Angry female BLM protester – “Say that to my face!”
Me – “Get Fucked Bitch!”
People are all about the scoop nowadays, but I wanted to give myself some time to reflect on the events of Tuesday, May 24th. It’s why I’ve written about this slowly, rather then just pumping something out. In fact, it’s been about two months. It’s in hindsight that more pieces of the puzzle appear – and so they certainly have.
In light of Milo’s recent Twitter ban, this charged confrontation with #BlackLivesMatter, which of course got away with this “protest” like the rest of them, may have been the catalyst to put Milo on Twitter CEO Jack Dorsey’s hitlist, specifically considering Dorsey’s relationship with DeRay. (It’s rumored to be more than just platonic.)
Now back to the topic of “scoops”. I’m part of this scoop.
I was there.
A lot of people talk massive shit online and live apparent grand wild adventurous lives skydiving from jet’s while exploring the amazon and banging girls around the world. Many of those people are full of shit. Me? I’m exactly who I say I am – a fighter in the culture wars.
I’m certainly not even close to an example of what a Christian should be in my conduct, but I’ve come to realize that in order for their to be monks, their must be soldiers who see the metaphorical blood of today’s culture war. I say this because I refuse to play one part in Church, another online, and a different side with friends and family. I am who I am.
It took me a while, but I’ve realized there are some fiends, creatures, and degenerates for whom you shouldn’t turn that other cheek. Rather, you should smash their cheek with an escalation of whatever tactics they have employed. Before I go further, background context is needed.
By the way, here is me at the event getting a hasty and not clear selfie with Milo who sported a toothy grin:
I took the day off in advance, arranged for my parents to babysit our infant son, and headed down to DePaul with my wife – pictured giving me a kiss below – to explore the city and meetup with friends for the Milo event at Depaul. (I had actually contemplated bringing our infant son with us, something I’m very glad I didn’t do as this kind of event is no place for a baby.)
Because of being the badass that I am – okay I knew someone who knew one of the DePaul republicans hosting the event, I and my wife got seats for the event.
After lunch, two fine beers, and some rather raucous conversation with our fellow friends in participants in crimethink, we got the student center about 5 where the line for the event began. (Forney had some interesting details about his coverage of the Primaries.)
Seeing Milo Yiannapolous in person explains why he is so popular, controversial, and evidence as to why modern day conservatism is likened to out-of-touch old nerds. His wit is razor sharp, he has a comeback for everything, and his charisma makes the quick talking points/facts he toss out more potent than any fact based argument does.
One thing you’ll notice about Milo is what he is and what he can become. Let’s face it, the message doesn’t matter as much as the how much people like the messenger. Conservatives haven’t gotten their head around this, which is why they lost the culture war, didn’t predict the rise of Trump, and are always fighting off the newest “ist” and “ism” label.
Milo the messenger is one reason why the Alt-Right has finally moved beyond the ivory towers of neo-reaction into an actual movement that isn’t solely based in cyberspace held up by anonymous thinkers. Essential they may be, the tent that is the Alt Right has expanded to “soldiers’ like myself.
Now as you all know, the Dangerous Faggot Tour stop at Depaul ended up being cut short by #BlackLivesMatter protesters who stormed the stage, grabbed the mics, threatened speaker Milo Yiannapolous and in turn were allowed to continue their intentional disruption and silencing of Milo and the event because, “Hate Speech.”
What should infuriate allies and protestors alike is the dishonesty that DePaul engaged in prior to this event when they tried to shut down the event with an inflated request for an additional $1500 for security. When security was actually needed to deal with the protesters who stormed the stage, they did nothing. Why?
DePaul told them to stand down. On top of that, so were the Police – which is shocking. Another twist in the story would reveal that the protester who threatened Milo, Kayla Johnson, has a mother who is the Chicago Police Department’s Director of Administration, hence why the police were ordered to stand down. Privilege indeed.
It’s these kinds of protestors that make me want to support Trump. Remember, I’m not yet a Trump supporter, but just to spite these assholes I want to become one. If they fear him so much, I’m starting to think there is a good reason for them to fear him.
I’m tired of taking it and seeing others take it from the hooligans that dominate the #BlackLivesMatter aggression movement. The fear I once had has been away and a mindset of angry resistance has taken it place. I this and let it fuel me after about 20 minutes into the protesters storming the stage.
A drove of people had left after Milo lead a march on the president’s office at Depaul – who has now resigned in light of the event a botched apology, and being caught in the crossfire between denouncers and social justice supporters at the university.
As the remainder of the people started to stream out of the room, a female black BLM superhero was rudely waving and saying vulgar insolent goodbyes to us dripping with sass and sarcasm. She had been at this since the 20 minutes she and her fellow interloppers stormed the stage.
Right then and there.
Goodbye indeed. She was going to hear every last ounce of my goodbye and it was going to shatter her self-esteem, trash her emotions, and as Walter White would put it, “Remember my name.” Or in my case, my face. Every last defined line in my face, scrunched in defiance.
I would use my Armenian genocide card to its fullest effect on the trust-fund privilege warriors. I was going to spew verbal vitriol and even esclate how nasty it was.
Watch this video and here you’ll see me – a guy with a “Adam Levine” haircut wearing a black #Meninist tank top with green shorts cussing my brains out in retort to that fat BLM black female protestor who had been talking massive shit the entire time on stage. Fire must be fought with fire. (The girl in the black tanktop and light blue shorts pulling me away from the stage is my wife)
In the first video you can see me at 2:10 for a while and 8:04. Notice what rhetoric I’m dropping.
Things I say: “Get Fucked Bitch” “Get Fucked” “Come at me!” Come here and see what happens!” At some point she tosses out, “Say that to my face!” I certainly did.
Notice how this creature could dish it, but couldn’t take it. She had to be held back by her fellow protesting tools. Honestly, I would have loved for her to thrown a punch. (Props to the black Trump supporter you see willing to get up and talk shit back to them.)
She would have been caught on camera and I would’t have physically retaliated. I’m not stupid enough to punch a woman – a black woman at that -back at a place like DePaul. I would have employed the legal fist of the law, which would have thrown a long cold wrench into her “activism” career, jeopardized her being a student there – violations of the student code, and would have ensure she would have been legally fucked. That’s how you deal with these types – by never dropping the charges.
You’ll notice how I dropped the Armenian genocide card, demanded they check their privilege, and anything else I could use their own shit against them. Normally, there isn’t a point to nonsense like privilege checking, but it serves as the perfect cocktail to throw into the mix against people – BlackLivesMatter – who don’t care about rational and logical arguments. Also notice how security decided to do something – and kicked me out. I should have have accused them of racism and discrimination in how they targeted a half-middleastern man like myself.
Here’s the second video – via the Breitbart livestream of the event – in which you see me to the right of the stage getting into it with her and the moment she tries to go at me.
I’ve been thinking in hindsight about how this reflects on me – specifically in a Churchian environment – as Vox Day would put it – and I’m even more convinced that my response was necessary. When you face an enemy that is devoted to your destruction, you pick up your sword. Perhaps other Christians would have been more Christ-like in their response. I on the other hand believe the money changers here need to be informed of their degeneracy – in the most vitriolic manner possible. When they escalate, you escalate and raise the pot by 100.