Posted on 11th October 2013 by Administrator in Economy |Politics |Social Issues

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I guess the weather has been so good for so long around here that the morons in the Philadelphia area forgot how to drive in the rain. It has rained for the last two days and Boobus Americanus have lost their minds. They are crashing into each other, driving off the road and generally acting like idiots. It took me 75 minutes to get home last night, just in time to drive my son to his driver’s ed class. I hope he didn’t learn anything from me on the trip to the class.

Then this morning topped it off. I heard that the Schuylkill Expressway was jammed due to flooding (we wouldn’t want government drones to clear debris from the storm drains in advance of a storm), but there was an accident on the Blue Route, so I couldn’t take my alternate route through the 30 Blocks of Squalor. I proceeded to spend an hour and forty five minutes crawling at 3 mph on the Schuylkill. Only one man knows how I was feeling.

I can’t wait to order breakfast later this morning.


I would highly recommend that no one cross me today. I’m in a mood.



Posted on 8th October 2013 by Administrator in Economy |Politics |Social Issues

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We now know the name of the man who committed the desperate act of self-immolation. We know where he lived. He was a senior citizen, so I’m sure he has family, friends and neighbors who can provide some insight into his life. He lived in Mount Laurel NJ, just outside of Philadelphia.

If he was just depressed over something, he could have committed suicide in his house. But he drove to the nation’s capital and committed a ghastly suicide in a spot where it would generate huge notice. He was making a statement. Of course, the MSM has been keeping an extremely low profile on this tragedy. If he was a white man who had shot a few black kids, I’m guessing the MSM would be all over it 24/7.

The MSM and the powers that be don’t want the American public to see how desperate people are becoming in this Greater Depression. It is their job to distract, mislead, and misinform.

This public hari kari on the National Mall was designed to send a message. This man surely left a manifesto describing why he did this. When will it be revealed? Or will the authorities cover it up? We’ll see.

N.J. man identified in National Mall fire suicide




Posted on 17th September 2013 by Administrator in Economy |Politics |Social Issues

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Just another day in West Philly. I drive in front of the Morton McMichael Elementary Prison, I mean school, every day on my way to work. It sits directly across the street from the $28 million low income gated townhouse community known as Mantua Square, paid for by you as part of Obama’s $800 billion porkulus plan. The video will give a flavor of the neighborhood. The school looks like it should be condemned. The storyline of using your money to build a palatial low income housing community in the midst of squalor and row houses that fall down during a heavy rain storm was that it would elevate the community and revitalize commerce and community spirit. I’m not sure having little boys raped at 8:30 am in broad daylight is a sign of revitalization.

Driving through this ghetto on a daily basis is depressing. The people who live in this community are about as low on the economic totem pole as you can go from an income standpoint, but my visual observations don’t match the reported data. I see black men wandering the streets at 5:00 pm talking on their iPhones and wearing Jordan sneakers. I see boarded up hovels, but the occupied dumps have Direct TV satellite dishes. I see brand new Jaguars, Explorers, BMWs, Lexus, and Cadillac Escalades parked in front of $20,000 houses. Monday is trash day in West Philly. The poor folks living in the Section 8 low income housing gated townhouses generate an awful lot of trash, considering they’re so poor. These people are throwing out leather sofas that are nicer than the sofa I have in my family room. I regularly see furniture and 50 inch HDTVs being tossed out in the garbage in this neighborhood.

Every Thursday is free food day at the church on the corner, supplied through Philabundance, another tax payer funded scam. When I drive by at 7:30 am, there is usually a line of  at least 50 people waiting for food. They even bring their own chairs to wait in line. They need the chairs because 80% of the people in line are obese. Do you remember the pictures of poor people waiting in soup lines during the Great Depression? Were any of them fat? The irony evidently doesn’t deter these people from getting their piece of the pie. What I never see in this neigborhood is a father walking their kids to school.

The Mantua Square project was built only three short years ago. I regularly see union drones doing repair work to this poverty palace. Was the original union construction so shoddy, that it is already falling apart or is this just bullshit work for city union workers? This Obama Keynesian wet dream was constructed with 8 retail stores on the side facing the McMichael school. Mayor Nutter and his HUD minions knew that if they built it they would come. All of the retailers would revitalize the Mantua economy and this would draw more retailers and more new housing. After 3 years there are a total of ZERO retail stores open. ZERO. Not one fucking retailer in three fucking years. I can’t understand why a retailer wouldn’t want to open in a neighborhood where little boys get raped at 8:30 in the morning and drug dealing is the number one occupation. Maybe the city can open a rape counseling center in one of the 8 vacant retail storefronts.

Here is a link to everything you don’t want to know about this oasis of squalor within a city of squalor:

Some highlights or lowlights:

  • There are 8,700 people living in about 3,500 households.
  • 95% of the people are black.
  • The median household income is $21,000 (most of which is provided by you through entitlement transfers)
  • 56% of the poulation is female, as males are either killed or sent to prison.
  • Only 17% of the households are occupied by married couples.
  • 39% of the households are occupied by single mothers.
  • 45% of the population has dropped out of high school.
  • 47% of the population is living below the poverty line.
  • The crime rate is three times the national average.
  • The true unemployment rate is above 50%.

Whose fault is this? Is it Wall Street’s fault? Is it the fault of white people?

The City of Philadelphia has been under the complete control of Democrats since the 1950′s. Every policy implemented in the last sixty years was based upon liberal Democrat theology. The Democrat War on Poverty started in 1965. The Philadelphia School System has been in the control of Democrats and the teacher’s union for decades. Mantua is occupied by black people. Whose responsibility is it to keep a community safe? Mantua is a microcosm of a failing nation. The entitlement mentality destroys a culture, a community, and a nation. We are witnessing a slow motion collapse and it ain’t pretty.


Philadelphia police are investigating an incident in which a 12-year-old boy was sexually assaulted near a school in the Mantua section.

Police say the child was walking to the Morton McMichael Elementary School on 38th Street and was just three blocks away when the incident happened at 8:15 a.m. Monday.





Posted on 13th September 2013 by Zarathustra in Politics |Social Issues

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100 is a pretty pathetic number, but it’s a start.

Jews say no to AIPAC and say no to bombing Syria

 on September 13, 2013

In three days 100 Jews from around the world signed on to a statement sharply critical of AIPAC and other Jewish bodies lobbying for President Obama’s war resolution against Syria.  Hopefully people will refer to it in their efforts with the media, Congress, teach-ins and rallies.  It reads:

We Jews Oppose Calls for the U.S. to Bomb Syria

 We are appalled that the American Israel Public Affairs Committee is sending hundreds of people to lobby Congress to approve a resolution to bomb Syria. The media also reports that Sheldon Adelson and the Republican Jewish Coalition are pushing hard for war. We don’t want it to be known that Jews stood silent as the powerful Israel lobby helped push the U.S.into a war in defiance of international law and American public opinion.

The Israeli government should stop pointing the finger and admit its own abuses of chemicals. It used white phosphorus in its terrible 2008 attack on Gaza. Over the years it has used tear gas recklessly and killed and sickened many, many Palestinians.

The Israeli government’s apparent belief that Jews are better off if Arab or Muslim countries are devastated one after another must be challenged and repudiated.

Petition started 9/9/2013

Stanley Heller, host of The Struggle Video News, Connecticut
Liz Aaronsohn, Ed.D., retired professor, daughter of a rabbi
Medea Benjamin, Code Pink
Lenni Brenner, Hamden, Connecticut, Author, Zionism In The Age Of  The Dictators
Seth Farber, New York
Tamar Pelleg-Sryck, Human Rights Lawyer, Tel Aviv
Tony Greenstein, UK
Dan Fischer, Bridgeport, CT
Angela Godfrey-Goldstein, Advocacy Officer, The Jahalin Association, (Al Khan el Ahmar)
Alisa Klein, Leeds, MA, Public Policy Consultant and anti-war activist
Miriam (Goldberg) Swenson, New Jersey, retired professor
James Cohen, Paris, France, Professor, University of Paris 3 (Sorbonne-    Nouvelle)
Judith B. Solomon, NYC, Women in Black
Jennifer Loewenstein, Wisconsin
Diana Neslon, Greater London in the United Kingdom
Joseph Levine, Professor of Philosophy, University of Massachusetts         Amherst, Amherst, Massachusetts
David Finkel, managing editor of AGAINST THE CURRENT (affiliation for identification only)
Tsilli Goldenberg, Jerusalem, Israel
Darlene Wallach, California, Justice for Palestinians
Savvas Michael-Matsas, Greece
Steve Krevisky, Congress of Conn. Community Colleges-4C’s/SEIU
Ivy Sichel, The Hebrew University, Israel
Aram Saroyan,Los Angeles, writer
Jane Harries, Wales, United Kingdom, Coordinator for Fellowship of       Reconciliation in Wales
Dustin Friedman, New York
Alice Rothchild, MD
Dorothy Naor, activist against the Colonization of Palestine, Israel
Dorothy M. Zellner, New York member, Jews Say No!
David Makofsky, retired Anthropologist, Oakland, California
Tamar Yaron, Israel, Encounter-EMEM for Israel-Palestine peace    activities
Warren Davis, Philadelphia, Exec. V.P. (retired), AFGE L. 2006
Stewart Robinson,Jewish Voice for Peace
Karen Platt Albany CA JVP member
Beverly Stuart, Seattle, WA
Alice Kisch, JVP and am also a steering committee member of NorCal      FOSNA (Northern California Friends of Sabeel-North America
Sylvia Finzi (London)
Yom Shamash, Vancouver, BC, Canada, Independent Jewish Voices
Neil Hertz, Ithaca, NY, Professor of Humanities, emeritus
Ethan Young, Brooklyn NY
Ned Rosch, Portland OR
Gilbert Wald, New Jersey, small businessman, Yale graduate 1972
Ken Cornet, Washington, CT USA
Sherna Berger Gluck – retired academic, activist
Judith Kolokoff , Seattle WA., Human rights activist
Michael Letwin, Jews for Palestinian Right of Return
Marcia Bernstein, Brooklyn,retired social worker
Lenny Lapon, Springfield, MA, Educator
Murray Polner, USA. editor-writer
Kimberly Dugan, West Hartford, Connecticut
Seth Godfrey, New Haven, Ct., Business Reference Librarian-New Haven Free Public Library and Commissioner on the City of New Haven      Peace Commission
Hedy Epstein, St. Louis
David Letwin, Jews for Palestinian Right of Return
Lyn Stein, San Francisco, CA
Libby Frank, Philadelphia, Pa. Member Middle East Comm., Women’s     Int’l. League for Peace & Freedom
Paula Orloff, Nevada City, retired teacher
Yoram Gelman, Tarrytown, NY — and Haifa, 1940
Paola Canarutto, Italy
Laura Myerson, WESPAC
Lillian Rosengarten, only American on the Jewish Boat To gaza in 2010,  psychoanalyst, poet and writer
Rael Nidess, M.D., Marshall, TX USA
Leslie Lomas, Ph.D., Boulder, Colorado
Mike Kurland, Mansfield Center, Ct.
Miriam Kurland, Mansfield Center, Ct.
Aram Ayalon, professor of Teacher Education, CCSU, New Britain
Elizabeth Block, Toronto, Canada
Kit Wainer, teacher, NYC
Diane Isser, Philadelphia
Dr Brian Robinson, Retired NHS psychiatrist
Milton Keynes, England UK
Moshé Machover, Professor(emeritus), Israeli dissident
Abe Hayeem, Chair, Architects and Planners for Justice in Palestine          (APJP), UK
Rosamine Hayeem, London, UK
Charles Post, NY, PSC-CUNY/AFT 2234
Sherry Wolf, International Socialist Organization
Robert Naiman, Urbana, Illinois, Policy Director, Just Foreign Policy
Carol Walter, Farmington CT
Richard Kuper, Highgate, London, UK
Martin Oppenheimer, retired professor, Franklin Twp. N.J.
Henry Norr, Berkeley, CA USA
Beryl Maizels, Wembley, Middx., retired language teacher, JfJfP
Batya Hecker, Austin, Interfaith Community for Palestinian Rights
Tikva Honig-Parnass, Israel, Jews for the Palestinian Right of Return
Hillel Tictin, Professor-Emeritus, University of Glasgow, Scotland
Roland Rance, Britain
Inbar Tamari, Britain
Malkah Feldman, MA, USA
Myrna Fichtenbaum, Lawrenceville,NJ
Annie Zirin, Evanston, Il
Professor Dennis Kortheuer, Long Beach, Ca.
Emily Chisefski Alma, Coordinator, Chico Palestine Action Group, Chico, CA
Jean Pauline, Bay Area Women in Black, Oakland, California
Tami Etziony, Bay Area Women in Black, Oakland CA
Judith Bernstein, Munich, Germany
Carl Rosenberg, Vancouver, BC, editor of Outlook: Canada’s Progressive          Jewish Magazine
Sid Shniad, Surrey British Columbia, Member, national steering      committee, Independent Jewish Voices Canada
Kamran Ghasri, Iranian-American Jewish from Los Angeles, active with   Israel Divestment campaign,     CA Green Party
Judith Weisman Toronto Ontario, Independent Jewish Voices
Dorothy Field, Victoria BC Canada
Sam Bernstein, Seattle, WA
Sarah Wolf
Paula Friedland Panzarella, New Haven, CT, poet and peace activist
Sherry Gorelick, Women in Black Union Square, NYC, Professor Emerita,         Rutgers University
Phyllis Bloom, L. Ac., Woodstock, NY
Marian Feinberg, Environmental and Social Justice Activist
Sid Frankel, Ph.D., Associate Professor, Faculty of Social Work, Winnipeg,       Manitoba, Canada
Marcia Almey, Ottawa, ON

The petition will be updated at:

New names welcomed:  [email protected]



Posted on 13th September 2013 by Administrator in Economy |Politics |Social Issues

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Maybe Snookie, the Situation and Christie can do a commercial together to beg for money to rebuild the Seaside Heights boardwalk again. Maybe Congress can give fatboy another billion or two of our money. You would think a newly constructed boardwalk would have the latest and greatest fire prevention measures. Maybe union construction jobs don’t require such things. At least Christie will be able to go on TV for five hours per day acting concerned and guaranteeing all the resources of the government to rebuild the boardwalk. Of course, all these businesses should have property insurance, so the taxpayer shouldn’t pay a dime. Right?

I’ve got the slogan for fatboy’s next commercial, paid for with your money. – WE’RE STRONGER THAN THE FIRE!!!!

He didn’t even have to pay me $25 million of your tax dollars to come up with it. You’re welcome.



Fire Destroys 80% of Boardwalk in Sandy-Ravaged Jersey Shore Town

Crews have the fire under control, although it is still burning

By     Lauren DiSanto

|  Friday, Sep 13, 2013

Fire crews continue to battle hot spots left over from Thursday’s massive boardwalk fire.

Flames spread rapidly along the boardwalk in Seaside Park as dark smoke was spotted from miles away.

“I see thick, billowing, black smoke with ruby red flames. It’s still raging out of control,” said Justin Auciello, of Jersey Shore Hurricane News, who was on the scene this afternoon.

The fire, which started around 2:30 p.m. near Kohr Brothers Frozen Custard shop on 1800 Boardwalk, has destroyed at least 80 percent of the boardwalk in Seaside Park, according to Seaside Park’s Police Chief, Francis Larken. More than 50 businesses have also been destroyed.

“The only building that’s not consumed by fire is part of the arcade and the Saw Mill Café,” Ocean County Fire Chief Brian Gabriel said in a press conference early Friday.

Seven hours after it started, crews had the fire under control, according to Seaside Heights Police Chief Thomas Boyd. But as of 5 a.m. Friday, firefighters continue to put out flames.

“This is obviously just an unthinkable situation, for us to be standing here and watching this, what’s going on behind all of you is just unthinkable,” said NJ Governor Chris Christie earlier today. He also said that when he first heard the news he told he staff ‘I feel like I want to throw up’ after all the work this area did to rebuild.

Gov. Christie estimates that 400 firefighters were called to the scene. Those crews cut a 20-foot wide  trench along the the boardwalk at Ocean and Lincoln Avenues, in the hopes of stopping the fire from spreading.

Flames did move over the first trench forcing firefighters to head to the Lincoln Ave. trench.

It was there that they were able to contain the blaze.

Christine Hemingway was working inside Kohr Brothers this afternoon and said it appeared as if the smoke was rising from underneath the boardwalk.

“Our manager came running through the stand and said ‘get out,’ we go around the corner in front of Biscayne Candy and there was smoke coming up from the boardwalk,” said Hemingway. “There was a little smoke and then all of a sudden, it got real thick and black.”

A dispatcher for Seaside Fire Radio also received a report that the fire was coming from underneath the boardwalk.

“Report of flames showing underneath the boardwalk by the Sawmill,” that’s the audio call put out to crews dispatched to the scene.

Strong winds, whipping at speeds of 30 to 40 miles per hour, were the biggest challenge for firefighters called in to respond from neighboring NJ counties.

“It’s an all call, which means anybody that has equipment [in Ocean County] are asked to respond,” said Al Della Fave, of the Ocean County Prosecutor’s Office, who is handling calls for the Sheriff’s office while they are on scene. That means up to 33 municipalities can respond.

“It’s all hands on deck and they’re doing the best they can, but the winds are really making it difficult,” said Della Fave.

Embers blew for at least 8 blocks, igniting a fire at the nearby Royal Sands Condominium complex at Sumner Avenue and Ocean Terrace, which was quickly put out. Those embers also landed on area homes and businesses.

Nancy O’Brien runs EJ’s Dance Club at 919 Boardwalk, which is about a  mile and a half from the fire. Even at that distance the smoke was a real  nuisance.

“It’s pretty acidy. Our eyes are burning. It’s very, very windy,” O’Brien told NBC10.

The area of the boardwalk between Stockton and Farragut Avenues, in front of Funtown Pier, was not destroyed during Superstorm Sandy, but the pier itself was, becoming a symbolic image of the storm’s destruction.

An estimated 90% of the 33 rides on Funtown Pier were lost in the storm. The pier, which was not open this summer, became fully engulfed in flames, destroying the small portion that was left standing after the storm.

“It’s just devastating to the area. It’s just heartbreaking to see.   After what we just went to almost a year ago, and now this. I’m just in  disbelief and shock over this. I can’t believe it, ” Larkin said.

NBC10 cameras captured part of a structure on that pier falling down.

The fire also spread to at least four blocks of the boardwalk in neighboring Seaside Heights, which was destroyed by Sandy and then rebuilt.

“Mainly after everything they just went through. I feel so sorry for the people that had businesses and didn’t have insurance and put their own money back into it to make it work,” said Patty Dibiase, who watched as the fire burned.

Several firefighters suffered minor injuries, mostly heat exhaustion and smoke inhalation.

 New Jersey Natural Gas isolated gas service just to the boardwalk area. No residents have been affected.

The Port Authority of New York & New Jersey had more than a dozen personnel responding to the scene to assist.

Non-emergency personnel are being told to stay away.

“We are asking people to stay away from the area so that firefighters can fight this fire,” said Donna Flynn, Public Information Officer for Ocean County Emergency Management.

The Mathis Bridge, which connects Toms River to the Seaside area was closed to non-emergency vehicles, as of 5:30 p.m.

All roads leading into the area of Seaside Heights and Seaside Park are closed except to residents.

Seaside Park Mayor Bob Matthies estimates the damage from the fire will be in the millions.

“The resiliency that was demonstrated before will be called upon again to rebuild this section of the town and the commerce on the boardwalk,” said Matthies.

Below is a before and after look at the landmark Funtown Pier.



Posted on 2nd September 2013 by Administrator in Economy |Politics |Social Issues

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How inconvenient for the liberal control freak douchebags.

If they are too dimwitted to understand the meaning of negative correlation, I’ll explain it for them. The more legally owned guns there are in a community, the LESS violent crime. Meanwhile, in the liberal shithole paradises of Chicago, Philly, Camden, New Orleans, Baltimore…… the strict gun laws have done their job.

… and finds… 

Indeed, “data on fire‐arms ownership by constabulary area in England,” like data from the United States, show “a negative correlation,”10 that is, “where firearms are most dense violent crime rates are lowest, and where guns are least dense violent crime rates are highest.”11 Many different data sets from various kinds of sources are summarized as follows by the leading text:

[T]here is no consistent significant positive association between gun ownership levels and violence rates: across (1) time within the United States, (2) U.S. cities, (3) counties within Illinois, (4) country‐sized areas like England, U.S. states, (5) regions of the United States, (6) nations, or (7) population subgroups . . . .12

Oh darn.

It’s not a very difficult read and, IMHO, well worth your time.

If you care about objectivity, that is.

Now let’s add in another ugly little fact — we’re now talking about Obama intending to initiate violence against a nation which may, if undertaken, in fact be aiding terrorist-affiliated rebels.

It’s time to ask these would-be-Mussolinis an uncomfortable question:

Since we have the facts cited in the above paper — that there is a negative correlation between civilian firearms ownership and crime — exactly what is the real reason these very same politicians want to restrict civilian firearms ownership?

A Slice Of Life From Chester, PA


Posted on 2nd August 2013 by Stucky in Economy

We all know how bad things are in Detroit, Chicago, and other Big Shitties.

But it’s just as bad in Everytown, USA. Linh Dinh, a Vietnamese immigrant, is a pretty good observer and writer of every day life.

Chester, PA sounds like a lot of small towns in NJ.


Chester on the Edge


Traveling by train to Philadelphia, going North, you will pass by Chester, PA, a city that has been in decline for more than half a century. Founded in 1682, the same year as Philadelphia, Chester was a major manufacturer of US Navy ships from the Civil War until World War II. It also made ammunitions and automobile parts. Despite its relative small size, with a peak population of 66,039 in 1950, Chester was an industrial powerhouse.

In 1926, Mrs. Marin Garvey won a $160 washing machine for coming up with an enduring slogan for her city, “What Chester Makes Makes Chester.” This was fashioned into a huge electric sign that impressed countless rail passengers until 1973, when it was dismantled. Who can forget the sight of Mr. D’ancona taking down the S, T, E and R? Many have sobbed to this day. Though Chester no longer produces anything, saves babies and premature corpses, the same slogan adorns bright blue banners in its mostly derelict downtown. Entire buildings are abandoned and falling apart, its windows boarded up with graying plywood or left hollow. Others have first floors occupied by gasping businesses offering cheap clothes, wigs, way too expensive sneakers or Obama posters and T-shirts. “WE WON!” “HOPE WON!” “YES WE DID!” On sidewalks, black marketeers offer incense, body oils, bead necklaces, underwear and sox. The Cambridge Restaurant has been put out of its misery, thank you, Lord, for I sure won’t miss their home fries, but Italian Brothers is still hanging on. They do make decent hoagies. It is claimed that Chester’s Catherine DiCostanza made the world’s very first in 1925, to feed a starving gambler ambling over from Palermo’s Bar down Third Street.

Lots of Italians back in the day, as well as Irish, Poles, Jews and Ukrainians. With Chester’s industries gone, they have mostly scattered. Recently, though, I walked by a downtown store front and saw all white people inside, a truly rare sight in contemporary Chester. It turned out to be an art opening, with tentative or frustrated watercolors and oils of a snowy pine tree, a pensive cat, a covered bridge or Cubistic jazz musicians… On pedestals, lumpy ceramics. A shy, charcoal nude lounged on a smudgy, charcoal sofa. A man waved at me to come in, so I did, “Hey, what a surprise to see an art opening! Is everybody here from Chester?”

“Not all of us, but we live nearby.”

A woman appeared, “Did you sign our guess book? Come, come, sign our guess book.”

As I printed my first name, though, she said, “We do have a suggested five dollar donation.”

I have attended many art openings, from Soho to art school, to suburban old ladies’ watercolor society, but I have never encountered an admission fee, and five bucks also mean two Rolling Rocks at the Gold Room, one block over. Seeing me cringing, the lady added, “It’s for the wine and cheese.”

“Forget it, forget it,” I crossed my name out, and walked out to her “No! No!” At many art openings, you do see hungry art students, an odd bag lady or a clearly homeless guy stuffing their faces with cheddar and crackers while draining Yellow Tail Shiraz or Duck Pond Chardonnay, so the five buck fee may be a measure to prevent undesirables from crashing this schlock fest.

What made that art bad wasn’t so much execution but orientation. Rootless, it was indifferent to its surroundings, that is, it didn’t pay attention to Chester, didn’t care at all for it. No art is worthless if it reflects in any way its place of origin, so no painting, photo, poem or short story about Chester can be bad if it reveals any aspect of this place, but to do this, one must first pay close attention. Folk art is never without charm and interest, but much of cosmopolitan art is mediocre since it is removed, in time and distance, from its original moment of inspiration. This cosmopolitan art may be partly salvaged by its backwoods dilution, distortion or bastardization, however, but the pleasure is likely mild, the humor unintentional. Seeing a show of Canadian Impressionist paintings in Ottawa, I remember thinking, Why? And would you care for Thai Suprematism, Ugandan Constructivism or Fijian Neo Geo? With globalism unraveling, we can return to the local in each sphere of our lives, and that means a revival of regionalism in all the arts. We’ve been jerked about by the distant media long enough, teased and dictated by distant cultural centers. It’s time we observe and listen to what’s right in front of us.

It was a Saturday evening, but Chester’s main drag, Avenue of the States, was mostly empty. Even fifteen years ago, there would have been many shoppers, or loiterers, at least. Now, there was hardly a parked car to break in. On both sides of the street for an entire block, there was only one business open, Huddle Barbershop. On this scorching night, two box fans were kept on high. The owner/barber would work until 10PM, at least. In his window, a flyer with “Get To Know Your Candidates. ‘Let’s Get Back To Progress,’” with the faces of two smiling, suited yet unnamed individuals, one man, one woman, with the man much taller.

Wanting to meet, or at least see some people, I decided to go to the Gold Room. On the way, I walked past the old Excelsior Saving Fund, with its sign reduced to “UND.” The Gold Room is large and cool, with three pool tables and five televisions. Once settled at the bar, one will notice two shelf altars featuring incense, the Vajaradhara and a beer-bellied Chinese God of Wealth, so is the owner Asian? No, just a black Buddhist. I came in as the daytime bartender was finishing her shift. Walking out, a middle-aged white guy hollered, “Your husband must be a wonderful man, because you are a wonderful lady!” She smiled, naturally. Minutes later, she said to some young guy, “Ah, you look wonderliscious today! That’s a new word. I’m gonna patent it!” Then she complimented some giggling and boobiliscious apparition, hovering at the far end of the bar, backlit by a Southern Comfort light from heaven or hell, “You’re so sexy. I can just hug you!” A man in his late twenties then chimed in with a false note, I think, “I’d love to spend money on both of y’all.”

This verbal orgy finally stopped with the new bartender, but she also gushed in her own way, with a low cut dress that flaunted a glittering, burning skull on her buttocks, and “MISFIT” in bold black on her back. What a pun, eh, with a skull as pelvic girdle, or dead head as live bottom, with the anus where mouth should be? “From my booty, death will rise,” she emitted wordlessly. “You may think you’re staring at my ass, but you’re just seeing your own cracked skull, sucka. I mean, sugar.”

Thirty-years-old, Misfit was born in Chester, but left at 17 to work in a home for retarded people in Williamsport, in the idyllic Poconos. It didn’t pay very much, but it got her out of Chester. After nine years doing that, however, she took a $950 course to become an emergency medical technician, that is, an ambulance attendant, for which she was paid less than $2,000 a month, take home, then she was let go. She tried hard, but couldn’t land a similar job anywhere else, so she settled for this bartending gig. Misfit admitted that business was also down at the Gold Room, and no one she knew was doing well, “But we’re in a recovery nationally, right?”

“No,” I said, “and it’s only going to get worse.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, I travel all over the country, and it’s the same shit all over, and everyone I talk to says they’re not doing well. Well, eight or nine out of ten, anyway. Almost no one is doing well.”
“So what should we do?”
“You just have to cover your own ass, that’s all.”

I should have said, “You just have to cover your own skull, that’s all,” or better yet, “We just have to cover each other’s flaming skull, that’s all.” As the only bar in downtown Chester, the Gold Room should survive for a while, so Misfit’s job is probably safe, but like many people these days, she must be willing to switch jobs at a moment’s notice, do something entirely different to survive. The word career has become nearly meaningless. We have all become career improvisers.

At someone else’s mercy, we can fit in momentarily, but from their careful, cost-cutting calculation or sudden, inexplicable whim, we become misfits again, for that is what we are. We’re not misfits as fashion statement, but essentially. Try as we might, we cannot adjust ourselves dexterously enough to our rapidly shifting surroundings, of which we have no role in shaping. In Flannery O’Connor’s “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” there’s a misfit who says, “I was a gospel singer for a while […] I been most everything. Been in the arm service, both land and sea, at home and abroad, been twict married, been an undertaker, been with the railroads, plowed Mother Earth, been in a tornado, seen a man burnt alive oncet.” He has also killed, robbed and been jailed, and though everything has happened to him, nothing matters, because nothing makes sense. Sounds familiar?

You think you’re a housepainter? Wrong! A secretary? Wrong! A nurse? Wrong! A professor? Wrong! A pipe fitter? Wrong! A dock worker? Wrong! Though nothing adds up, one still has to eat daily, so one solution is to become a mass murderer, if only in an auxiliary capacity. At Concord and 7th, I saw a flyer in a torn plastic sleeve, stapled to a light pole:




To kill or be killed is here presented as improving oneself and one’s family, as sheer survival, for in trading in one’s freedom, humanity and conscience, one will get adequate health care and nutrition, maybe even a home in a safe environment. To attain these basics, however, one must first become a berserker. Kill! Kill! Kill! I In Harrisburg, I had encountered a National Guard poster:

There are all kinds of moments you’ll experience where you serve the people of your community in the National Guard. If you’ve got it inside you, this is your time to act.

The accompanying image showed soldiers standing outside a suburban home during some kind of rescue mission. This is very reassuring, for they are not threatened in any way, nor are they menacing anybody. They’re not kicking down some foreigner’s door and terrorizing his family, and most importantly, they’re not getting their nuts blown off seven or eight time zones away. As a National Guardsman, you’ll only be rescuing your neighbor’s siamese from some midget tree, this poster was implying, and you’ll be home in time to watch your dreadful Phillies.

I wanted to get away from downtown Chester, drink in a neighborhood dive and hear, or overhear, what those folks have to say, so I decided to go to the Love People Lounge on Highland Avenue. I had no idea what that neighborhood was like, but I had seen this bar from the train, many times, and had always wanted to walk in because of its irresistible name. When I got there, though, I found out that it had been closed, with even its sign removed. Oh well, I thought, let’s find another place to drink, so I started walking.

In many distressed cities, as in Detroit, Gary, East St. Louis or Camden, to walk into the unknown is to be a reconnaissance scout or a suicide, not so much a tourist, and Chester has a violent crime rate more than four times the national average, and it was sunny that day, meaning perfect for a mugging, but also ideal for a pleasant walk, and I was getting very thirsty for a Colt 45 or a Yuengling, so I kept walking. In truth, it wasn’t half bad. I passed Give Me Suga, an inviting Caribbean joint serving jerk chicken and oxtail. I saw people sitting on their porches or steps, and two pudgy, middle aged men, one black, one white, sprawled on folding lawn chairs beneath a bouffant tree. Every so often I’d see a desperate sign offering a home for less than $20,000, cash, and presently I came to another house that looked abandoned, with no glass in its windows and its door boarded up, but there was a newish Direct TV dish attached to its wall. Is it possible that someone was watching a movie on demand, say, Titanic or The 40 Year Old Virgin, while lying on a bare mattress, with a half finished bag of Cheetos next to him? In winter, snow drifts into the gaping windows as he cheers our hapless Flyers. Since it is dark, and nobody’s outside, no one who’s up to any good anyway, he can comfortably piss from the second floor, his dick en plein air, as they say. With tall grass and weeds besieging, and no air conditioning or heat, this home is a rough-and-tumble, back to nature dwelling, a cabin in the woods, except no bears will attack you here, only men down to their last quarter or fix.

There were no lit beer signs at the front, so Sporty’s West End Cocktail Lounge didn’t even appear open, but I could hear the hum of the air conditioning, so I opened the door and walked in. Sporty and his bartender seemed a bit startled to see me, but everything was cool as I sat down and ordered a bottle. It was just after 1PM, and I was the only customer. For the next two hours, the only other patrons only sneaked in to buy a six-pack or can to go. As she left, a woman in her late 40’s shouted to Sporty, “Make some money now!”

“I’m with you on that!” Sporty then returned to his video game, with its thin, whistle like gun shots constantly discharging. Video blood splattered as he charged through his enemy, shedding corpses by the wayside. There was a pool table and five televisions, all left on, with the biggest one showing an episode of “Have Gun—Will Travel.” A sneaky Chinaman was caught reading other people’s mail, then later, some mustachioed crank snarled, “Who cares what any woman wants.” During a firefight, a bullet merely grazed a man’s elbow, causing him to rub it.

In most working class bars at this hour, you’d find old men, at least, and perhaps contractors who have finished their work early, but here, like I said, I was the only drinker. Dangling from the drop ceiling were stars, astroids and a round cornered piece of cardboard urging me to “CELEBRATE.” I noticed the young bartender had on a snug tank top, and a pair of black and white shorts, showing some sort of African design. There were signs all over the walls:

1- The stone after the throw….
2- The word after it’s said….
3- The occasion after it’s missed….
4- The Time after it’s passed….

Featuring A Ethnic Diversity
For A Rollicking Good Time


In This Establishment
If You Don’t Have A Drink
Or If You’re Not In Line
To Play Pool.

1 GUN = 5, 10, 15 YEARS OR MORE

On the last was an illustration of a prison cell, with the silhouette of a man sitting on a cot, his head down. Across from him, an open toilet and toilet paper. A large handgun hovered outside the prison bars.

There was also a group portrait of movie gangsters, with Al Pacino’s Scarface in the middle, hoisting his badass M-16A1, then, high up on the wall, an image of Martin Luther King and Obama, their heads merging into one another, with “I HAVE A DREAM” on top, and “I AM THE DREAM” on the bottom. In almost every black bar, you’ll find images of Obama. At Scotty’s, near my South Philly apartment, there’s an Obama shrine complete with red tinsel, foil flags and a string of tiny lights resembling condomed pricks or aerodynamic milk bottles, all surrounding a sacred likeness of our Chief War Lord and Patron Saint of All Banksters.

Hardly loquacious, Sporty finally grunted that the bar was empty because it was the end of the month, “Come back in a couple days, there’ll be people here.” Running out of beer money is hardly the poor’s biggest concern these days, for towards the 28th and 29th, the fridge may have long been empty, not to mention that pile of ignored bills, some still in their envelopes, unopened. Soon, the cable may be shut down, then gas, electricity and water, in that order. Chester is already half shut down.

Martin Luther King spent three years in Chester, and graduated from Crozer Theological Seminary in 1951, and outside the Crozer Library, there’s a large bronze bust of King. On another visit to the Gold Room, I met a woman who said she was born on King’s birthday, “And that’s very special to my family, because King was such a special man, you know.”

“I’d say he’s more important than any American in the last 50 years.”

“I’m very glad you think so,” she smiled.

I could feel myself getting a bit worked up, “Obama ain’t shit compared to King! King threatened them, and that’s why they had to kill him. King wanted to change this society. Obama doesn’t want to change shit!” I stared hard into her eyes. “If they’re propping up Obama now, that can only mean Obama is serving them! He serves them!”

“I agree with you,” she said, “I’ve always felt the same way. I’ve always known they had to kill him. Oh Lord, I think I’m going to cry. I’m going to cry!”



Posted on 1st August 2013 by Roy in Economy |Politics |Social Issues

From my 79 year old bullion dealer at He had a string of ice cream parlors and a string of movie theaters in Filthydelphia as he calls it. He sold out for reasons Jim has enumerated.


July 31, 2013

The various “wars on poverty,” which have gone by various names, but started with FDR, and have continued ever since, is a disgrace, and blight on our once free nation. John 12:8 has Jesus saying that “The poor will always be with you,” and that is absolutely true. Throughout history, and not just ours, but every nation in history, there have always been the poor. A famous Jewish proverb states that, ‘poverty is half laziness.’ It is impossible to eliminate poverty, because every human that ever lived, has different characteristics, brain power, social levels, birth situations, heredity, race, and all live under various governments, and historical situations. POVERTY CANNOT BE ELIMINATED! FDR, in his second inaugural address said, “I see one-third of nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished.” That was over 75 years ago, and in spite of hundreds of billions spent, it’s still that way. Welfare and government handouts, has destroyed the moral fabric of America, and bankrupted us. Forty four years ago, Kentucky journalist John Pearce wrote, ” I don’t think it ever occurred to any of us, that the New Deal legacy would be a welfare system that today supports millions who have neither prospect nor intention of earning their own living.”

All the wars on poverty are merely handouts by governments to garner votes for the party who gives largess, and it’s usually Democrats, but not always. All the government welfare ‘programs,’ (is there a more horrid word than ‘programs?’), are merely taking from the haves, without their permission, and bestowing unearned largess on those who are deemed to be poor, by ridiculous standards. The more money they print, the less it is worth, thanks to deficit spending, wars, and what seems to be hundreds or thousands of ‘programs,’ which steal from us all, by reducing the value of our dollars. When government gives to some, it has to take away from others. As a current bumper strip reads, “Fairness isn’t giving my money to lazy people.” Or: “Don’t spread my wealth; spread my work ethic.” Or: “Government doesn’t work. Please return my taxes.” Or: “Republicans work hard so you don’t have to.” Or: “I’m Republican, because we can’t all be on welfare.”

Wars on poverty, merely ruin the recipients, be it 2 years of unemployment handouts, public housing, food stamps, Medicare Medicaid, or hundreds of handouts too numerous to even count. Statistics show that unemployed people begin to look for work, when the two years of benefits are up. They’d look immediately, if they lost their jobs and had no handouts. Why look for work, if you get more money by not working, than if you work? Why work to feed yourself, if government gives you food stamps? Why work for housing, if you get free housing at public housing projects? Why worry about feeding your kids, if you can make a career out of having many illegitimate kids, and getting a handout for each one? There are thousands of usually fat, worthless, lazy, female, public housing residents, who have made a career of raising a dozen or more fatherless kids, and being supported by government. The kids will turn out as their mother turned out, and that is criminal, lazy, gang members, usually.

Temple University in Philadelphia is in a bad neighborhood, surrounded by public housing. Attendance is withering, because of the rapes, robberies, muggings and violence committed by the public housing residents in the neighborhood. When Temple was founded in 1884 by Russell Conwell, the neighborhood was fine. Conwell was a pastor whose best known speech and pamphlet was titled “Acres of Diamonds.” Temple has over 600 security cameras, and over 130 full time campus police who are as fully trained as Philadelphia police, but the violence continues. America’s first public housing, (1937, under FDR), was not far from Temple, and is still there, although it has been demolished and rebuilt many times, due to violence of its residents. When I lived in Philly, I had a chain of ten ice cream parlors. Store # 7 was in a white neighborhood, but a high rise public housing project was a few blocks up Ridge Ave, and the violence created by those scum, was unbelievable.

Yeah, I know, “You’re old, and this is 2013. You’ve got to get rid of all those ancient prejudices.” Oh yeah? Sorry, I am a lover of America before FDR, before welfare, public housing, gangs, heinous crime, and millions of worthless vagrants destroying the major cities. My ancient prejudices remember American history, when poverty ridden Jews occupied the lower east side of New York. They worked for slave wages, raised their kids to obey, work, and be responsible. They kept themselves clean, and their hovels clean also. They worked, slaved, and made it. San Levensen (Google the name) was a wonderful comedian, who was born in 1911, in abject poverty in the lower east side, and one of his best quotes, is, “It was on my fifth birthday, that my poppa put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Remember my son, if you ever need a helping hand, you’ll find one at the end of your arm.” Like that? Here’s another Levensen quote: “Any kid who has two parents who are interested in him, and has a houseful of books, isn’t poor.” Or another, which also applies to those who are in poverty: “Don’t watch the clock. Do what it does, keep going.” How about Ben Franklin, who once wrote in Poor Richard’s Almanac, “Laziness travels so slowly, that poverty soon overtakes him.”

I am certainly not against volunteerism, meaning voluntarily helping those who need it, if that person deserves it. I won’t help someone I don’t know. Why should I? I know plenty of people who need help, and I help them. Taxing everyone, and giving it to some bureaucrat who decides who gets my money, is utterly WRONG. It creates ever more poverty and laziness. If I were President, I’d eliminate all handouts on a ten year, gradual basis. Ten percent a year in all fields. Tear down ten percent of public housing each year, and cut out ten percent of food stamps and other handouts each year, and no new entrants. At the end of ten years, the crime rate would be cut ten percent a year, deficits by ten percent a year (if we were neutral anyway), and by the end of the ten year period, we might be a wonderful nation once again.

P.S. Like funny bumper strips? Try these, which were forwarded to me by a friend. “How long before you will admit that Obama was a mistake?” Or: “Obama and God have only one thing in common: No birth certificate. The difference is, God doesn’t think he’s Obama!”