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Rip Van Whitey

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Rip Van Whitey
Zzz…

A Prehumous Writing of RedStater Knickerbocker

By Woden, God of Saxons,
From whence comes Wensday, that is Wodensday,
Truth is a thing that ever I will keep
Unto thylke day in which I creep into
My sepulchre.

– Eric Cartman

Whoever has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the Catskill mountains. At the foot of these fairy mountains, the voyager may have described the light smoke curling up from a village. It is a little village of great antiquity, having been founded by Dutch colonists. In that same village, there lived many years a simple good-natured fellow of the name of Rip Van Whitey.

He was a descendant of the Van Whities who figured so gallantly in the chivalrous days of the pre-modern era. He inherited, however, but little of the martial character of his ancestors. I have observed that he was a simple good-natured man; he was, moreover, a kind neighbor, and an obedient hen-pecked husband.

Indeed, to the latter circumstance might be owing that meekness of spirit which gained him such universal hatred and envy of the execrable great brown hordes; for those men are most apt to be weak, obsequious and conciliating abroad, who are under the discipline of shrews at home. Their tempers, doubtless, are rendered pliant and malleable in the fiery furnace of domestic tribulation. A termagant wife may, therefore, in some respects, be considered the root of all evil.

The white children of the village would shout with joy whenever he approached. He assisted at their sports, made their playthings, taught them to fly kites and shoot marbles, and told them long stories of ghosts, witches, and Indians Native Americans Original Peoples. Whenever he went dodging about the village, he was surrounded by a troop of them; and not a dog would bark at him throughout the neighborhood.

The black children of the village, however, sensing weakness in good old Rip, would never hesitate to clean his clock as part of their primitive and savage “knockout game”. Rip would seldom be able to recall the event, having smashed his frail head upon the concrete, but he refused to believe the accounts of witnesses that it was the poor wittle bwack children—angelic, ever-innocent, forever oppressed—who would do such a thing. Rather, he listened to the talking heads of the Ministry of Truth and academics in the towers of Higher Indoctrination who insisted he tripped over his own white privilege; and that, even if it were poor wittle bwack kids cold-cocking him for no reason whatsoever, he deserved it because racism. And slavery.

The great error in Rip’s composition was an insuperable aversion to all kinds of self-defense. It could not be from the want of courage. He would never hesitate to flip the bird from the confines of his minivan to someone he deemed too aggressive a driver (unless that driver was black, of course); he would never hesitate to bravely denounce the racism and nativism of his fellow whites when they objected to their civilization being submerged under the Great Brown Goo. In a word Rip was ready to come to anyone’s defense but his own—and to any race’s defense but his own. But as to doing racial duty, and keeping his society in order, he found it impossible.

One fine day, whistling, he walked through the door of his ramshackle house and found himself immediately subject to a squealing tirade from his enraged wife.

Shrew
The loving wife.

“WHYDOYOUALWAYSSLAMTHEDOORANDLEAVETHETOILETSEATUPANDNEVERTALKTOMEANDALWAYSFEELLIKEYOU’RE
IGNORINGMEANDNEVERREPLACETHEPAPERTOWELSANDDON’TEARNENOUGHMONEYANDWENEVERGOOUTANYMOREAND—”

With that, all of the long-stemmed wine glasses in the china cabinet shattered from the pitch of her voice alone. There was a welcome moment of relief from the verbal fusillade as they both stared incredulously at the site.

But just as quickly as the moment of silence came, it went.

“SEEWHATYOUMADEMEDOYOULAZYIGNORANTHATEFILLEDBIGOTEDRACISTSEXISTHOMOPHOBICANTISEMITICNEONAZI
ISLAMOPHOBICXENOPHOBICNATIVISTTEABAGGINGREDNECKI’LLTAKETHEHOUSEANDTHEKIDSANDLEAVEYOUHOMELESS
ANDCHILDLESSANDF***WITHYOURHEADUNTILYOUKILLYOURWORTHLESSSELFTHESEBOOTSWEREMADEFORWALKING
IAMWOMANHEARMEROAR…”

At this point, he decided to go for a walk.

To be continued…

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26 Comments

  1. Spurwing Plover

    Those who take part in knock out gameshould get 40 to 50 years in prson No Parole,No Plea Bargins,No visitations, No interferance from Jessie Jackson and company and No Movie Deals from Spike Lee

    • David in SC

      But justice demands that they be unknowingly subjected to their own crime before being incarcerated, better yet, deportation only cost us once. Prison means we will have to care for them for life.

  2. LoL!

    Please continue this series I love fables and stories. I think Rip Van Whitey married my ex-wife, that poor son of a bitch has my sympathy.

    Howeveh, I would like to point out that the picture associated with this children’s story is entirely inappropriate… Is that an automatic assault weapon with a thirty round CLIP I see in that old white farts hand? I’m sure the Big Sexy shoots at hogs with a .223 that looks just like the one in that picture

    • Looks like a blunderbuss, no?

      • A tactical blunderbuss in the old timey days of slavery back in the 1950’s before Cell phones, but still a better hog killer than AWD’S .223 was my point 😉

        Don’t forget to finish this fable, I am waiting to see if Van Whitey’s wife gets help for that postpartum Hysteria.

        Love the picture by the way, like I said reminds me of someone.

  3. Excellent Red one of your best or at least in the top five in my opinion! There I said what you told me to now can I have some extra time on the money I owe you?

    http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JFVMLxVExsw/U_x-NFpz3YI/AAAAAAAAPwM/M0lEFNggAwY/s1600/redneck39.jpg

  4. David in SC

    Good one Red!

    And then one day he found an old book in a tree stump and began to read, it told him how his people had created great cities and marvelous inventions. How they sailed the oceans and found opportunity everywhere. There was a copy of the constitution in the book and as he read the lines he began to weep. Then he noticed a gun in the hole and for the first time in his life he stood up straight, feeling the pains of liberty in his old bones he swore he would never be victim again.

  5. Spurwing Plover

    Off subject but a see where that crack-pot E.O. Wilson wants to return half of the world to pristine nature Yeah lets start with this wackos own neighborhood its probibly pretty wild itself the green nuts a falling from the tree

    • I love it when idiots say crap like that, They in all their self righteousness have never driven across this country or Canada. As an owner operator I’ve been everywhere at least twice it saddens me to see all the abandoned farms and I love the rush of nothingness for hundreds of miles. dickheads like this should really STFU. Our land is doing fine, in fact its almost empty. Its the economy that’s killing us. Awhile back I saw an old abandoned farm with a family cemetery. With nothing better to do I stopped, three generations were there. As a country boy I know what happened …BIG AGG. they went broke and lost the farm now its just empty kinda like this fellas soul

  6. Funny…. but only today I was thinking that the white man is his own worst enemy.
    Why else, for example, would Britain PAY Turd Worlders to come live in their island home, only to have them destroy the very fabric of British society? The same can be said of all Western societies… we encourage the brown and black Third World to come to our countries, and then we simply ignore the devastating effects it has on our societies.

  7. Sweet Baby Ray

    Maybe deciding to go mo really is the lesser of two evils

  8. The goddamned white liberal male and these “baby boomers” have run up the white flag and fully plan on following Gov Jerry Brown and Obama right off the multiculturalist/ diversified cliff

  9. Pingback: Rip Van Whitey, Part 2 - Angry White Dude

  10. Pingback: Rip Van Whitey, Part 4 - Angry White Dude

  11. Pingback: Rip Van Whitey, Part 5 - Angry White Dude

  12. Pingback: Rip Van Whitey, Part 6 - Angry White Dude

  13. Pingback: Rip Van Whitey, Part 7 - Angry White Dude

  14. Pingback: Rip Van Whitey, Part 8 - Angry White Dude

  15. Pingback: Rip Van Whitey, Part 9 - Angry White Dude

  16. If only we could ban the adds that override the text.

    • rp…

      I’ve read where others have stated same as you over time, some don’t post here anymore. You might want to suggest that to AWD’s improvement of his site list s at the top of this column.. – Just a thought.

  17. Pingback: Rip Van Whitey, Part 10 - Angry White Dude

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