Day: August 19, 2025

I’m referring to Race, of course. The greatest civilizations over the many millennia were built by people with light colored skin. “White” people. The greatest advances in all forms of knowledge are because of white people. White people are the most inquisitive and the least impulsive. We, I say we because I’m white, so I naturally understand the nature of whiteness, we have more of what dark skinned people generally lack much of at all, which is an impulse filter. White people tend to think before we act more than the darker races.

This is why we aren’t constantly destroying everything around us. White people never want Negroes to move into their neighborhood because the Negroes generally don’t take care of their homes. Instead they let things deteriorate and allow trash, junk and filth to accumulate. I say generally, and not always. If you look around in poor white neighborhoods that are all white, you’ll most likely see a lot of unkempt yards and homes, with beat-up stuff in the yards, driveways and on the porches. Now check out a Negro neighborhood of the same general income and it will be a foul, stinking pit you feel like running from and should. A lot of poor whites may be trashy but poor Negroes are far worse.

So let’s go at this from the other end, to be fair, and examine the neighborhoods of wealthy whites and Negroes. Oh, wait, there’s no wealthy Negro neighborhoods, all the wealthy ones have moved into white neighborhoods. Why? because they don’t want to live among their poorer relatives any more than white people do. They want a clean and crime-free place to live and the only places that meet that description are the well-off white neighborhoods.

Orientals, Chinese and Japanese, prefer to live only with their own kind and not mix at all. The same is true to a lesser extent with Hispanics, they like to have their own All-Hispanic neighborhoods, which always seem to become more degraded and crime ridden the more Hispanic they become.

If you look around the world, do a little traveling, it soon becomes obvious that the most civilized places are predominantly white. Even in the nations of Europe where the glory of past ages has faded away, the people are civil, streets are clean. It’s when there’s too many dark skinned people that there’s “flash mobs” robbing stores and causing destruction. It isn’t white people pushing Asians onto the subway tracks. It isn’t white people randomly assaulting aged whites. As a general rule, white people create, dark skinned people destroy.

In fact, currently there’s an effort to “de-white” the population and mix us all up into one homogeneous blend of light brown, and eliminate whiteness altogether. You see it constantly on TV, with most of the actors in the ads being dark skinned men with white women and if there’s children they’re of course obviously racially mixed. The same is true of new movies that come out, all full of dark skinned men with white women, dark men as the action heroes, white men as the villains.

Those behind this may see it as aiding human evolution, I see it as stupidity and an attempt to dumb down the human race, considering that Negroes, especially, have the lowest I.Q.s of us all. Children that result from this mismatch are smarter than their Negro parent but stupider than their white parent, though that point could be argued.

The truth is that most dark skinned people want to be whiter and the reason is too obvious to bother stating but I will anyway, white is better and everyone knows it.

Now that I’m getting close to the end, my hearing is poor, my teeth are plastic and my eyesight is dimming, and I no longer give a crap who knows these things, I thought I’d tell a little story.

In my later years, which were a long time ago now, nearly 50 years ago, I bought some land in northern California, built a house and supported myself by growing pot. Everyone up there did, many still do, but at the time it was still illegal and there was a thing called C.A.M.P. that started up, which was a joint effort between the Sheriffs Dept. and the federal Drug Enforcement Agency, the DEA. C.A.M.P. meant Campaign Against Marijuana Planting.

The roads up into those hills are all glorified logging roads that have been widened and improved over time to support the increased use by all the people who moved in up there, but they’re still dirt and will never be paved because the land is too rugged and unstable.

In the Fall, when the pot buds would ripen, the airplane spotters would start flying over the hills looking for crops, and they’d find them, too. We all had CB radios and would be listening when harvest time came near, because we had a code. When the Sheriff Dept. and DEA big stake-side trucks would start rolling north on Highway 101 out of Ukiah, pot lovers along the route would get on their CB radios and start sending out the warnings to those of us up north of them in the mountains that The Law was coming to raid our pot patches.

The code they used depended on how big the raid was that was coming. If it was just a few cars and trucks, we’d hear “There will be a Dancercize class taking place this morning” and if it was more vehicles, “There will be a Dancercise and Jazzercise class”, but if it was lots of them, a big, serious raid was coming, then we heard “There will be Dancercise, Jazzercise, Exercise and Aerobicize classes, get ready” and we knew we’d better grab what we could of our stuff and find a safe place to keep from being arrested if they came to us.

When one of these big raids would happen and there were a few in my neighborhood, I would always be sitting up on a far ridge with a good view and a jug of wine, watching. There’d always be at least one helicopter flying around directing the ground crews, and as the big stakeside trucks filled up with chopped down pot plants I’d see them rolling back out of our remote river valley with all that green sticking out from whacking down someone’s big crop, which was now destined to be destroyed in the big slash burner at a lumber mill in Ukiah.

They never got mine, because I didn’t make it worthwhile for them. They saw my plants alright, but they were after the 50, 100 or more plant patches. I generally had 25 to 40 plants and they were scattered all over the woods in 2’s, 3’s and 4’s. It was just too much work for those fat-bellied deputies to do all that hiking up the hills, down the hills, through the bushes. I didn’t mind, I was plenty strong and fit and I enjoyed it. Growing pot in the woods was one of the most fun things I ever did.

I miss those days, but what the hell, I miss other days in other places, too. Life’s been a great adventure, I traveled all over the world, had a variety of successful businesses, was a custom car painter, shop keeper, built houses and so on and did well at all of them, well enough that I’ve been living off the money for over 20 years and still have more than enough to go for another 20 years, though I know my days will run out a lot sooner than that. I might last another 3 or 4. So while this may not be my final post, it is time to just say the things I feel like saying. Not likely it’s going to get read much anyway, and if it does, it doesn’t matter.