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The ex-slave Charlie Davenport remembers slavery during the Great Depression:

“Insisting that “us didn’t b’long to no white trash,” Davenport, like many slaves and former slaves, expressed great pride in his master, “one ob de richest en highest quality gentlemen in de whole country,” and took special delight in the character of the Surgets, the wealthy family of his owner’s wife: “Dey wuz de out fightenist, out cussinest, fastest ridin, hardest drinkin, out spendinest folks I ebber seed. But Lawd, Lawd, dey wuz gentlemen eben in dey cups.” (that is, when drunk.”)

Reading this passage you know instantly that he is describing our people and their weltanschauung which couldn’t be further removed from the morose, moralizing Yankee Puritan.

Compare the tone of Dixie to Battle Hymn of the Republic which talks about holy Yankees dying to make the negro free:

About Hunter Wallace 12379 Articles
Founder and Editor-in-Chief of Occidental Dissent

13 Comments

  1. still see no counter-game, from oscar the clown. none at all.

    Like I said: oscar is a worhtless, gutless pussy.

    Make me laugh, or crawl back into your cave with you foul breath and hacking cough

    Put up or shut up, maggot.

    now get the phuk out, asswipe.

    If your next comment contains nothing funny, that will be construed as unconditional surrender.

    Next comment, no excuses.

    Do it, or else hike up that skirt and show some thigh to snag that long, long hitched ride home with the leering drunky insurance salesman on that bumpy back road to Arkansas.

  2. Like a senile babbling idiot sitting in an asylum, Caldwell keeps mumbling to himself the same thing over and over. When he’s not just drooling or trying and failing to be funny that is.

  3. Like a senile babbling idiot sitting in an asylum, Oscar keeps mumbling to himself the same thing over and over. When he’s not just drooling or trying and failing to be funny that is.

    You guys need some new material.

  4. Like a senile babbling idiot sitting in an asylum, Rundel the idjit keeps mumbling to himself the same thing over and over. When he’s not just drooling or trying and failing to be funny that is.

    Youneed some new material, guy

  5. Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!

    You know what that sound is, guys: after all, you’ve been hearing it all your lives.

    It’s the sound of the Pussy Bell, tolling for you.

    You were challenged and your bluff was called, and rather than show your cards, you both ran away like a pair of pussies. Sorry, but game over. This is a court with no further appeal. Natasha, would you care to do the honors?

    (Natasha, a leggy Russian fashion model with tits like two scoops of vanilla ice cream and cheekbones higher than Kato Kaelin, enters in a backless gown slit all the way up her infrared-refractive thigh. She sashays over to the giant toilet flush handle, and gives it a good honest tug.

    FLUSH!! Chappie and Rudel swirl away, down the bowl and through the pipes, to commune at last among their true peers.)

    MYSELF: Such a waste. Sad, really.
    NATASHA: No it isn’t. They were a couple of witless twats. Besides, they’ll feel more at home down there.
    MYSELF: Yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s go grab some dinner.
    NATASHA (intrigued): Are you going to eat sushi off my tummy again, like last time?
    MYSELF: I will if you want me to.
    NATASHA (grins): I’ll call Nobu.

    The End.
    An RKO-Cinemascope Production.

  6. “Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!”

    That’s the bell for the fifteenth round and you haven’t said anything funny yet. You just lost the match on points.

  7. It would seem that oscar the pussy (aka oscar the clown) has determined to have me humiliate him yet again. Well then, despite the fact that I have already repeatedly abused him in the same way an infant abuses a diaper, I will happily repeat the exercise. In this instance, however, I will remind this contemptible ignorant toad that he once stupidly claimed that while cigarette smoking was harmful, cigar smoking was not (stupid jackass). So, here’s to oscar the idiot:

    “…Here are just a few of the harmful health effects of smoking pipes and cigars…”

    Cancer. Even if you don’t inhale, you can get a number of different cancers from smoking pipes and cigars. People who smoke cigars regularly are four to 10 times more likely than nonsmokers to die from cancers of the mouth, larynx, and esophagus. Oral cancer can develop anywhere the smoke touches, including the lips, mouth, throat, and tongue. People who inhale also increase their risk for cancers of the lung, pancreas, and bladder.

    Lung disease. Cigar and pipe smoking double the risk for the airway damage that leads to chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), a lung disease that includes chronic bronchitis and emphysema. Smoking can also worsen existing asthma.

    Heart disease. Smoking cigars or pipes increases the likelihood of having heart disease or a stroke. Cigars boost the risk of early death from coronary heart disease by 30%.

    Teeth problems. Smoking pipes or cigars wreaks havoc on your mouth, contributing to gum disease, stained teeth, bad breath, and tooth loss. One study showed that pipe and cigar smokers had an average of four missing teeth.

    Erectile dysfunction. Smokers are twice as likely to have erectile dysfunction as nonsmokers…”

    So oscar the pussy, take your foul breath, yellow teeth, ugly gums, diseased heart, dirty lungs, and limp dick, and keep on sucking on that burning tobbacco. And by the way, what you find elegant and refined, most others find putrid and repulsive. Get lost beast.

  8. @Rudel: Not possible to lose on points to a cowardly twat who never even stepped in the ring to begin with.

    Just because chappie thinks he is abusing someone doesn’t make it so. He’s crossed over into some really weird Twilight Zone-type region and I’m not interested in his dispatches from there. He can sit around with Van Jones; Van can wear those silly glasses and chappie can use ridiculous words like “alembicated” and both will think it makes them look intelligent.

    Bored now. Your further sputtering will go unread.

    Like I already told you…

    The End.
    A Mark Goodson/Bill Toddman Production.

  9. Hey oscar, you miserable gutless illiterate, like I said, take your foul breath, yellow teeth, ugly gums, diseased heart, dirty lungs, and limp dick, and get phukking lost. asswipe

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