Douglas Mercer
November 12 2023
The Macarthur “genius grants” are those highly coveted Jewish prizes that get awarded to marginal niggers and spics and the occasional White traitors. The year 2023 was no exception to the rancid rule and it was a nigger fest through and through though, it must be said, the greasers did respectable too. When the spooks or wetbacks win one of these donations they get nearly a cool million and it’s no strings attached. This enables them to continue their work of bloodletting in undermining the White world, working towards getting the last billion darkies into the ancestral White homelands or, if they are an “artiste,” painting pictures of the horrors of the middle passage, or putting blood on canvas in honor of their great grandmother the jumped-up witch who preposterously went by the name of priestess. Among this year’s “winners” were Raven Chacon who reveals the legacies of European Colonialism; Imani Perry got the call and the cash for her “interdisciplinary” work about black activism; Manuel Munoz won for his dull fictions about Mexicans in the California Central Valley; Dyani White Hawk (wait: what?) is now a millionaire on the back of her embroidered canvases about indigenous practices; Patrick Makuakane is living large for his teaching about Hawaiian Hula (described as “uplifting); Courtney Bryan is rolling in the dough for her music that celebrates that new nigger on the Supreme Court and her aural paean to Michael Brown. You’d say the mighty have fallen but they have not fallen all that far; the first year saw winners such as Henry Gates who later was the cause of that risible Beer Summit; and Stephen Jay Gould, a vile Jew who spent his career arguing the ludicrous proposition that race is not real and that the blacks are not genetically inferior; but even in that inaugural year of 1981 they gave the award to one Robert Penn Warren; it’s safe to say today they would never give it to such man who, though dangerously soft on niggers, had some decent things to say about his native South. No, today the MacArthur prizes are the moral equivalent of what you get out of the bottom of a Cracker Jack box, though even there you might get a poorly constructed whistle that works for a day or so before falling apart. But with the MacArthur prizes of the Current Year and for many years past it makes you think that if these are the geniuses America is producing you’d really hate to see the dolts.
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One such dolt who got the nefarious nod is an execrable nigger who goes by the name of Tendayi Achiume. She’s so ensconced in the establishment bunghole that you wonder how anyone ever could accuse America of being a White Supremacist nation. No, the Tendayi Achiume’s of the world are the canaries in the coal mine and when you send them down and they come up not only living but smelling like a rose you know something somewhere has gone horribly wrong. When this was a self-respecting nation the likes of her would be lucky to have been among the living when sun up came. From her perch at the highest level of academia and institutionalized Jewry she hurls abuse at White people, slanders our good names, and for her efforts ascends ever higher and higher in the echelons of elite infamy. To say she’s made a killing on the back of killing us is to say too little. She has made White Genocide a paying career path. You can see why the MacArthur people picked her; because they of all people know that White people aren’t going to kill themselves. And a hired nigger gun make the Jews smile and laugh up their perverted sleeves.
“Tendayi Achiume is originally from Zambia and is the inaugural Alicia Miñana Professor of Law, and former Faculty Director of the UCLA Law Promise Institute for Human Rights. She is a Research Associate with the African Center for Migration and Society at the University of Witwatersrand, and a Research Associate with the Refugee Studies Center at the University of Oxford. The current focus of her work is the global governance of racism and xenophobia; and the legal and ethical implications of colonialism for contemporary international migration. More generally, her research and teaching interests lie in international human rights law, international refugee law, and international migration.”
That is in her person she is a Frankfurt School fever dream; she touches all the bases and doesn’t miss a trick when it comes to the Jewish agenda; indeed, had the Jews gone down into the basement and created a monster designed for their purposes they would have created Tendayi Achhiume and, who knows, perhaps they did. She’s the black widow spider of Westwood who crawls out of her web in search of prey; she’s travels among the nobs of England and tells them those small boats are justice incarnate; she pushes immigration as revenge; born in backwards Zambia (no country that starts with the letter Z can have anything worthy about it—I’m looking you Zimbabwe!) among the mud huts where the women still pop out little niggers like a pez dispenser; she decided not to come to America to run internet scams but to scale the anti-Olympian heights of the groves of academe from which perch she’s the sassy lady in the faculty lounge and tells the odd White man there to get on his knees; then under the auspices of the New World Order approved United Nations she roams the American countryside as a rapporteur (not a mere reporter mind you but a rapporteur) and wags her bony witch finger and sees a racist under every bed who must be expunged. To have come to such a pass it is elementary logic that something somewhere must have gone horribly wrong though in this case the things that went wrong are legion.
“The experiences of refugees are heavily mediated by race and ethnicity, and international law plays a significant role in this mediation—entrenching discrimination and exclusion. This Chapter makes four contributions. First, it articulates a structural and intersectional account of race, racial discrimination and xenophobic discrimination as essential starting points for international legal analysis of race and refugees. This analysis includes the overlap and distinctions between racial and xenophobic discrimination, as well as the role of religion, class and gender in shaping racial discrimination against refugees. Secondly, it reviews the doctrine on race and refugees in international refugee law and international human rights law. Thirdly, the Chapter canvasses legal scholarship that has examined the structure, history and development of the international refugee regime in relation to race. Finally, it concludes with reflections on a research agenda on race and refugees.”
“This Article explores the conceptualization of race and racial justice in relation to international borders in dominant liberal democratic discourse and theory of First World nation-states. Contemporary national borders of the international order—an order that remains structured by imperial inequity—are inherently racial. The default of liberal borders is racialized inclusion and exclusion that privileges Whiteness in international mobility and migration. This racial privilege inheres in the facially neutral legal categories and regimes of territorial and political borders, and in international legal doctrine. Central to theorizing the system of neocolonial racial borders is understanding race itself as border infrastructure. That is to say, race operates as a means of enforcement of liberal territorial and political borders, and as a result, international migration governance is also a mode of racial governance. Normatively, the Article outlines the specific relational injustices of racial borders.”
Unfortunately Google Translate has no category for either gobbledygook or gibberish to straighten this out in to plain Anglo-Saxon but, still, you get the drift. By tickling the ideological Jewish erogenous zones of equity and racism and larding it with a liberal helping of forms of the word colonial she was able to skyrocket to infamy and fortune and all of it from the beating heart of the formerly White world. By rights you would think this exercise in tortured prose came from an AI program dedicated to crabbed, stunted, and stilted English. But it does serve its purpose as a kind of camouflage somewhat muting its intent. She can’t go with the low ebonics of mumble mumble muffaga racism racism and the convoluted syntax it sounds so “brainy” after all. And were she just to unloose her true feelings and write Kill The White man an infinite number of times in blood on the department stationary it might be a little much for even the wizards and witch doctors of Westwood to countenance.
“The professor was the first woman to serve as the UN Special Rapporteur on Contemporary Forms Of Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia, and Related Intolerance. One of her reports was on the threat of national populism to racial equality, especially as it successfully advances heteronormative, patriarchal visions of the nation and a version of traditional values that leads to serious violations against marginalize social groups. She wants governments to outlaw racist organizations.”
The rapporteur role is a plum one for a bony fingered anti-White priestess such as herself; she has the shaved sides or her head and the big black weave on top and the money of the White world allows her to thunder against that world. Travel around don’t you know screaming racism and being allowed behind the podiums and lecterns where the attentive eyes watch and the open ears listen to her keenly. And now she has the MacArthur money (the dark gods love it!) in her back pocket and she has the horrid verbal style at the ready and she has the Jew backing for all and sundry fantasy revolutions. For when it comes to her and it comes to attacking our way of life and our race’s future the future is wide open. Should anyone choose not to believe it take one look at that resentful mug with the perma-scowl and all doubts will melt away.
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Not only do they want professorial slime on board with the colored revolution but they want the black artists as well; you can only say “structural and analytic accounts of race” so many times before the eyes of even the most dutiful anti-racist will glaze over. And so for a break you have to serve up a canvas where the word White is splashed in nigger menstrual blood so all the high-toned critics can come in and write an important “think piece” in Art News calling it bold and daring and transgressive. And wouldn’t you know it the MacArthur scouts found just the thing in a dirty nigger who descends from unholy practitioners of Caribbean voodoo. She has no talent whatsoever but they never pay such a trifle any mind; she be the esoteric negro and she’s locked and loaded and on board with the Kill The White man philosophy. So give her cash forthwith. Sheeeiiit!
“Maria Magdalena Campos-Pons is a Cuban-born artist who draws on the global legacy of colonialism and slavery and her own family history. In addition to appearing in prestigious international exhibitions such as Documenta 14 and the Sharjah Biennial, she has also had her work acquired by institutions including New York’s Museum of Modern Art; the Smithsonian American Art Museum; the Detroit Institute of Arts; and the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas. Just this week, she was named a 2023 MacArthur Fellow, an honor that comes with a $800,000 grant. The New York Times explains that The Seven Powers Come by the Sea, represents orishas — African spirits that support, replenish, and enhance the survival of Black-descended people. She has Nigerian, Hispanic, and Chinese ancestral roots.”
This so-called artist is a nigger to her core, she’s nigger’s nigger, she’s the nigger who out niggers all niggers, and she got the long memory of what the White man did to her people. She recall (in “deeply poetic and haunting imagery”) the stories of the slave trade, the harrowing events of the middle passages, and the charnel house of blood on those indigo and sugar plantations where the negro was forced for the first time in his life to do an honest day’s labor, the unjust mass incarcerations, the police with the batons, Bull Connor’s water cannons, John Lewis getting whupped upside the head, the Dred Scott decision, the color line, and the high prices at Popeyes. She is steeped in the blood of Santeria religious practices, of witches’ cauldrons and witches’ brews emanating from a place where all the races met and created an unholy stew. She recalls the albino bones and the Big Magic of her people, like that little demented negro boy she augers the end of Whiteness, and she is steeped in the lore of revolutionary black uprisings where living White babies had their little White hands chopped off and wilding feral niggers went tearing through the countryside in search of White people to kill. If that’s not worth a million or so in our Jew run world, what prey tell is?
“The show with Mazie Harris, a curator at the Getty, where the show will bring together a selection of more than 50 works that engage with complex subjects such as motherhood, racial identity, the legacy of slavery, police brutality, and the migrant crisis. A tribute to Breonna Taylor is on loan to the Brooklyn Museum from the Speed Art Museum in Louisville, Kentucky.”
Her go to tableaux is the black figure in the middle of the picture screaming and praying for a rain of blood on our race’s world, marking it with the “hallowed” silence or the banshee wail, doing the dark incantations comprised of mumbo jumbo to wake up her ancestors' bones and wreak revenge on the massa. But just because blood and dead ashes are her ma métier does not mean she can’t comment on the news of the day like a regular nigger. And so in between leaking the milk from her wizened flapjack like paps to de-sacralize Whiteness, she can also make banal reference to the big fat nigger ape Breonna (say her name honky!) Taylor. You know the one, the submental orangutan who never did nuffin' save shack up with a hardened criminal negro and somehow or other end up with a dead body in the trunk of a car she was driving. Now that’s hard-hitting artistry—don’t you know. If it’s the moral equivalent of those blacks in Los Angeles carrying off the television sets chanting this one’s for Rodney don’t pay it any mind at all.
“Campos-Pons’ grandmother was a Santería priestess; her father, an herbalist. Key to many pieces are Santería’s pantheon of Orishas, seven deities said to have traveled to the Americas during the slave trade to safeguard their people. One self-portrait depicts Campos-Pons as Yemaja, the mother of all Orishas, naked from the waist up save for blue body paint of the ocean waves. The artist is posing with two baby bottles of her own breast milk and a hand-carved wooden boat, symbolizing the goddess’s nourishing of her people even as they are forced to leave behind their home.”
“The piece has these elements of the body fragmented again, but effusive, leaking. There’s menstrual blood, there’s shit, there’s tears, there’s breast milk, there’s a little fetus floating there in the center, and then what Magda describes as the most potent output of a woman—which is her words, coming from the mouth. It’s this idea of the artist defining herself, as a body, as a creator of life, but then also specifically as a Black woman. Photographs and a performance in which Campos-Pons, in a white dress, silently held space at her own show’s opening. That work connected so much — the Middle Passage, farm and women’s labor, lineage and memory — under the aegis of the seven major orishas, the spirits who would have come through the trans-Atlantic slave trade fully alive and ready to support, replenish and enhance the survival of Black-descended people.”
They say that this Campos-Pons taps into her spook spirituality and sucks at the teat of nigger cultic practices of the African Diaspora. But “diaspora” is bit too highfalutin of a term for negros who were tossed across the world but retained their same old eternally inferior capacities and only survived thanks to the stupidity of the White man. They say she is the wise negress in the rocking chair on the stoop telling the old tales of her people, the Buffalo soldiers, the great ma migrations, the thumb screws, the auction blocks, the tree, the lynching parties, the hard labor, the redlining, the restrictive covenants, and the noose; but even if she does shit all over the canvas and drop a tear of two on it that most emphatically does not mean it is art. It just means it is shit and crocodile tears. And if she sprays her menstrual blood on white paper the cretins in Manhattan will ooh and ahh over it and fretfully wait the return of the justice of Yemeya and Oshun---but let’s face it it’s nothing more than a disgusting old woman doing disgusting things and pawning it off as high culture and buffaloing the MacArthur foundation into opening up its wallet. If it’s anything more than that I will personally eat her red turban. Sheeeiiit!—as has been said.
