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Live By BLM, Die By BLM: Meet The Photographer Who Died Of His Own Medicine


Oh well, the photographer killed in Louisville (see, how much lurv this summer contains?) was not killed by a White Supremacist, but by a man of c-c-c-colour. This guy was arrested only days before, and immediately released.

Furthermore, the killed photographer was an activist who supported the “cause”. 

I will not give you the sugary stuff. You can go somewhere else to read this. Say an Eternal Rest for the poor bugger, and reflect that he had it coming. In fact, it is very fitting that those who work to spread racial tension, chaos, and a revolutionary climate leading to Communism should die of the same virus with which they want to infect everybody else.

The motives of the biped who did this aren’t clear. You can see him in the linked article just firing around, senselessly, without an apparent reason.

These are very, very, very stupid people. The motive can range from the intention to blame “White Supremacists”, to the guy being owed 12 dollar by someone in the encampment, to the guy having some “beef” with other criminals in the area.

Arrested only one week before; promptly released; shooting around only days later; in broad daylight. Welcome to the New World of S-S-S-Social J-J-J-Justice.

The photographer was in the wrong place. Well, he actually literally was. He was in the wrong place, doing the work of Satan.

Before any sensitive soul wastes his time writing comment about my lack of “sensitivity”, or feeling all warm theorising that the guy might have had “good intentions”, let me say this: there is no excuse for supporting BLM. There has never been, but most certainly there isn’t now. It is like supporting Stalin, period. 

This “Summer of Love” is evolving predictably badly. It is as if there was a concerted effort to get Trump reelected as leftists of all colours and political shades compete with each other in doing and saying the stupidest, most outlandish things, scaring moderate Democrats. Democrats need more time than other people to open their eyes; but many of them have children, a job, a mortgage, a work ethics, hopes for the future of the ones they love.

I doubt they will see the future that these demented people are preparing for them, and like it.




Murdered Homosexual Not A Martyr After All


Murdered by his own hired sex toy: David Kato

It is always instructive to observe how the liberal press and media are never slow in mounting the next “homophobia” story, but never seem to pay the same attention when the story turns out to be not only utterly wrong, but damaging to their ideological agenda.

To make a sordid story short, it happened (read the beautiful contribution from the “Reluctant Sinner” blog) that David Kato, the Ugandan homosexual activist with the dubious honour of landing on a conservative newspaper’s list of prominent homos with the questionable headline “hang them”, was subsequently murdered.

After the tragedy, the ululations of the homo-wolves were longer and higher-pitched than usual and a “homophobic attack” presented as the very likely cause of the sad loss of a human life (and probably the ever sadder loss of an immortal soul). Sadly for the ulutating wolves, it turns out that the chap was murdered by… a fellow poof who was… his hired lover. You can’t make protest marches with that I am afraid.

Strangely, the space given to this story was – in my perception and, I bet, in yours –  nowhere near the one given to the first, “homophobic” one. How very strange.

Reflecting on these matters, I would now be at a loss to mention heterosexuals killed by their occasional lovers, or killed by people who had been their “guests” for some time.

If on the other hand I think of the supposedly “gay”, several examples come to mind of homos killed by their own lovers, who were being paid by them.

Think of Pierpaolo Pasolini, a wasted talent and the epitome of everything that is filthy, killed in the most squalid of circumstances after quarrelling with male prostitutes about, well, professional fees. Whilst in recent times someone has tried to rewrite history, no one of a sane mind has, or ever had, the slightest doubt about the circumstances leading to his death.

Or think of Gianni Versace, killed by another homosexual very probably “known” to and already “hired” by him. Here too, attempts are being made at re-writing history to divert the attention from the relish with which supposedly “gay” people kill each other, but what became clear is that the man was no stranger to hiring desperate or drug addicted sexual deviants for very cheap money. Like the rather well-off Pasolini, Versace was another cheapskate because of his hate, I think. I’ll come back to this.

Now the case of David Kato, the Homo-Martyr-That-Never-Was. It turns out that the man was killed by the very poor boytoy “gardener” he kept in his home (gardener? GARDENER? Wait a minute! Kato was not wealthy at all and lived in a very dangerous neighbourhood, right?) against shelter, food and you-know-what.

Here too, money is at the centre of the tragedy and here too, “gayness” seems to go together with being a liar and a cheapskate at that or – depending on from what side you see it – a murderer of the man you were screwing just hours before. How very romantic. Kato apparently promised money to his (cough) “gardener” but then failed to deliver and the other had a bout of (cough) “gay pride” and found nothing better to do than to kill him. No doubt, in a few years’ time the attempts to rewrite history will be started here too.

I can’t avoid from all this the impression that homosexuals use, enslave, cheat, and murder their “lovers” with rather alarming frequency; that the idea of hiring sex slaves seems to be rather well spread (no, I do not think that his murderer was very much “romantically involved” with Kato; do you? And didn’t even Oscar Wilde, once in France, start to fish among the poorest and most destitute to satisfy his cravings?); that, in short, these oh so sensitive flowers screaming “homophobia!” and threatening with suicide if one says to them so much as poof often have a way to relating to each other that to me seems dominated by brutal exploitation and raw hate.

Which makes sense, because if there is one sensible conclusion that can be drawn from the extremely high rate of suicide, diseases of all kind and general brutality with each other that the supposed “gay” population exhibits, is that these people hate their own guts with a passion, and the guts of those like them with an ever greater one. Prepotence without manliness, and bitchiness without femininity.

Hate of oneself, then. Wait a minute, how is it called in medical terms?

Yep: homophobia.



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