Thought Police Clamping Down at Amazon (Review of Coyote by Allan Steele)

For the first time ever, Amazon refused to post a review from me.

I’ve been reviewing there for a few years but only occasionaly do it now.

Here’s what they said in their rejection email:


Your review could not be posted.

Thanks for submitting a customer review on Amazon. Your review could not be posted to the website in its current form. While we appreciate your time and comments, reviews must adhere to the following guidelines:

We encourage you to revise your review and submit it again. A few common issues to keep in mind:

  • Your review should focus on specific features of the product and your experience with it. Feedback on the seller or your shipment experience should be provided at

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  • Advertisements, promotional material or repeated posts that make the same point excessively are considered spam.

  • Please do not include URLs external to Amazon or personally identifiable content in your review.


Got that? So below is the review. See if you find anything profane/obscene, any advertisements or URLs:

Typical Leftist Bias Torpedoes Story Potential

Evidently some other reviewers (on Audible) noticed the subtle (and not-so subtle) left-wing bias of the author. One reviewer basically said that’s a silly accusation because the captain of the ship is named after Robert E. Lee…therefore it has pro-freedom underpinnings.

Right. About that…

Classic case of leftists projecting and twisting facts/redefining words. I’m sure Lenin and Trotsky convinced people they were pro-freedom, too, when necessary to gather support.

Leftists are fine with individual liberty…as long as you think, speak, act and believe as they do. When you exercise your freedom as protected in the Bill of Rights but disagree with them on a significant subject, their inner Gestapo shines right through. They have long had a field day projecting their own tyrannical mindset (and other “liberal” virtues) on right-wing characters to demonize their opposition.

Just when the novel takes the plot in a direction where you get relief from the political undertones, the gender-bending cultural Marxism of the author kicks in.

I see this way too often, too, where the author is either female or a gamma male (aspiring to beta male) who wounds suspension of disbelief by building characters to breathe life into their own fantasies and fetishes. Macho women are the level-headed, iron-willed saviors in survival situations. The author takes revenge on the playground bullies who haunt his psyche by writing the alleged alpha males as cowards and sissies deep down inside. The quiet, artistic (how the author no doubt sees himself) passive, uncompetitive beta males are the only men who are not reprehensible in one way or another.

While this book is far from the most blatant example, I just wanted to escape this programming entirely for the length of a novel.

Oh yeah, Dr. Osaka is really inconsistent, too. The colony’s physician, her decision to tag along on the canoe trip was both unrealistic and monumentally stupid. Yet she is sage-like wise when the plot calls for it. In one scene she submits to Carlos’ authority (when it is foolish to do so) but in surrounding scenes she steadfastly asserts her dominance over all the males.

Gil Reese was a touch skitzo too, as written.

Planet colonization has huge story potential. This book didn’t live up to it, IMO.


Free expression of non-conformist ideas is probably now considered “hate speech” at Amazon. It’s a shame, because there’s a lot to like about that company. Nevertheless, here we are.

I’d also like to add something that wasn’t in my already-lengthy review:

Steele also dedicates a little time denouncing (through the narrative) the “social collectivists” who are basically communists. Through the Captain Lee character he also accurately opines that there is little difference in the oppression from a fascist regime than from a communist regime. His delusion is headquartered in the midst of the conflation of fascists with true right-wingers.

It’s a very common delusion.

The perspective of this narrative is classic NeoCon. NeoCons are socialists who focus on lower taxes and more military spending than their “liberal” colleagues. The first NeoCons, during the Cold war, were originally Democrats and other Marxists who thought Stalin and Mao went just a tad too far. They still were inspired to seek Marx-esque Utopia…but without all the embarrassing human rights abuses in the USSR and Red China.

They were called “conservative” because compared to the rabid Marxists in the news media who get to label people, they were still to the right. This is part of the reason why the term “conservative” is so confused as to be useless in political debate.

Eventually these Communist Lite advocates took over the GOP establishment, and now their control is ironclad–which is why we never get a true choice in our rigged elections.

The way Steele projects oppressive behavior onto the right reminds me of the Hugos and the Puppies.

  • Scalzi and Co. rant about how unethical Hugo Award voting slates are after he himself has been the author and beneficiary of voting slates.
  • The SJWs accuse the puppies of oppressing women, then with no sense of irony, No-Awarded Toni Weisskoph (and Patrick Nielsen-Hayden threw a tantrum directed at the wife of John C. Wright).
  • They accuse the puppies of opposing diversity in science fiction, while No-Awarding the only nominated editor of Latino and Native American descent (Vox Day) as part of their decade-long hate campaign against him.
  • Interesting that SJWs scream “the science is settled” to end debate about their dubious global warming assertions while the anti-puppies (SJWs in science fiction/fantasy) repeatedly insist DNA testing must be unscientific if it proves Vox Day’s minority credentials. After all, no REAL Native American is allowed to disagree with them.
  • Anti-puppies play Twitter Tough Guy, issuing death threats against the puppies, then never fail to claim that it’s the other way around and THEY are receiving death threats FROM the puppies.
  • SJWs accuse puppies and sympathizers of trying to deny free speech to others…while the SJWs try to deny free speech to the puppies.

You get the idea. And authors like Steele reliably engage in this kind of projection when depicting  characters/organizations they see as “right wing.”


Don’t Let Donald’s Swag Trump Your Brain

Let’s be honest: by addressing the invasion along our southern border, Donald Trump has elevated himself in our eyes well above the  cowards in the GOP who refuse to even speak on the issue. For that one little display of guts, a whole lot of people are willing to ignore, overlook, or forget a whole lot of other facts about Donald.

Let’s go back in history to 1991/92:

Globalist insider George H.W. Bush had achieved the presidency on the coat tails of Reagan’s track record, but quickly set about proving he was a Republican In Name Only (RINO), infamously breaking the “read my lips: no new taxes” campaign promise and dismantling what was left of American industrial infrastructure. However, a crucial milestone in his betrayal of the USA (the sovereignty-infringing, economy-poisoning NAFTA bill) would never survive Congress without an overt Democrat ramming it through the Democrat-controlled legislative branch. The big unions would not believe the lie (that NAFTA wouldn’t hurt jobs) from a closet Democrat in Republican drag like George Herbert Walker Bush.

So Bush’s handlers determined he should only have one term, and it was time to launch their next political dynasty on the “other side.”  The pathologically lying, America-hating, drug-dealing, amoral Bill Clinton would be the new figurehead to shift America’s demise into overdrive.

Only problem was, a jug-eared upstart named Ross Perot announced his intention to run for president. He gained constituents from both left and right. He shot to the top in the polls, leaving both the establishment puppet candidates in the dust.

In those days I paid more attention to the mainstream media than I do now, and I followed that race very closely. Late in the game, Ross Perot had a comfortable lead, with Bush in second and Clinton dead last–the exact opposite of what our domestic enemies wanted.

Then the whole political landscape began to smell overnight. With a margin that would let him coast to victory in November, Perot suddenly withdrew from the race, declaring he “couldn’t possibly win” as his reasoning.

The next morning the poll positions were reversed–exactly as the globalists wanted them to be. Clinton was now the frontrunner, his evil twin and sitting President in second, and Perot dead last.

Then, with the confidence of his base demolished, now that it was actually true that he “couldn’t possibly win,” Perot re-entered the race.

What did Perot’s campaign accomplish at this point? Only one thing beyond the novelty factor: he pulled enough votes away from Bush to let the Teflon Traitor coast to the White House with relative ease.

For anyone but a coincidence theorist, it’s obvious that the power brokers got to Perot somehow. He never amounted to much more than comedy relief from then on (except for helping Clinton get reelected in another four years). Either something happened to his mind during that time, or his subsequent Clark Kent/Don Diego de la Vega ploy was acted out so that few people would take him seriously. More importantly, few people would ask serious questions about the bizarre, inexplicable self-inflicted sabotage of his own campaign.

Back to Trump: don’t let tough talk on one or two issues seduce you. The dude is in bed with the Clintons and his positions on other matters don’t suggest he is interested in the national course change that would probably be too late to save us now, anyway.

And those who hold the power would never allow the necessary course change to be carried out, anyway.

What is his media circus accomplishing right now? Mostly, it’s serving as a distraction to protect the Teflon Traitor’s criminal wife Hillary from much public scrutiny.

There are only a few possibilities here:

  • Trump is genuine and would actually try to make the course correction (unlikely), in which case he’ll never be allowed to make it past the primary.
  • Trump is just another stooge who would be little different from Bush, Dole, McCain, Romney, etc.
  • Trump will eventually run third party in order to take votes away from the GOP nominee (Ross Perot-style) and give the election to Hillary.
  • There will be no more allegedly fair elections, and Hussein will declare emergency powers in the wake of any number of impending national emergencies (most likely). The only “elections” from here on out will be Soviet-style.


There is No Political Solution

Before I explain that title, let me expound on it:

  • There is no political solution to the trouble America is in.
  • There is no economic solution.
  • There certainly is no racial solution.
  • There is no cultural solution.
  • There is no moral solution.

If you don’t recognize (or don’t care about) the calamity faced by the United States of America right now, then this post is not for you. Good-bye.


For the last 102 years, the USA has incrementally abandoned the principles that made it so great and prosperous. It was so great and prosperous that it continued to thrive for a time even while being strangled by suicidal policies antithetical to our foundation.

112th Congress Convenes On Capitol Hill
How the ideological battle of wills manifests in Congress.

For the most part, this national suicide has been driven by the Democratic Party. Which means the solution must be the Republican Party, right?

Wrong. Even when the GOP wins elections…even when they control the Executive Branch and BOTH HOUSES OF CONGRESS…the course correction is never made. Nothing of import changes for the better.

We’re supposed to believe that some quibbling about the degree of taxation, or funding one undeclared war instead of another, represents a profound difference between the two parties. Let’s argue about whether we should be speeding over a cliff at 90 MPH or 60MPH, and censor anyone who believes we shouldn’t be speeding toward the cliff at all. Meanwhile our freedom continues to be usurped and our sovereignty stolen no matter who wins our dubious elections.

LEFT: “Good one, Mr. President! Next, let’s get them fighting about Confederate flags while we pass the TPP.” RIGHT: “Have fun paying for our welfare while we steal your elections, pendejo!”


The GOP captured both the House and the Senate once again on the promise to defund Obamacare and secure the borders, just to name a couple. It’s painfully obvious they never intended to oppose their Democrat “opposition” in the first place.

They are both marching to the tune of the same drummer. That drummer is not We the People who foot the bill.

Some Americans are waking up, but are vastly outnumbered by the subversive forces invading (or the ones already here, and firmly entrenched).


You can pontificate on the stock market, interest rates, oil prices or minimum wage until you’re blue in the face, and you haven’t even acknowledged the core of our problem.

There is more than enough information out there about the system of fiat currency that has been illegally foisted on us to rob from/destroy the middle class while amassing all the real wealth in the coffers of the international bankers. If you have any interest in the truth, you can educate yourself on it.

“Relax–we’re professionals. When we destroy an economy, rest assured that we receive the compensation due professionals with our expensive credentials. You wouldn’t want to be financially decimated by some amateur.”


Disaster was deferred by tweaking some minutiae inside this criminal system for a while, but it can’t be prolonged anymore.

We can’t avert disaster by working inside this system. The system can’t be fixed. The system was designed to fail, and economic devastation is now inevitable. “Quantitative easing” is just Newspeak for an insane notion of doing the same thing while expecting a different result. It prolongs disaster for one more election cycle while ensuring the disaster will be even more disastrous when it comes.


I can’t believe how often I’m hearing Internet Rednecks talking as if all our problems are caused by skin pigment or DNA.

CFRWake up, you ignorant tools. It was lily-white traitors who sold us out and who perpetuate our slide into oblivion. Certainly they use illegals and ignorant minorities (among others) to exacerbate the problems. They also count on your ignorance to misidentify the core problem, and you’re not disappointing them.

If racial uniformity was what is needed to preserve a civilization, then National Socialist Germany would still dominate Europe today, and be stronger than ever. And even if that were the case, it’s hardly the kind of place you would want to live (unless you’re a masochist whose fantasy is to live like a slave that only does, speaks and thinks what he is told).


Why does the majority of the population support (or at least tolerate) the very policies and “laws” that lead to their own subjugation, impoverishment, and eventual outright destruction?

TVherdingAs many of you know, it’s because of cultural conditioning. They have been intentionally dumbed-down, and programmed to think and behave according to patterns of self-destruction by everything they watch, listen to, and read (for those who still can read).

On the one hand, it’s encouraging to see phenomena like the Sad/Rabid Puppies, Truth Revolt, the CLFA and various other entities challenging the collectivist gatekeepers at some strongholds of pop culture. It’s encouraging to see Drudge Report and InfoWars reporting on what the lapdog media works so hard to cover up.

On the other hand, it’s too little/too late. These battles should have been joined 30 years ago at minimum.


It took generations to drive us down to the moral, political, economic and cultural abyss that we find ourselves in–and there was virtually no resistance.

There would be tremendous resistance trying to regain what we’ve lost, and it would take generations to regain it.

We don’t have generations. We don’t even have one generation. Oblivion is staring us in the face right now. I’m not even sure we have a year.

After we have been reduced to a third world police state, all the cultural battles we could fight will be moot. Not that you’re allowed to speak freely in a police state, anyway.


Morality in America is a joke, now. It’s sad when even a murderous KGB scum like Vladymir Putin has the (relative) moral high ground to remark upon it. But it can’t be denied. The USA is now a moral cesspool and is getting worse faster than we can even track it.

Multi-Colored Lights Illuminate The White House To Honor Gay Marriage

Yet the old adage “you can’t legislate morality” is more true than ever, for a number of reasons. One reason is that those in a position to legislate it are themselves morally bankrupt.


Our political, economic and racial problems are just symptoms. Effective, meaningful action could have been taken on all these fronts as recently as 30 years ago to alter our course away from national suicide. But our moral depravity had corrupted our thinking, making accurate self-evaluation impossible.

But moral depravity is just a symptom, too.

We believed so many lies, and drowned ourselves in a moral cesspool, because we were programmed to do so through the culture.

But the culture is just a symptom, as well.

All these systems afflict us, feed on each other, spread and perpetuate because of the core problem. And because, as a nation, we reject the one true solution.


Had we not turned against the Creator God who blessed us in the first place, we would have maintained the moral strength to reject lies, embrace truth, be good stewards of our culture, make sound political and economic decisions.

mandelhouseMoreover, we would have had the courage to reject the evil men who hijacked all of the above.

As has happened to other nations throughout history, and as His M.O. demonstrates on an individual level, the judgement of God Almighty doesn’t necessarily always manifest overtly like fire from heaven, or the plagues of Egypt. He often just removes His grace (His “hedge of protection” if you like) and allows the person or nation to become a victim of its own folly.

He allows us to wallow in our own immorality. Sometimes, in fact, He dispatches deceptive spirits to hoodwink us–since we love deception so much, anyway. In our subsequent moral meltdown we completely expose ourselves to treasonous forces within us, and ravenous enemies from without.islam

This is what we now face, America.

I’m not sure how much longer your coincidence theory, normalcy bias and other forms of self-delusion will even be possible. (Long enough for most of you to dismiss me as a crackpot, fearmonger and/or religious fanatic, of course.) I am convinced it won’t be much longer.

The USA may still be called by the same name. Might still have the same flag. Might retain some of the ostensible trappings to pacify useful idiots. But the constitutional republic we have taken for granted will be gone.

Those of you who survive the coming hope and change may find your options somewhat limited.
Those of you who survive the coming hope and change may find your options somewhat limited.


Your only hope is in the God of the universe, and in His anointed (that is, the Messiah who came clothed in human flesh, whose name was given as Yeshua, or Jesus, and who will one day return to collect what He paid for on the cross).

Anything else you could trust in will soon be removed.

And He warned us these days were coming, by-the-way.

Just like the USA, the Earth and everything on it will one day pass away. But God is eternal and so is your soul. The decision you make regarding Him is the most important you will ever make. It will determine your fate in the next world: eternal life; or the second death.

Choose now, and choose wisely.

Race-Baiting is “Divide and Conquer”




This was BS duty. Jake McCallum trained his team for direct action. That’s what their purpose was. And yet here they were in a rented storefront doing flunky work that the local cops were more than capable of.

Local cops were there. And state troopers. So were the U.S. Marshalls and reps from competing federal agencies. Mac’s boss had played up this assignment as a “joint task force” operation that faced a significant threat. The threat level was exposed for what it really was when they were told they wouldn’t need helmets, armor or rifles.

In this little store front meeting room, local police and federal agents were busy collecting information from outraged members of a group that had been circulating a petition for secession. The perps were forced to surrender their wallets and let the agents go through their I.D., insurance cards, credit cards, cash and other personal items. Cellphones were confiscated and checked. They were grilled regarding places of employment, aliases, alternate addresses, friends and relatives. While local and federal agents recorded information on them, the group members protested, but were obviously not going to offer any violent resistance.

When Mac remarked about this bogus operation, his boss told him it was a sort of quid-pro-quo job. They relied on the NSA’s intelligence database for some of their raids. It was a good idea to pay the NSA back once in a while with this kind of hands-on data mining that couldn’t be accomplished online when the DomTers didn’t advertise their personal and group information on social media.

On first glance none of these group members looked like domestic terrorists. They were all middle class; most were middle aged; they were dressed conservatively and practiced good personal hygiene. And they weren’t all white. Mac couldn’t imagine them carrying bombs or rifles. But they sure were carrying dangerous ideas around.

Still, Mac’s men would be better employed against somebody who did look, smell, and act more like a terrorist.

While his men helped interrogate the people in the store front, Mac’s mind wandered back over the few operations he’d led since taking over this team. He cringed upon remembering he’d have to write the report for the last operation.

Mac had been putting this off, because he didn’t want to deal with it and wasn’t sure how to spin it: The raid on the Tasper house in Texas had been carried out with clockwork precision–his experience as an operator had finely honed his ability to organize and lead such missions. Trouble was, the intelligence was faulty. After busting in the door at 0300, rounding up the family for questioning, and cracking the gun safe, they found nothing illegal. At least nothing currently illegal.

Mac’s boss had offered to “season” the site. Plant evidence, in other words, so Mac would be credited with a good bust for his efforts, at least. This was something else that bothered him, but he’d give it more thought later when he’d dealt with other matters.

Other matters like one of his shooters: Samuels.

It was bad enough the operation was all for nothing, but Samuels had to stomp a baby kitten to death in the little girl’s bedroom. The Tasper family was complaining about that to their representative more than about the damage to their house. How was he going to explain that incident in the report?

Mac’s tablet beeped to warn him of an incoming file. He stepped outside through the back door to look it over.

Another Contingency Profile from Domestic Intel. He opened it and began reading about Gary Fram, whose profile raised just about every red flag there was to raise. Mac studied the satellite and street-level images of Fram’s house. Within a few moments he had decided which SOP, with what modifications, would work best for a home raid. He’d drafted enough of these contingencies that he could get the basic plan spelled out succinctly, to be adjusted further in the future, according to situation, policy, or team assigned, if a raid was greenlighted. But before he finished drafting a contingency for the profile, his phone rang.

He recognized the incoming number as one of Jeffries’. “Yo, what’s up DeAngelo?”

“What’s goin’ on, my brotha. Hey, I’m in the neighborhood, man. You wanna get some chicken wings?”

Mac checked the time. He hadn’t eaten for quite a while and realized he was famished. “That sounds like a plan,” he said. His team really didn’t need his supervision to finish this data mining flunky work.

The local Hooters was packed every night, but at that time of day they had it mostly to themselves. Their redhead waitress was about a seven, but would probably only rank a five without the makeup, push-up bra and short shorts. They ordered beer and the hottest wings available.

“So how you settling in?” DeAngelo asked, dipping his first wing in dressing.

Mac nodded, tearing a hunk of meat off a wing with his teeth. After swallowing, he said, “I’m getting the hang of it.”

“From what I hear, you’ve got the planning thing down,” DeAngelo said.

It was good to know somebody appreciated Mac’s ability. He wondered who DeAngelo knew in his chain of command to get this information, though.

“That’s good,” DeAngelo went on. “You gotta represent, Mac. You’re the only brotha up in there. Make us look good and they may hire some more of us.”

“How is it where you work?” Mac asked.

“A lot like major league baseball–it’s mostly a white show, with a few of us token niggas so they can say they’re not prejudiced.”

“The few, the proud, the nappy,” Mac remarked, and they both grinned around their spicy chicken meat.

The waitress came by to check on them and replenish their beer. Both men watched her little white booty as she walked away. Mac couldn’t help wondering what she’d be like. He’d heard a lot of comments about how crazy redheads could be. Crazier than white chicks in general.

Mac sobered up quickly, though, when he remembered Samuels. “You ever had to deal with a shooter who pushed things just a bit too far?”

“What’s up, man?” DeAngelo asked.

Mac told him about the kitten-stomping incident. DeAngelo listened, then shrugged.

“He’s just being a white boy,” DeAngelo said. “Half of them are psychopaths, man. If they weren’t working for the government, they’d be serial killers or something. Did you hear what happened in Texas?”

Mac shook his head. He’d been too busy to check the news.

DeAngelo frowned, his eyes flashing something dangerous for an instant. “More white cops, man. Pulled this brotha over for nothin’. Drag this brotha out his car and beat him to death right there, man.”

“What set them off?” Mac asked.

“Drivin’ While Black,” DeAngelo said, shrugging. “They’re tryin’ to say he didn’t have insurance, and that he attacked them first. Six different cops, man. There’s video going viral, though. He didn’t try to defend himself until they started beatin’ on him.”

Mac immediately thought of Eric Garner and grew infuriated. “This is too much, man. How far are they gonna try to push us?”

DeAngelo shook his head slowly, with a hard scowl. “I’m tellin’ you: local police are nearly as bad as the Constitutionalists. And state police ain’t much better. All those good ol’ boy networks, man. You’d think they’d be extinct by now, but they’re gettin’ even stronger. It’s all gonna come to a bum rush one of these days.”

Every time they talked, DeAngelo sounded a little more militant in his worldview, but that matched Mac’s own evolving mindset. White people’s media and entertainment might be getting ostensibly more sensitive and diversified all the time; but at the same time there were more and more bloggers, blog followers and social media participants sounding less sensitive and more separatist. Their boldness grew daily as they railed about the decline of western civilization. They called African-Americans “feral,” referred to mixed relationships as “mudsharking,” talked about Caucasian heritage like it was something to be proud of, and even used the phrase “white supremacy.”

“You think it’s any better at the federal level?” Mac asked.

DeAngelo swigged some beer down and made a face. “It’s a white man’s world over here. America is racist–no way around that.”

Mac nodded. “I’m the Jackie Robinson where I am, seems like.”

“Not even that, my brotha,” DeAngelo said. “You’re a Buck. I’m a Tom. At least that’s how The Man sees us. They talk a lot of shit about equality and all that, but when it comes down to drawing lines, they’ll side with their own. You and me are useful to them for now, but we’ll just be another couple niggas to them eventually.”

Mac licked buffalo sauce off his huge fingers, then stared at the texture of the skin on a drumstick while forming his words. “You hint around a lot that something big is coming down, racially. You know something I don’t?”

DeAngelo sighed. “Off the record?”

Mac held his hands out and raised his eyebrows. “Just you and me talking, man.”

“These cats like Sharpton and Jackson are a joke,” DeAngelo said. “Nearly everybody knows it. They ain’t done a damn thing for black folks, except make Whitey hate us even more. It’s like two gangs getting ready to rumble out there, man. Actually more than that—the Spics already outnumber us, and it’s gettin’ worse every day. But imagine something like Baltimore or Ferguson, only nationwide, and our people actually throw down this time. Meanwhile, Whitey is thinkin’ if he can’t have us for slaves anymore, he should either kill us off or send us back to Africa.”

“Race war,” Mac said. “You think it’s gonna come to that?”

“Oh, I know it is,” DeAngelo replied, solemnly. “And like I said, we may not just be fightin’ the whites. Might be a three-way fight with them and the Spics…or they may gang up on us. And that ain’t even puttin’ the Asians in the equation. You know there’s never been any love lost between us and the Slopes, man. They’ll most likely side with Whitey, too.”

Mac let this sink in. It was a lot to process. He knew there would always be rednecks, and some degree of white privilege, but had always assumed life would continue on pretty much as it was. Or, if anything, get better. They had finally gotten one of their own people in the White House, after all. For two terms. But DeAngelo talked about a coming attempted genocide like it was a done deal.

“That’s one thing makes working with the feds an advantage,” DeAngelo said. “We’ll be able to see it coming a lot farther off than those poor brothas in the hood.”

“And then what?” Mac asked, the pitch of his voice raising.

“Again, off the record,” DeAngelo said, locking eyes with Mac.

Mac nodded.

“Me and some other brothas been gettin’ together. Nothin’ official, and still we’re careful about what we say and how we say it. But we all know there’s a day comin’ when we’ll have to look out for each other, y’know? Mutual protection.”

Yes, Mac decided, that was smart thinking. It wasn’t just a good idea—if what DeAngelo said was true, it would prove to be a necessity.

“Hey, you know the circumstances we met under,” DeAngelo said, shrugging. “Like it or not, I know all about your background. And because I know it, I know we could use a brotha like you, when it all goes down.”

DeAngelo was inviting Mac into some kind of clandestine brotherhood within clandestine agencies. One that might make all the difference in the survival of their race in North America.

Mac had made friends in SF, in Delta and as a contractor. Some of those friends were black; some were other minorities; some were white. But he lost touch with most of them and gave up on the rest as politics became a more and more powerful influence in everyone’s life. You just couldn’t agree to disagree anymore.

In Iraq the man he trusted most was Leon Campbell. But Leon got out of the contracting biz, went back to the States and started a business with friends. Mac had other guys in SSI he got along with–some who he’d even dodged bullets and eaten dirt with. But none of them knew what it was like to be black. They never would–and probably didn’t want to.

DeAngelo knew. And he was in touch with others who knew. There was power in that.

“Give me a holla next time y’all get together,” Mac said.



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16


The image link to False Flag (the entire book) is  on the upper right sidebar. You can watch the accompanying Youtube video here.

Liar, Liar–a Textbook Red Pill Movie

While my footprint shrinks I’m making a point to spend more quality time with family. I left the selection up to them for movie night last weekend and they chose this old Jim Carey vehicle.

I laughed a lot despite myself, and also couldn’t help noticing how it nailed so many major manosphere themes. The only thing missing is a false rape accusation, to make it the ultimate neomasculist flick with every box checked.

For the duration of the film, the title character (a lawyer) is involved in a court case. It is a divorce-rape of the highest magnitude, depriving a good father of his children and awarding half of all he has worked for to a gold-digging slut who has been habitually unfaithful.

liarliar2Meanwhile, the lawyer’s own life is a perfect demonstration of game, and the female rationalization hamster at work.

He is a remorseless BS artist who thinks nothing of manipulating and using people to get what he wants. And this attracts people all the more.

Just during the length of the movie you lose track of how many times he flakes out or blows off his ex-wife and their son. But no matter how many times he does it, she’s always ready to give him another chance. Meanwhile, her supplicating beta boyfriend orbits (even proposing marriage), doing everything “right,” but just can’t generate the tingles in her like the reprobate main character does.

At one point, when under a spell forcing him to tell the truth, the liar admits to his ex that he blew off their son’s birthday to have sex with his cougar boss in order to make partner in his firm. She is angry, initially, but goes right back to her old ways of giving him undeserved chance after chance.

By the end, the beta chump is dumped (despite being and doing everything women say makes the “perfect” man) and it’s obvious that, when the sun goes down after the last scene we are shown, the ex is going to invite the liar back into her bed.

A sad commentary, of course, but no less true because of it.