Woke SJW sees the light!

 

IT’S SWEET TO SEE a leftist come to her senses.

In case you are unaware of the #WalkAway movement, which exists in real life and on YouTube, it is full of folks — more and more every day — who once voted Democrat but have seen the light.

I am one of those people though I’ve made no YouTube video, nor am I likely to. I walked away in 2007, earlier than most.

This woman, whose name is Bree, was a Bernie fanatic and a self-admitted, brainwashed, intolerant Social Justice Warrior. But after the 2016 presidential election, her eyes were opened. The first video predated the second by about a month.

Watch both. She’s a babe. Both videos were made in the summer of 2018, and the #WalkAway Movement has grown even greater since then. The movement was begun by a gay, New York hairstylist named Brandon Straka.

Note that there is no corresponding movement of people jumping ship in the other direction. The flood runs one way, away from the left toward clear thought and liberty.

If you suffer from Trump Derangement Syndrome, if you believe government owes you a living, if you think capitalism is the root of all evil, if you regularly read The New York Times and The Washington Post, thinking they keep you politically informed, if you watch CNN and MSNBC, if you think the United States is a terrible place and always has been …

… if you think blacks are always victims, that Jeffrey Epstein did commit suicide, that it was “Hillary’s turn,” that all cultures have equal value (except America’s, which is racist!), that women never lie about sex, that people don’t kill people, guns do …

… if you wear a pink pussy hat without feeling like a fool and if you cut contact with friends and family on Facebook and Instagram because they have different opinions …

… if you think President Trump hates gays, “people of color,” Mohammedans, Chinamen, and Mexicans, if you think Trump abuses women, and pimps out Melania whenever the Secret Service looks the other way, take a moment and listen to the words of this once-Woke woman who used to be your Soul Sister. You could be redeemable too.

 

Confederacy of dunces

THIS IS hilarious. And I’m a sharing sort of fellow.

The Democratic Socialists held a convention in Atlanta last weekend. I would say they all came out of their parents’ basements to attend, but there are old people visible too.

I wonder if my sister flew in from her home in the Socialist Republic of California.

Just so you know, I’m a he/him. “Guy” is fine too.

Below is a slightly longer clip if you want to howl some more. Part of the longer one repeats some of the above clip, but there’s quite a bit of additional hilarity available.

Down the Magic Dirt Road

MAGIC DIRT: the idea that geographical location will automatically transform the behavior of an individual or group of people.

This concept comes to us from Theodore Beale who writes under the name of  Vox Day. I’m reading a book of his that’s titled SJWs Always Double Down: Anticipating the Thought Police.

SJW stands for Social Justice Warrior, those ham-fisted, left-wing fanatics who enforce Political Correctness in the timorous world of white people.

But SJWs are not the focus today. Magic Dirt is. I happened upon this phrase and concept of Beale’s this week and, coincidentally, as if by magic, I had been thinking about something very similar lately.

Beale was born in Boston and now, apparently, lives in northern Italy upon his Magic Dirt. I was born in Atlanta and now, totally, live in the high mountains of Middle Mexico upon my Magic Dirt. We apparently both noticed the phenomenon, but he’s the one who stuck a name on it, not me.

Both Beale and I moved from American dirt to Latino dirt. I think that’s important. I believe that one who moves from American dirt to, say, Canadian or Australian dirt would likely not notice a great difference in dirt quality, its odor, consistency and color.

But does one change markedly on moving to another nation? I think it depends. I have, but I’m not sure to what extent, but it’s noticeable to me.

Let’s focus on moving to Mexico. There are no adjoining nations on earth that are so different, so if you really want a change, just fly over the Rio Bravo. I have long described Mexican life as akin to living in Alice’s Wonderland.

Cats with big smiles and no bodies that live in trees.

I’m sure the degree of change, the effect of the Magic Dirt, depends on how you live here and how often you go back where you came from. It also depends on if you know the language. It depends on the people you hang out with. If you marry into a Mexican family, that’s about as tight as a foreigner can get.

You’ve slipped through a barely open door. If you’re not in the Mexican family, you’re an eternal outsider, an intruder. You do get the smiles.

A Mexican’s face is a mask, and so is his smile.

— Octavio Paz.

If one heads back over the northern border regularly. If you are married to another foreigner. If you do not speak Spanish. These and other elements will affect the effect of the Magic Dirt upon your mind, heart and soul.

How do you know the Magic Dirt is below your fingernails?

One good indication is that the wackiness — often sheer lunacy — of Mexican life ceases to annoy you, or at least to a far lesser degree.

If you wake up due to the 6 a.m. explosions on the nearby plaza but go directly and easily back to sleep, that’s Magic Dirt. If people explain an issue by citing something totally illogical, and you nod or shrug, that’s Magic Dirt.

Walking daily over Magic Dirt can be unsettling, or it can start to feel normal. It depends on the individual, one supposes. And time.