw-shucks quasi-naive attitude of the quintessential American hero — or perhaps more appropriately, a Manchurian Candidate that the smart US government boys only let out in the light for certain reasons and only for a limited time.

Tragedies like the Columbia disaster gave the space program a black eye, but it healed fast enough to allow for more money to be tossed into space. It's a double shame: The needless expenditure of countless billions and billions to throw humans and metal debris in space (some of which falls to Earth after wearing out), along with the strong possibility that the US space program, far from being the noble mega-project it is, seeking to expand Man's knowledge of the beyond (just why do we have to know everything, anyway?), is an obscene sham used to justify the militarization of space and the exploitation of it via communications satellites et al, just so women can text and twitter to their heart's content. Or, so we can all risk cancer from cell phones, or watch kick-boxing from Las Vegas or a U2 concert while billions of humans starve in the freezing cold without shelter.

Bottom line? The US, rotting away in Washington, on Wall Street (despite the new pundits' optimism), in its large, ravaged-by-poverty-and crime cities and in small ones where jobs have been shipped out of the country for Third World wages, and factories are gone, is again trying to show the world that it's still nation numero uno, even if it means further embellishing a lie that has been met with everything from growing skepticism when challenged to violence (Astronaut Buzz Aldrin allegedly punched an author of a book that challenged the moon landing taking place). The US is both showing anger and harboring fear that its Wizard Of Oz curtain will soon be pulled back to reveal the frail old man that, like America and its withering empire, is on its last legs.

That's bad news for the heroes of America today, from its mercenary soldiers to its technocrat torturers to its sleazy politicians. Their days of movie matinee hunks and partying and American Idols and Dr. Pepper are numbered.

Question everything, people — including your greatest "accomplishments."
 

 

Michael Jackson: A Feminist Icon Gone

 

I come not to praise Michael Jackson, and since he's already buried, sort of, well, bear with me.

We all saw and heard about Michael Jackson's sudden death; from the moments that the news channels announced the ambulance showing up at his home, and Michael Jackson's dying body being carted to the hospital, and the announcement of his death on the afternoon of June 25. We all endured the non-stop coverage, news specials and exposes that saturated TV until the afternoon of July 7th, and for days beyond that — a non-stop circus of pseudo-reverence and craziness that was not even at the level of that of the moon landing, the wedding and death of Princess Diana, or even the death and funeral of John Kennedy.

All this for a “minstrel.” Not a humanitarian who gave most of his fortune to really help people, not a man who cured cancer or who managed to end a world war, but just a man who sang and danced and who, at many times in his life, engaged in the sort of behavior that would land you or I in prison or in a mental institution.

Michael Jackson barely lived fifty years. He grew up exploited (willingly, and obscenely well-paid) by the TV and recording industries, allegedly abused by his father, and ending up a confused, disturbed, frail man before dying an ugly, undignified death, and whose only real legacy is being measured by those in charge of Motown Records, Sony Music, and all those who profited from him (and will continue to). Even in death, his memorial was an eerie farce. One of the first things commentators acknowledged were the large patches of empty seats in the Staples Center where the service was held. The helicopter shots of Jackson's hearse and motorcade seemed to miss the crowds of fans we were told would be in the area... there were no massive crowds I saw lining the roadways from the church to the stadium venue. All morning, everyone from the Los Angeles police chief to people who allegedly knew Jackson were quizzed by news anchors on the "preparedness" of L.A. for any trouble from thousands of potentially grief-stricken fans maybe wanting a splinter to take home from the "King of Pop's" coffin. In one camera shot on the large black sign inside the stadium (I don't know if it was bad lighting or a creepy image deliberately left), only Jackson's pearly smile peered out at the audience, next to his name. After some solemn words, the service became a Michael's Greatest Hits Cover Party , with contributions from Mariah Carey, Lionel Ritchie, Usher, Queen Latifah, and Smokey Robinson, to name a few (at any moment I expected the voice of Danny Glover, imploring me to "Get this once in a lifetime tribute to the King of Pop on DVD or Blu-Ray, Order NOW!").

Maybe the saddest, most ticked-off people alive were the Zionists whose plans for the world were put on hold so we could all have a two-and-a-half-week cry-in for the Gloved One. New York Representative Pete King called him a pervert (while heaping praise on the US soldier-killers in Afghanistan). Not even these all-powerful elites could have predicted, as North Korea was testing missiles, China would be brutally suppressing the Uighars and as Sarah Palin would begin to pack it in as Alaska governor, that a drug-soaked Michael Jackson would keel over, die and knock everything off the news for days to come.

And as for Michael Joseph Jackson? As he grew from a darling of whites to an ego-driven, spoiled man who had to rely on gravity-defying shoes and other special effects to augment a thinning, poisoned body, just why did so many women elevate him to status just below godhood? If anything, the obscene level of mourning and sorrow at his death revealed the extent of the self-loathing that whites have had pounded into them for decades all over the world. It is a disease that they, and most of those in the music business, are still passing down to their children. So what if he sold more records than any other musician? His very life away from the microphone was a train wreck; he had more appearances, skin hues, religious affiliations and legal hassles than the entire cast of a 1960's Hollywood Biblical classic. He endangered the life of his toddler. His image as a humanitarian — all window dressing, played for the willing cameras and as tightly-controlled as his dance routines. Even the aftermath, with the ugly struggle for "his" kids, and the scandals over who will get his estate and who (if any) fed him the drugs that eventually killed him, is a disgrace.

Of those who should be singled out for special Jerk of the Millennium Award nominations, there is the potty-mouthed Debbie Rowe, who leeched her way to fame and fortune as a shameless harridan who got her way-long-past-fifteen minutes of fame, and who later snarled at the cameras when it came time for the lawyers and trustees to throw the spoils of Jackson's wealth (and his debts) at the circling vultures. Indeed, Jackson was the epitome of the matriarchal ideal of the black man, non-threatening, effeminate, about as macho as a doily; the closest he ever came in his videos to appearing "masculine" were those portraying him as a gang member or the "smooth gangster."

White women have been swooning over "black" entertainers for decades, despite the fact that they aren't really exclusively black. On the East Coast of the United States 11% of "Afro-Americans" are white. while on the West Coast, the figure is 22%. They certainly aren't as full-blooded African as the Bantu or Mandingo tribes, despite their ability to transfer rhythm and quick movement to their performances. None of Jackson's own kids are biologically his, yet his family managed to have the tear-filled white daughter claim what a great daddy Michael was before collapsing into the arms of her "aunts" LaToya and Janet: Heaven knows what those kids' lives were like away from the tightly-managed media access.

Let's face it, Michael Jackson's death was a bad day for black people, race-mixers, many white women and teens of both genders, hedonists, one-worlders, and perverts of almost every stripe who, having already been infected with the self-loathing disease of anti-racism, saw their Messiah fall. They saw that for all his fame, his alleged talent, and all the "goodness" that has been endowed upon his character, that he was human, capable of ruining his own life, the lives of others, and of manipulating people to his will and to serve the whims of his fragile ego. So large was that ego that with a frail, sick body that he continued to abuse as those closest to him just didn't have the courage to stop his self-ruination, he still planned to make even more millions with one more "This Is It" concert tour. At his rehearsal. recorded just days before his death, he looked stiff and pained, contrary to what the media wags cooed as they played the tape; he was definitely out of it, and not in control.

Now, he is dead — a feminist icon only to be remembered by a ruined gender in search of the next "non-threatening" man who can dance. Michael Jackson now lies alone in a grave, and hopefully, we can all go back to thinking about the real things that are more important. Like the reality of addressing world war and its real causes, poverty, the corrupt in power, and the evil of crime, among other matters.

Michael Jackson, this was it for you. Now let's all get back to life, okay?

 

POST SCRIPT: Many people credit the creation of the Moonwalk to the late Mr. Jackson. I advise them to get a copy of the vintage 1944 Western Texas Masquerade, starring William Boyd as Clarence Mulford's lariat-swingin' cowboy Hopalong Cassidy. Twice in that film, you will see Boyd and another actor stepping an interesting dance uncannily resembling that famous foot-slide that Jackson did decades later.

Or just check out the nightly Hopalong Cassidy feature at 6 pm ET on Canada's Silver Screen Classics channel.
------------------------

BOB'S TV Corner

TV Tips: (all times listed are Eastern; check local listings)

TV Scuttlebutt: E! Canada Viewers in Toronto/Hamilton (where it was formerly CH), get your channels expanded or say goodbye to E! shows; new owners Channel Zero (Silver Screen Classics. Movieola) will turn CH into a hybrid news-and-movies station come September.
 

 

One Strike, You're Out

 

"We're a fist, that's what this is, and that's what we are!"
— Sylvester Stallone in F.I.S.T. (1978)

Okay, you're not a union movie buff — how about some headlines from the 2009 Toronto Strike's first few days?

"THIS STINKS!" — Toronto Sun, June 22 (first day); "People are furious, absolutely furious," "No hope of settling strike this week — Union" — Globe and Mail, June 23; "A City simmers..." — Toronto Star. June 23; "Obey Pickets, City says"— National Post, June 24

Ahh, for those idyllic days when the working man was incorruptible, and those in charge of unions were the only bulwark against tyrannical fat-cat management out to screw them eight ways from Sunday. Hollywood's Zionist producers and studio owners earned a pretty penny idolizing the union in flicks like F.I.S.T. and Hoffa. Unfortunately, the real life of unions, what their agendas are these days and how they can regularly literally hold us all to ransom, are different stories.

The Toronto civic strike is two weeks old and every politico is saying  that progress is being made to end it — be patient, we don't want back-to-work legislation, we'll get this over-with ... one day. The unions are saying: screw the public, we'll risk a health emergency, waah, waah waah. 

 

Meanwhile, we're stuck with stinking garbage piles looked on by angry trendies who are watching places like Christie Pits turn into New York garbage barges with grass, along with confrontations from angry citizens with picketers, and the growing danger to the health of the city from disease, pollution and rats.

 

Let's get something straight right off the bat. I am in favor of unions as a source and a fair partner in collective bargaining with businesses and/or government. I even once was a member of the SEIU. But we Torontonians have already been placed at the edge of the plank by the Amalgamated Transit Workers not too long ago, and now Toronto is in the middle of a summer strike by its outside workers. The beef? Nothing new; just banked sick-days and a bigger piece of a recession-shrunk pie. These vultures want more, more, more, while others are surviving on McDonald's and Purina Cat Chow. These lying, duplicitous union head yappers who moan about not getting a fair deal from government are the same two-faced clowns of the labour movements in Canada and the USA who allowed the treacherous free trade deals to swing through that were the first kicks in the shin leading to the collapse of our economy And they also supported the multiculturalism/ open immigration policies that allowed the Third World to come in and get jobs at crappy wages for more corporate profits. Now, after being silent for decades, they hold a knife to Toronto's throat; well, damn them, damn them all.

The City doesn't get off Scot-free either: a report in the July 4 Toronto Star revealed that Toronto's idiotic green bin program that began in 2002 is producing compost that can kill grass and plants due to its high salt content, and that before the strike, a combination of bureaucracy, stupid provincial environmental rules, rushing through the composting process (preventing it from being turned into a high-nutrient soil conditioner and left as toxic glop), and contracting out disposing organic waste to private firms has "forced the City" to stockpile 3,000 tons of organics in transfer stations, led us to where we are today. With so much open space in Canada, our garbage still gets carted off at our cost to US cities like Detroit; from Toronto's pocket to America's, that's free trade in action.

This town loves to boast through "its"  government how environmentally conscious it is. "Green Toronto" — in a pig's eye!  The cutting-corners measures were according to the Star supposed to boost the numbers that would have made the City's recycling and disposal programs look successful. The Star termed them a sham, and right they are.  Hey, I'm sure you're loving risking handling dirty water, blades, poop, rotten mac-and-cheese, caustic substances, kitty litter, etc. , aren't you?

King David Miller dropped the ball so well on this one; after winning two terms of office, being palsy-walsy with the Left and the unions, (not to mention being terrified of a city council so Red in ideology it makes Lenin look like a Reform Party flack), he took a hands-off role before and now, during the strike. When I ran for Mayor, I got an earful from those of Ward 17 Councilor Cesar Placio's ward about his neglect of his incompetence, and disregard of his constituents. This guy had the cojones to yap in a Toronto Sun column about all the skyscrapers that weren't going up due to no building permits being issued. And, with the City financially belly up, he suggested rebates of garbage fees after the strike, based on non-pickups (What game show do you intend to win the millions to pay for that idea, Cesar?).

Let's face it, garbagemen already get plenty in pay and benefits — and we have to do half of what they used to! Sorting plastics from paper from compost from food and liquid goo, each one in a differently-colored bin or barrel, then shipping it out to who knows where ("it ain't our problem now"); Lord knows what that's cost the city, whatever the budget says and however you crunch the numbers. 

Let's end this strike, now,  before people get sick, bitten by rats or other wildlife the trash attracts or God forbid, end up in hospital or a graveyard. Order the workers back to work, and jail or fine any defiance of a back-to-work order, hell, get the army back from Afghanistan to clean up the city. if need be. If we can get $834 million for streetcars while we still have a filthy, crime-ridden and dangerous TTC that needs cleaning and policing, we can put some dough into cleaning up our trash operations — and that includes dealing with extortion artists like CUPE.

Oh yeah, and put pressure on your councilor to have trash pickup made a necessary service, like police and firefighters. Got a beef, CUPE? Okay, here's a table, let's talk it out like always, but you stay on the job. Why should you walk out and get perks when the rest of us (who are still at a job) are suffering without bankable sick days, and doing half your job as it is? The public's anger at you is going to sizzle long after the summer's gone. The more arrogant you get, the zero sympathy you'll engender for years to come.

Grow up, CUPE, and end this nonsense.

 

———————————-

BOB'S TV CORNER

TV TIPS (all times are Eastern; check local listings):

THE GREAT AMERICAN ROAD TRIP (Tues. July 7 8 pm). Yawn, its NBC's version of Amazing Race with SUV's, and a $100,000 prize foe the last family standing.

NOW (PBS, Fridays, check local listings) A great half-hour dealing with American issues and political topics from poverty to war; the kind of thing you only see in five-minute segments on the nightly network news.

LAW & ORDER: UK (City-TV, Thursdays at 10) Okay, it isn't the original, it doesn't have any of Mike Post's gritty music and stings, but it's as well-done as the US version and follows the L&O format with a Brit accent —and it is produced by show creator Dick Wolf.

TV Scuttlebutt:  The Sci-Fi Channel in the US hopes to revive Alien Nation, the late-eighties film that had a brief run as a series on Fox. It was a buddy cop movie/series about a detective with an alien partner. It's part of a mini-trend on TV that will see a new version of the alien-invasion series V this coming season on ABC.

 

 

Gay Pride Parade: Open Window Whorehouse!

 

When the Toronto strike began to take the city hostage (I'll soon have something to say on this, soon, you betcha), I thought that one casualty of it would be most of the events of "Pride Week." I was wrong.

For the naive among you, PW is the week-long series of events, parades and the Devil-knows-what-else that goes on once a year here in the Big Smoke, devoted to the (ahem) culture of gays, lesbians, trans-genders, drag queens, trisexuals, and Gee-that-floor-lamp's-lookin'-good crowd. It's become so much a part of the mainstream in Toronto and across this land, that its organizers have even dropped the word "Gay" from its' original title.

 

And so, your humble scribe headed for the steamy summer confines of Toronto's Yonge Street on June 28 for the wind-up parade (no jokes, please). I wanted to see if the Fetish-Fest lived up to all the hype, only to have my suspicions confirmed: the Pride parade was (and is) an open window whorehouse, so reflective of the matriarchal society that is Canada today — one in need of overhaul, and soon.

Sitting in my pre-parade perch at McDonald's on Yonge near College, I saw the whole street decked out in rainbow Gay Pride flags: Mickey D's, however, decided to stick to its usual red and brown and yellow. It's drizzling on and off, and Toronto paramedics beforehand were warned by the provincial labor board to be on hand to tend to the ow-ies that any gay folks picked up. The first thing that struck me as the many floats sailed passed was the unbridled lack of shame exhibited by the near-naked men or many races and nationalities: (guys who were "in shape" were boogying with Pillsbury Doughboys and elderly men. Of the foreign floats, Uganda was first, followed later by "Positivo Latinos!" (that's HIV-positive gay men), all showing their flags from places like Argentina and Brazil, shucking and jiving and stripped down almost to their birthday suits. I was glad I didn't order a Sausage McMuffin.

 

In fairness, the costumes were colorful, and the entire gay spectrum had a float or two: transsexuals, drag queens, Proud Parents of Gays, etc. not too many of the leather Village People biker Nazis this year, although there were dykes on bikes (a Pride Parade favorite, judging by the tweeting to whistles and screams from both genders. About halfway through I saw the raison d'etre for the growth, acceptance and economic and political clout of homosexuals for the last four decades: The floats of the United and Anglican Churches, both denominations run by women (ergo, pro-homo) since before they were imported here from Merrie Olde England (One boomed out through the loudspeakers — I guess no one this year had the dough to hire or form a band — Shania Twain's Man I Feel Like A Woman). In feminine-run and feminized societies, gay men are the inevitable result, the next step down from the gal-friendly harmless "metrosexuals" that they coo over so much nowadays.

The hedonism and arrogance from the early days of gaydom in the USA (as set off by the famous Stonewall riots in New York City) grew like The Blob to a deviant worldwide pseudo-lifestyle, where fun, fun, fun is the norm and a revulsion among gays against children is part of a hidden agenda that is only now starting to come out. The Green Party had a float, but chickened out on the rainbow flag, opting for a flag with just many shades of green.

The Pride Parade was indeed a happy affair despite the rain; even the lesbians were smiling, looking as happy as Madonna. In the thick of it was our Mayor Dave Miller. With stories of strike-abandoned garbage piling up everywhere and the stench citywide being as common on the local news as the lottery winning numbers, His Nibs still showed up in pink shirt grinning like a hyena. The media, especial Rogers' City-TV and CTV's CP24 news channel couldn't get enough. the latter running parade coverage into the early evening (they ran the parade twice).

People from all over — Europe, Mexico and even Rochester, New York — made the journey to see the Toronto Pride parade. So entrenched is homosexuality and its many deviant deviations in Canadian society that the organizers were able to get away with its most arrogantly- worded theme for 2009: "Can't Stop, Won't Stop." About half of the paraders I noticed were non-white and I found it interesting that the lead-off float was to promote open gay rights in Uganda. Gay cops, gay firemen, gay military personnel, all had their ride in the rain, and even a small contingent from SEIU, my former union, "strutted their stuff."

The growth of gay communities, along with the special rights and legal privileges being given to them (including recognition/legalization of civil unions and gay marriage) in North America, is of great concern. The steady and sneaky eradication of the nuclear family by the "ZOG"-wrecked economy, and its promotion by the controlled media, bodes ill for all of us. Growing up in Toronto, I was never aware of homosexuality even existing in Canada until a 1967 episode of the old CBC drama Wojeck that focused on gays (who then, really had to "get a room" until Pierre Trudeau and his Liberals decriminalized homosexuality just a few years later). Gay life became the stuff of double-entendres in sitcoms like Three's Company and when disco became the rage, gay, bisexual and gender-bending "artists" like the Village People, Boy George, the New York Dolls, Lou Reed, David Bowie, Elton John and Melissa Etheridge became rich chart-toppers. A whole separate economy was gay-market-oriented, just as it was for blacks and Latinos. And the media sympathy train was chugging full-speed ahead, getting steam from incidents like Stonewall, the killing of San Francisco's Harvey Milk (Hollywood squeezed two films out of that) and of course, the outbreak of AIDS.

Today, homosexuality has hit its apex, and has nowhere to go but down. Yet it is still in the mainstream, a dangerous development that is accepted as much as multiculturalism. Major cities celebrate gay pride with parades much like Toronto's, where everyone has a damn good time and women unconcerned with the future of the white people gyrate right along with these "non-threatening" males — "no breeding needed," just dance the night away. The religious denominations that have strayed away from the part of Christianity that made homosexuality a no-no right from Genesis (It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve), support it to the hilt and support and march for gay rights (not that there's many left to fight for now). The harridan-run churches are among the biggest obstacles when opposing homosexuality, not to mention the idiotic and treacherous laws and governments who have all but made heterosexuality as much a taboo and a source of ridicule as homosexuality once was.

The status of homosexuality, and how we think of those who practice it, is something we need to think about and re-think hard — for the sake of all our futures.

And that may just well be the one mixed blessing of Pride Week.
 

 

God Takes a Back Seat in Catholicism

 

Catholics — remember Catholic school? I do. I remember it as a major part of my youth. I remember the mystery, awe and yes, respect of religion, the sacraments, and the tradition and reverence involved. Long before I ever uttered a word in this nation's other official language, I was phonetically reciting in Latin the Pater Noster (Our Father) Agnus Dei (Lamb of God), and sang Christmas holy carols like Adeste Fideles (Oh Come All Ye Faithful). And there was Catholic school, where a wise, lovable Going-My-Way-type priest was balanced with a younger priest and the terror of Immaculate Heart of Mary school. Mother St. Mary, who tolerated no insolence and was not above smacking a Grade One student with a strap. Catholicism taught me morals. It gave me balance and strength during the hard times of my life. It made me a better person. I believe that having a sense of spirit is critical for all Mankind.

I wasn't too happy when "Vatican II" came to be and things began to change in the Church. Nuns dropped their proper habits to wear dark suits and skirts. The beauty of the ancient hymns was replaced by bearded clowns strumming guitars, and the ancient Latin mass was replaced by English. Positions such as abortion on demand and women priests were not only not punished by threat of excommunication, but were tolerated and left to fester. The whole religion was diluted and destroyed into a pro-Red touchy-feely Humanist Lite cult devoid of encouraging personal discipline, and, as tragic events unfolded, also tolerant of the most aberrant sexual behavior among priests (not to mention the cover-ups and a wrist-slapping Pope). Just recently the news focused on a Miami priest who was caught snugglin' his honey and who, after getting the heave-ho and defecting to the Episcopal Church went and married her; way to be there for your congregation, Father Funboy.

Oh yeah, morality and compassion are so gone from modern Catholicism. When was the last time you heard anyone, from Pope Benedict on down to any head of any archdiocese, condemn the torture and degradation Americans have inflicted on their "enemy combatant" prisoners, or scream blue murder to shut down the torture chambers at Abu Ghraib or Guantanamo? It's almost like they were back in the days of the Inquisition; the levels of torture and human degradation are pretty much the same then and now.

After "the troubles" settled in Northern Ireland, there's been no real renewal of Catholicism, no priests out there in the streets as activists for the Catholic faith; they’re too busy prostrating themselves to the occupiers; internationally, Catholic values and so-called organizations and spokes people are duds.

Today, whatever Catholicism is and how it is practiced, is nothing like it used to be. It has abandoned tradition, sacrament and its liturgy and purpose for a facade of hipness, and is a scandal-ridden, corrupted shadow of its former self. And that, sadly, applies to its congregants. The 82-year-old Pope Benedict XVI is more like a Benedict Arnold, shutting out the traditionalists who want to see that religion's heritage upheld and its traditions restored to the liturgy. The white man's position in the Church? Forget it. Today's it's only the non-white old women using the Catholic Church to push for economic gain and advantage for South American and Filipino women — but considering Catholics' role in bringing multiculturalism and the Third World to Canada, that's not surprising. The soviet European Union is a-okay with them. And there are no calls I heard from the Pope advising major world powers to stop meddling in places like Iran, Iraq and Pakistan.

And there is such a lack of anger over the recent rash stabbings and other attacks in and around churches, there's no desire to speak out against the violence; like the many priest sex scandals, the procedure is to ignore and/or deny it or sweep it under the rug-

Catholicism — quo vadis? Until there is a renaissance and a return from feminism, Leftist agendas and Third World favoritism, I can't say much in its favor, except to impart an old greeting from its Latin mass: Dominus vobiscum, et cum spiritu tuo (The Lord be with you, and with your spirit).

 

 

Teachers...They're The WORST!

 

ed-u-ca-tion :

From the Latin "Educa" — "to breed, bring up or rear," the process or art of imparting knowledge, skill and judgment (from WikiDictionary)

 

Teachers — they're the worst!

Say it loud, I'm peeved and not proud.

Seen your kid's report card lately? Aside from not being that little piece of cardboard we all dreaded getting three times a year, it's a great way to prove how incompetent, greedy, propagandizing and just plain rotten the so-called "educators" (the misnomer of the new century) are.

Ask your kids what they learned in school today. Can they recite the capitals of all ten Canadian provinces? Or at least ten U.S. state capitals? Or a few world capitals? To them, was Christopher Columbus still the man credited with discovering America or nothing more than "an evil white exploiter of natives?"

That's just the tip of the iceberg. Teachers these days are an active lot — whining and threatening to strike with alarming frequency, always yapping over leftist cause and non-white crisis, pushing anti-family agendas, pro-gay garbage, women's lib, and travesty of travesties, politically correct history (e.g., nationalism is bad — it caused the Holocaust™; Castro liberated Cuba; the whites who died in the Old West from Indian massacres got what they deserved, etc.). Even the lying kosher Fox News Channel's Fox & Friends morning show has an ongoing project where they ask viewers to send in politically-correct/false history books to challenge the publishers and the teachers disseminating B.S. to kids.

 

Things are the same up here. Once, teachers (and even the vice-principal) were respected authority figures. They did their jobs, they didn't whine about their wages or the god-awful situations in Africa. They didn't worry about planning their next frequent-flyer vacation or maybe retiring on a sunny beach just like on insurance and Viagra commercials. They did make sure you paid attention, that you did your homework and assignments and didn't "twitter" or otherwise waste your time in class. And Lord help you if you didn't; when I was a kid, the principal’s office was more fearsome than the boogeyman.

So many of today's teachers, products of or sons and daughters of baby-boomers and hippies, harp at kids to help keep the Earth green while hopping on air-polluting jets to vacation yearly in Antigua or Cuba. That's all gone now. Schools have become so emasculated, where women have taken over as principals and as teachers, turning their backs on real education and classroom discipline for civics lessons like Why It Took America So Long to Put a "Black" Man in the White House. Marks? Forget it. Students don't have to worry about maintaining "B" or even "C" averages, and the biggest new worry in education isn't the quality of education, if you believe the June 6 Toronto Star — it's the fear over so many students getting suspended and ending up in a gang and/or with a gun and later, a jail cell or a grave. Discipline and enforcement of proper behavior has gone now, as now cops are a growing presence in Canadian schools, just to keep non-white punks from killing each other along with the white students.

You pay for the schools and the educational systems, municipally and provincially. Among the "goodies" that are part of the 2009/10 Ontario education budget are $7 million grant to a project called Schools Helping Schools, a program twinning high-performing schools with low-performing schools (i.e, race-mixing into mostly non-white-pupilled schools; hope part of that will be for metal detectors). Another $10 million goes to "provide additional learning opportunities outside the classroom" ("What! They want to bus you to the new Human Rights Museum out West?"). Globalists love our education system and give it high marks; no doubt they haven't heard of, or care for, what it's like to get an education in Regent Park or C. W. Jeffreys High School, where the phrase "devoting your life to learning" has taken deadly meaning for over the past three decades.

 

These damn multiculturalism-shilling teachers who whine for more money, more time off, ad nauseam, come from the generations that brought the world to Canada and ended up turning schools into houses of horror for white kids (especially white teenage girls fearful of rape) and wide-open mayhem-filled sanctuaries for drug dealers, non-white gangs and "gangstas." The blurring of sexual genders and sexual orientation has taken place of teaching morals and manners, where anything with a pulse has to be respected, and in some cases for the sake of political-correctness. must be bowed and scraped to. That sucking sound you're hearing is the money flying out of your wallet to pay for it.

An overall increase in "educational spending" for 2009-10 has been set to $14.2 billion — your money. And here's where it won't be going: Teaching languages and cultures like Latin, European history, the Renaissance, men like Michelangelo and DaVinci and their classic works of art. Musicians who made music — no, not rap stars, but Beethoven, Dvorak, Vivaldi and Chopin. Teaching about the exploits of Lewis and Clark, John Cabot, Amerigo Vespucci, Champlain, Henry Hudson. (Try the civil rights movement, the hippies and Vietnam, and oh, yeah, those Nazi guys). Forget about your kids learning of the horrors of Stalin and Mao, let's get 'em angry at Muslims and patriarchal ancient religious traditions, so they can fight wars and lose a limb or two or a life, just to put Starbucks, McDonald's and Gap stores on every corner in Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan ... what else can you expect from a feminized corruption of everything that is supposed to be "education," poisoning our sons' and daughters' minds, and not teaching them or preparing them or even imparting just plain, old fashioned manners and consideration. All you are helping to create is yet another generation of selfish, spoiled emasculated men, butch women and frequent flyer joyriders only qualified to push our world into the last stage before Armageddon.

The old saying has a ring of truth: Those who can't, teach. Next year, Ontario municipalities will be re-electing school trustees. Time for you to get on the 'Net and find out who yours are. And if they're not doing their jobs — to see that education is a priority — let 'em know that December 2010 is coming sooner than they think...and that you're keeping a voter's eye on them.

And you (ahem) "educators" out there: next time you're ready to hit the picket lines, I hope you drain every last bit of your strike funds and then starve. You are a disgrace to education, a disgrace to teaching and a disgrace to Canada.

And you can bet the farm I'll be returning to this topic in the near future.

 

 

Cops Can't Protect Us

 

There's never a cop around when you need one.

Formerly a cliché TV line, it now has the ring of truth in Toronto and in many communities in Canada. Police are these days the politically-correct strong arm not so much of the law, but of the State, which cares little about the average citizen's rights. They also serve as modern-day Sheriffs of Nottingham, preferring the relatively safer role of tax collectors (tickets and fines) to fighting violent criminals, killers and gangs. They're up front when it comes to enforcing the new Nanny-state here in the Dominion — most especially the travesty that is occurring in Winnipeg, where the treacherous idiots in charge of Manitoba are trying to take a young girl from her family — all for wearing a swastika. No word from there about how well the local cops are dealing with things like native crime, poverty and violence (In Ontario, we just let 'em take over, like in Caledonia).

 

Locally, a 14-year-old black teen was shot to death in west-end Toronto in mid-May. the fourth in one month in that area. There were 75 police dispatched into the area — you guessed it, after the latest killing and Police Chief Blair was on the media hot seat again. Just days before, blacks were involved as suspected perpetrators and victims in a 'house party" shooting at a West Mall townhouse. And as in most cases, things don't look hopeful that those responsible will be caught, let alone stand trial or receive proper punishment.

It's a familiar pattern: Media launches hype over violence, instant and brief anger and response, then, silence, just as it was after the June Creba Boxing Day murder a few years back. And the only major change to federal laws that have been proposed lately are not tougher penalties for gangs and killers, but stepped up penalties for "promoting hate."

 

We have everything from punks tossing bricks on cars here, scratching and painting disgusting graffiti everywhere, and worst of all, miserable creatures of all ages killing, kidnapping, raping, rampaging, drive-by shooting and taking over whole sections of big cities. And where the hell are the police to stop that? You pay taxes, and one of the most important things that your tax dollars should go toward are those whose job it is and who swear an oath, to protect order, life and property. We pay their salaries, we pay to train them and for their uniforms and equipment. Taking care of the State's political agenda should be nowhere on their list.

According to the proposed $1.637 billion City Budget, $36 million is earmarked for "health and safety" ; check it out HERE .  That's a little over one-third that's supposed to be used to police Toronto. And as usual, it's never enough (just check the Toronto crime reports in Sunday papers).

 

Unless they're there in force (ETF or organized and too-few raids). police have a problem getting out of the relative safety of their cruisers and confronting criminals, especially the super-vicious ones who are the progeny of people we've been importing here for close to forty years now. Only now, and begrudgingly, even the media are starting to recognize that we have a race/crime crisis in Canadian cities.

We all know what the solution is vis-à-vis crime and violence and how police should handle it: That's for them to lay off the jay- walking tickets, and to get in the faces of the real criminals — the hoodlums and "gangstas" with all necessary and reasonable force necessary. Leftists will moan as they always do about the cops being an "occupation force." They don't seem to mind the occupation forces already here — mainly consisting of black and Asian gangs that rule with violence, intimidation and fear, Oh, yeah, and get we get police chiefs here more concerned with law and order than offending minorities?

And let's get the cops in the streets again, on foot beats, knowing the neighbourhoods and the people in them and to encourage them to help fight crime. Forget about the nanny state, just concentrate on the punks who are shooting, dealing and turning our environs into war zones. And let's hear less whining about how much it will cost, for the cost of not working toward a crime-free city is anarchy and fear.

Just hours before this column appeared, a major US news story revolved around the fatal shooting in Kansas of Dr. George Tiller, a late-term abortionist dubbed "Tiller the Killer." His alleged killer is now facing trial. In Woodstock Ontario, where the body of murdered 8-year-old Tori Stafford has not at this writing been found, new bumper stickers have been seen, reportedly saying, "Hang Pedophiles."

Things have come to this, with the law and our cops neither serving nor protecting, and a new anger among citizens emerging and growing, where people, feeling abandoned by law, right and justice, are taking the law into their own hands. It's a pattern familiar in history, whenever the elected among us turn their backs on the will of the people.

It all depends on a question we need to ask ourselves:
Just what kind of a city and a country do we want to live in?

 

Male Morons, Mushy Metrosexuals

 

A few days ago, I saw a rebroadcast of the first TV concert of the late stand-up comic George Carlin, whose greatest achievement in life was "Seven Dirty Words You Can't Say On Television." He was a hippie comic —  crude, blue and reflective of the hedonistic 1960's that saw a completely-changed (for the worse) North American society. He was one of those guys who was at the start of the evolution of those kind of guys who morphed into two species that would exist separately and overlap — as jerks and as metrosexuals.

Metrosexuals —  yeesh, who came up with that term? I mean, I know they are the darlings of modern wild women; they're movie heroes, talk show hosts, singers, comedians and commercial actors, to name a few. So smarmy, so two-faced, so hypocritical, they're...they're...

They're just not men. You remember men, don't you? They were pretty cool, ran the family and its affairs and were masculine — at least up until the sixties when guys stopped acting like men, grew their hair long down to their rear ends and joined their "earth mothers" in hippie communes, later to become servile, wimpy, effeminate creepy wusses, as women threw their femininity away, donned boxy suits later in life and acted like they owned whatever place they were in, including pushing for abortion, gay sex. A new TV Land show celebrates the latest manifestation of the North American wild woman — in a "reality dating" show called The Cougar. Today, the new man (like his macho partner) only supports wars where patriarchal societies are targeted. lets his mate stay out all hours and has the power in our society of a wet Oreo cookie (can you think of a more wimpy guy than America's first metrosexual president, Barack Obama? No wonder militant Islamic groups must be chortling with laughter) These days, if you want to teach your kids what men used to be, sadly, the closest you'll get is getting a few John Wayne movie DVDs.

The metrosexual dominates the news media. airwaves, radio and TV. They are either "non-threatening," full of manners and political correctness, or they are Animal House-type specialists in idiotic, gross, juvenile and/or offensive behavior. A few examples of the so-called "new man" (heaven help us):

GEORGE STROUMBOULOPOLOS: CBC's host of The Hour, is every hip Canuck female's cuddly teddy bear: hip, savvy and oh-so-wise. His charity works includes a World AIDS Day documentary and hosting the Nelson Mandela-backed Hip Hop 4 Africa.

SEAMUS O'REAGAN, co-host of CTV's Canada AM. A main face behind one of Canadian TV's only two national morning news shows, he has the rugged masculinity of a Q-Tip and has borrowed the no-tough-questions interrogation style of CNN's Wolf Blitzer.

JOHN OAKLEY is one of those media guys who never really fade away when they lose a radio or TV gig. His bio says he's worked on an auto assembly line, as a paperboy, and selling lemonade (according to 640 radio, in that order). Currently a morning man at beer-chugger favorite AM 640 in Toronto, he is one a stream of venomous warmonger radio hosts in this country who don't have qualms about Canadians fighting a women's lib war in Afghanistan

JOHN MOORE of CFRB 1010 is a metrosexual whose bigger career began on the Men TV talk show Guy Stuff. Tweety Bird is more of a macho man than this smarmy feminist liberal. He's a grad from Concordia University who spent years in chi-chi Montreal before heading to our fair city. His doesn't like cats or clowns.

CONAN O'BRIEN: This former Simpsons writer-producer is about to take over The Tonight Show from Jay Leno. Another cocky pretty boy who thinks he's God's gift to America, it's amazing so many could stay awake past his old 12:30 am time slot on NBC

JON STEWART: Stewart (nee Stewart Liebowitz) was a virtual nobody until Comedy Central gave him The Daily Show, his nightly fake news rant-fest that airs twice a day on Canada's Comedy Network. His braying, manic performance is a set-up "counterpoint' to the fake kosher-conservatism of the immediately-following Colbert Report .

STEPHEN (Middle name: Tyrone) COLBERT: Stewart's late-night follow-up, followed his love of J.R.R. Tolkien and Dungeons and Dragons with a career in comedy improvisation after an ear injury ruined his dream of being a rock star. It explains a lot, including his own wink-wink shtick as a "conservative."

BILL MAHER: This guy, who began his career in HBO comedy specials and who now fronts the nightly Real Time on that channel, is one of America's most arrogant overgrown teenagers masquerading as an intellectual. His constantly-grinning, sardonic visage has been a trademark since his stand-up days. He's a supporter of gay marriage and loves to put down religion and 9/11 conspiracy theorists when he's not hanging with PETA pals like Pamela Anderson.

Sitcom Dads: If they're non-whites like Bill Cosby or George Lopez, they're cool. White dads on sitcoms are losers, braggarts, blowhards and bumblers like Tim Allen (Home Improvement) John Goodman (Dan Connor of Roseanne),
Jay Mohr (Gary Unmarried), Jon Cryer (Two-and-a-Half Men) Ed O'Neill (Married With Children) and Tom Bosley (Happy Days, and the animated Wait 'Til Your Father Gets Home)

Then there's the "men" over at places like Fox News Channel, twerps like Bill Hemmer, pretty-boy/whipped morning news hosts Steve Doocy and Brain Kilmeade, and that now-near-fossilized Geraldo Rivera, now relegated to a late-night weekend slot. CNN has its share of metrosexuals; their American Morning man John Roberts, got his start at Canada's MuchMusic rock video channel.

For most of us males, getting from adolescence to manhood is a hard road, but many of us make it relatively unscathed, and in spite of the bad images films and TV portray of what a man is supposed to be these days. In patriarchal, orderly societies, the man rules. Yet, the "bad" man, in its many forms: the lecher, the idiot, the drunk, the low-life criminal. the effeminate wimp, the buffoon, etc. — is what our kids are being bombarded with every day. It's up to us to lessen the effect this media monstrosity called "modern man" has on our kids and to fight it hammer and tong wherever and however it appears. We can start by turning our backs on these wimps and dolts that represent modern men and are held up as role models.

 

 

Propagandist Pundits

 

Radio, like television, has for the past decades undergone many changes of its own. What has emerged as the predominant and most popular format is the "Talk Radio" (or talk/news) format that has supplanted music on many stations in North America. While it has sounded the death knell for music formats from Top 40 to Oldies (Toronto's CHUM radio just ditched its oldies format for all-news ,and Hamilton's CHAM has chucked country music for a mix of kosher-conservative-laced talk and "Support the troops" diatribes), it has made millions for media conglomerates like Rogers, Astral Media and Corus Entertainment, and millionaires and celebrities out of windbags on both sides of the US/Canada border, from our own smug, pompous twits like Michael Coren and Stephen LeDrew, to America's Rush Limbaugh and Don Imus.

Sure, there are lots of TV people who pioneered and still hold the torch up for the usually reactionary and politically Zionist-biased takes on everything from immigration to the tanking worldwide economy, like CNN's Larry King, PBS's Charlie Rose and the entire hosting staff of Fox News Channel. But these days, it's radio that is perceived to be the 'pulse' of democracy, when in reality it ends up as just another tightly-controlled dog-and-pony show: You have a comment, you call up and there's a producer and/or engineer who monitors your call, asks your name and the topic you want to speak on. If you get on,  you're lulled into a false sense of security by a host who acts like he agrees with you, only to lower the boom and challenge you whenever you stray across the line of political correctness. And if you try to outwit the self-appointed pundit, there's always a seven-second delay and a poised finger to cut you off (some tips about calling in, a little later). It's roll call time for some of these clowns:

Newstalk 1010/CFRB's Michael Coren, a bald, smug Brit who dragged his kid into helping him shill for an outfit named "Auto Depot" and who started out as a columnist for the now-defunct Frank magazine, is the daddy of all the pro-Zionist lickspittles. With his co-host Stephen LeDrew (another local jerk who blew it with his own TV show on the Issues Channel), they bill themselves as "Two Bald Guys With Strong Opinions.” Coren's forte is to bait those who comment negatively on racially-tinged topics like immigration by dropping the "R-bomb" ("You're a racist!"), comparing the caller to and plugging  the cowardly fleers from the white nationalist cause; the name of Paul Fromm has been mentioned on the air on Toronto talk radio about as much as that as clothier Sol Korry. "Racists" like Fromm are the convenient reactionary kosher conservative whipping boys for these yam-headed yakkers. And having a guy like LeDrew for backup as intelligent counter-pointer is like having Mr. Magoo help Marshal Dillon win a gunfight; perhaps you need to ditch that bow tie of yours, Stevie; it's cutting off the blood to your brain.

If fighting morning traffic makes you grind your teeth, better avoid Toronto's morning morons: CFRB's Bill Carroll and AM 640's John Oakley.  Carroll, whose best-known gig before radio was a TV game show called Test Pattern, is a Scottish authoritarian-type (as are many kosher conservative hosts) who ends up pushing for multiculturalism wherever he can. He'll jump at the chance to jump down the neck of racially-aware people who call in.

John Oakley, over at AM 640, doesn't fare much better. He too, had a TV show on the low-rated Men TV channel called Out of Bounds, and morphed into a radio version of an annoying Al Bundy-ish next door neighbor, doing his own version of the nasty warmonger, featuring a regular menagerie or lowlifes like walrus-faced UN lackey John Bolton, the sickening Lou ("Happy Capitalism!") Schizas and NOW magazine leftist -wannabe lesbo Susan Cole. Later in the morning is the arrogant Mike Stafford, a brassy Irishman whom AM 640 praises to the hilt on its website, calling his finest moment the non-eventful Toronto blackout of 2003.

During the day, we have the ultimate Canadian media couple, CFRB's Paul and Carol Mott, part of the rural horsy set and a little reminiscent of Oliver and Lisa Douglas of TV's Green Acres. Paul the male half of this team being the bigot who winces at the mention of "racism" and a whipped idiot, while the li'l woman Carol plays her part as the loudmouthed feminist harridan to the hilt.

John Moore, another boor of an afternoon host, is a failed actor who came to Toronto after a stint in Montreal and who thinks everyone loves him (in all probability, only his dog seems to have a hard on). He loves to pretend he's on the left, a sort of mirror image of Oakley, but still leaves you as the epitome of the trendy feminist warmonger rampant in North American radio.

Next up is the nationally-heard annoying lout Charles Adler, who's been around on CFRB long enough to be in the Canadian Museum of Broadcasting, and is more pro-Israel than Israel itself; a caustic, derisive war lover and arrogant Zionist who was most deserving of the Walter Duranty Broadcasting Award.

Sunday afternoons on CFRB, we have the ever-so-hip Spider Jones, an ex-boxer (his CFRB site photo proves that) who genuflects to kosher conservatism so smoothly, a "concerned black activist" trying so hard to be Bill Cosby; he only ends up as a failed middle-of-the-mush token Negro in the body of a washed-up fighter.

Speaking of blacks, (and brushing on TV for a bit), there are those 'brothers' now popping up more on CNN in host-commentator roles: Don Lemon, Tony Harris, T.J. Holmes, ex-comic D.L. Hughley and Roland Martin, the new weeknight replacement for Campbell Brown. They all fit right in with the "acceptable" black host and personality that has become as popular as Barack Obama. 

On Sirius satellite radio (for the serious pervert), ol' Howard Stern has been at his antics and still maintaining the rep as the college clown capable of anything; he remains radio's number one equal opportunity offender (maybe he'll join the Osbournes as host of his own variety/game show).

On race, many "pundits" in broadcasting (just as in print) deliberately misdiagnose the roots of black crime, preferring to blame it on "youth," the B-word being out of bounds. Their lame, lying and dangerous position on race and crime is, like the rest of officially-approved media opinion, just shit covered by icing.

The bottom line is, these know-it-alls are more often a bunch of bombastic bastards and bitches, peddling the kosher-approved line on all and sundry, and expecting you to do the same when you call.
All that stands between these nitwits and total mesmerization of their sycophant listeners is a person who knows how to call in:

1. Know your topic — don't just talk from the gut, do your research.

2. Be authoritative — don't come on like the host owns you.  Make sure you have your facts straight and you have your sources near you.

3. Be assertive, but don't flip, don't allow your debate to become a screaming match (at which point you will be cut off). Let the smart-aleck give himself an aneurysm. You might not be able to outwit these self-enamored hosts, but you'll hold your own.

And remember, if you hear anything from these self-appointed gurus of the public you find offensive, complain to the station manager. Complain to their owners, and to the regulatory bodies, on line and in print.

 

Contact Us:

 

bobsmith@natparty.com