Bad Ass Uncle Sam

(Photo: Uncle Louie wants you to speak your fuckin’ mind. | Lorie Shaull | CC)
The Quarter Rat wants to offer a wider range of voices to our opinion page. We do not want a one sided editorial page. There is too much of that in media. Let’s hear both sides. I see myself as a libertarian. (Which of course to Progressives, that’s the same as being a Nazi.) The Quarter Rat would welcome diversity in opinions on this page. If you are interested in writing an op-ed for TheQuarterRat.com please contact the publisher: dave at thequarterrat.com.

The French Quarter has a staple of conservatism in Michael DiBari. For years he and his cart could be found in front of the Federal Court House on Royal Street, and now he and his YouTube channel are located down by the French Market. Check out his videos and interviews on his YouTube channel, or swing by in person.

Bad Ass Uncle Sam down at the French Market.

A Vieux From Toulouse

I am sick and tired of fucking white people
who say “Fucking White People”

I can’t hold back from ripping into all of you patronizing, condescending virtue signaling white assholes any longer. You are embarrassing the entire human race, both white and black. You with your constant “Look at how not racist I am” attitude.

Over my 57 years of contact with humanity the one pattern that I have noticed is projection, in myself and others. The ones who are the first to accuse others of being liars are usually the biggest bullshitters. The coworker who is quick to scream theft when he can’t find something usually has the stickiest fingers. The ones who scream racism are the ones who only see skin color, never the content of character.

I’m done with trying to have reasonable conversations with Lilly-assed progressives anxious to prove themselves morally superior to the other honkies. Here are some of my favorite examples of why I feel this way from the past decade.

“Well, you just don’t know what it’s like to be a black person in America.”
“AND YOU DO? You grew up in a neighborhood as white as mine and far more affluent, so you do?”
“Well, I have lots of black friends who tell me what it’s like to be black.”

Really? If you preface “friend” with a skin color, then they aren’t really your friend, they are your token. I’ve seen it on social media. The same white person who loves to share bad cop videos posting a selfie with their minority co-worker. Their arm draped around some black guy’s neck with their self-satisfied grin, and the black coworker trying to turn their grimace into a smile. He knows, he isn’t their BFF, he’s just their novelty. I went through their friends list, hmmm, all white hipsters about the same age wearing the same pretentious T-shirts. There was a couple of more selfies taken with a transperson and a Spanish-looking barback from work.

It must be like a progressive scavenger hunt for them. “I just need to take a picture with an Asian, an indigenous American and a Middle Easterner and I will have completed my collection!”  Okay, throw a neck hold on a guy from Pakistan and try to take a picture, see how that works out for you. “Collect them all!”

Is there some sort of a phone app that breaks down your contacts into a neat little pie chart? “I have this many black friends, this many Hispanic, these are my LGBQT friends and these are my white friends. Oh, but they are cool white friends who think like me. I don’t have any conservative white friends because I am so inclusive.”

There was this one real knee jerk liberal I met here in the Quarter before he moved to Canada. Imagine that, a progressive that actually did move to Canada. A student of “environmental science” (I am not making any of this up, so help me), he became a Facebook friend with me before he left. I guess it was 2011-ish. I would post my usual political diatribes, a lot about the economy under Obama. I criticized Obama’s handling of it, which brought great wrath from this new found Canadian. Of course commenting on the poor shape of the economy just confirmed that I was a full-blown racist.

“What fucking right do you have to call me a racist?” I demanded. He responded by posting his profile picture, him with his black girlfriend. A new twist on the term “Trophy Wife.” I cringed in embarrassment for him, I felt sad for his girlfriend. To date that one post he made has to be the most racist thing I have ever come across on Facebook.

I later had to unfriend him since he was unable to have a civil discussion. Mr. Feminist called my female friend a “Dumb Cunt” for being a George Bush supporter. Ironic that progressives feel the right to tell minorities, women and gays how they should vote. I guess they just aren’t smart enough to figure it out for themselves.

“Trump is a racist.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, he just is.”
“Give me an example of how?”
“Well, just everything.”
“Like what?”
“Like everything!”
“How?”
“Well if you can’t see how he’s a racist then you must be one too.”

“At least I’m NOT a racist.” She says. Perhaps not. I do know you are a pathological liar, a chronic alcoholic, a cokehead and I suspect that you perform fellatio on strange men for money, but at least you’re not a Trump supporter. You got that going for you when you look in the mirror. Whatever makes you feel better about yourself, I guess.

I think I have to have more respect for the overt racist than the covert racist. The overt racist who says “I don’t like black people” is at least honest and open about their prejudice. The covert racist who proclaims “I love black people” is by far more insidious and deceitful. Neither party are concerned with character, only the color of skin. One person insists that black people aren’t smart enough to get into college, the other person insists that we need to lower the entrance exam scores so more black people can get into college. What’s the difference between those two perspectives? None.

Conservatives want to see black people with a good paying jobs, free from dependency on the government. A progressive wants to see more welfare benefits for black people and to have them always reliant on the system. Who is the racist?

A conservative will insist “You can do any fucking thing that you put your mind to and work hard at” The progressive will insist “You will never be able to get ahead in the world without us using our white privilege to help you.” If I were black I would be protesting those racists. “Don’t be lowering the bar for me motherfucker, I don’t need your help or hand-outs.” No, I don’t know what it’s like to be black, I just know what it’s like to be human. I hate condescension.

The soft racism of low expectations.

If you defend the 99% of good law enforcement, you are called a bootlicker by progressives. Do you want to know what a bootlicker is? It’s the insecure, weak kid that kisses the ass of the school bully in hopes that he won’t be a target of violence. It’s the business that places a BLM poster in their window hoping they won’t come in in the morning to find their life’s work looted. It’s the white liberal with a “COEXIST” bumper sticker on the back of their Prius hoping that they won’t get pulled out and assaulted for being the wrong color in the wrong place. “BUT I’M ON YOUR SIDE! LOOK! I POSTED A BLACK SQUARE ON SOCIAL MEDIA!”  “I posted White People Suck! I’m the good kind of white person!”

How many countless examples have we seen just in the past few years? The white liberal outraged at an old photo of white coal miners covered with coal dust “That looks like black-face!” “It’s coal dust from their job.” “Yea, but it looks like black face so it should be removed.” Looks like black-face only to him. Why is it that the first to hear “Racist Dog-Whistles” are always the white progressives? “Oooooh! He said the word ‘Monkey!’” “Uhm, yea, that was because he visited the primate house at the zoo.” “We all know what he was REALLY referring to.”

How do you trigger a white progressive?
Just say the word “Watermelon.”

I guess my point to this essay is: You are not helping the situation, you are making it worse for everyone. You will not be exempt from the violence and fires you fan. “All white people are racist except for me” is not a brilliant strategy. You are a Jew telling the SS officers where the other Jews are hiding. Eventually, you will be the last Jew tossed into the death camp where those you ratted on will be waiting for you.

A Vieux From Toulouse

(Meme by Eric T. Styles)
TWO HURRICANES ARE COMING!
Quick, close everything down!
Board up all of the windows!
Everyone cower inside out of fear!
Oh wait, we already good.

I feel the same way for every hurricane: I am sick and tired of hearing about them even before they make landfall. It’s all that anyone talks about. It’s plastered all over the media and Rouses is packed with people hoarding tuna fish and liquor. Then the storms turn out to be nothing.

Granted, I wasn’t here for Katrina. I know a lot of survivors from that storm and I’ll cut them a break when it comes to over reacting to predictions. I did grow up on the Jersey Shore and have seen my fair share of hurricanes and Nor’easters. You folks down here think you are the champs of surviving storms? Have you ever had hurricane winds with ice and snow? Ok, go sit down then.

Do you know how I could predict a storm was coming when I was in New Jersey? News trucks. I use to drive a line bus for New Jersey Transit into a little shore town named Sea Bright. It just happened to be the lowest lying town on the shore and would easily flood with moderate rainfall or even an exceptionally high tide. I’d pull into the town on my first run and see all of the local news trucks from New York City lined up on Ocean Avenue and I would say to my passengers “Looks like we’re going to get a storm.”

The over zealous reporters would do a dramatic live broadcast on the stone seawall with waves splashing foam behind them, or they would find the deepest puddle in town and stand in it. I understand how the need for viewers and ratings drive these theatrics. I believe the need for sensational news coverage can be traced back to our bloodlust at the Roman Coliseums.  

My first major storm down here was the not very impressive Hurricane Isaac. The usual 5 days of hype and fearporn prior to landfall. During the night of the storm, my buddy and I did what any rational Quarter Rat would do, go bar hopping. We wandered around the near-desolate Quarter and ended up on Canal Street looking for the predicted devastation, but only found a Weather Channel news crew. The water was just only splashing at curb level, much the same as any heavy summer storm would produce.

In 20 minutes we found ourselves ducking out of the shifting winds and into dark Aunt Tiki’s on Decatur Street. A handful of locals were ten drinks into the night and repeating the phrase “This ain’t shit.” Our eyes were caught by the TV showing a reporter standing at an angle in New Orleans. That was the crew we had just passed by. The footage didn’t look how we remembered it. The camera man had placed the camera on the sidewalk. From that angle, the water looked like it was 3 feet deep across Canal Street. We elbowed each other pointing and yelling “BULLSHIT!”

I guess I could get on a high horse about the news media sensationalizing a nonstory and filling the public with unwarranted fear for ratings and profits. Maybe it rests on us, the public. We like the drama of impending doom. Perhaps we need these panics to keep us on our toes, a reminder of what can happen. Not that 2020 actually needed anymore unwarranted fears and near tragedies.

On the plus side, we were already boarded up. Good luck everybody with this meteorological gang bang.

UPDATED Tropical storms Marco and Laura forecast to reach Louisiana as hurricanes

A Vieux From Toulouse

“Comparing the explosion in Lebanon to the hotel collapse in New Orleans is comparing apples to oranges.”

Most everyone is aware of the massive explosion that took place in Beirut, Lebanon on Aug. 4. So far the death toll is approximately at 200, with anticipation of that number rising, thousands injured and catastrophic damage to the city center. The cause is believed to be 2,750 tons of ammonium nitrate, a very explosive material stored in a warehouse.

In the days following the deadly blast, it became apparent that the leaders and government officials were well aware of the very real hazard in the heart of the city. This sparked massive nation-wide protests that lead to the resignation of the Prime Minister and other responsible parties. As of Aug. 8, Badri Daher, the director-general of Lebanon’s customs authority, and 20 other people have been arrested. Protests still continue addressing previous smoldering grievances.

The protesters want accountability of their government for the negligence and possible corruption that lead to this tragedy. It’s basic responsibility of citizens to hold those accountable that we place in charge of public safety. The law isn’t one-sided, it applies to those who enforce it as well. That is the premise behind many protests here in the U.S. The government (police) must be held accountable for wrongful death of citizens with the same standard that the government holds the citizens.

Now let’s talk about the Hard Rock Hotel collapse.
“Hold on there buddy. Comparing the explosion in Lebanon to the collapse in NOLA is comparing apples to oranges.”
No it’s not. It’s comparing three apples to 200 apples. Only quantity is different.

City officials negligent in their duties have directly lead to the deaths of citizens. The only protests, and outrage, were over the ridiculously long period of time that it took to recover the bodies. I’m sure when that is done, the mayor will give everyone a pat on the back and hopes this goes away for good.

Where the fuck have you been New Orleans citizens? I watched all of you spend a week protesting an event that took place in another city. In your outrage you want another city to seek justice for one death, but you don’t seem to give a damn about your own city killing three. What’s the problem? These local deaths aren’t trendy enough? It isn’t nationally hip and cool enough for you to care? A late-night talk show host didn’t tell you to go out and protest it, so you didn’t?

The audacity of our own city officials encouraging the George Floyd protests in New Orleans during a lockdown for the rest of us. Great smoke screen for Mayor Karen, point to another city’s lack of accountability for its employees while sweeping her own under the tarp.

Records show the city engineers failed to even go to the construction site on days they signed off on permits. Who were their supervisors? Who supervised the supervisors? Yes there were a couple of resignations—with a pension, I bet.

Those city engineers will probably now go work for private developers and construction companies where they will be the ones sliding an envelope across the desk with a wink to their former co-worker. I guess the voters are cool with that.

Where are protests from construction workers? Do Contractor Lives Matter? It’s your asses out there; these were your peers. I know, the companies that you work for would discourage you from protesting the very system that they enable and profit from. Your truck payment is more important I guess.

Didn’t the developer donate $70,000 to the Mayor and her cronies? Any investigation into that? We don’t trust cops to police themselves, but City hall can investigate itself?

This whole thing stinks like a rotting corpse over Canal Street.

Quinnyon Wimberly recovered from Hard Rock Hotel ruins