Actually – I Don’t Have A Problem With This
“Indiana’s Chatterbox Jazz Club Threatens Patron with a Bat for Wearing MAGA Hat -Then Kicks Her Out“
Though the threat of physical harm was uncalled for.
Time to rock the boat and let my extreme right-wingness out of its box for a bit – I’m all in favor of a bit of judicious segregation.
Let me know you don’t want me “there” and I won’t go. Just don’t be surprised or “offended” if I return the favor.
I believe the owner of a private business* has every right to “We reserve the right to refuse service“; to serve the customers desired and not serve those not desired. Put up a sign at the door: “Abandon all hope, ye honkies who enter here“. I’ve known places like that, even without the sign.
If a bar owner wants to allow customers to smoke, those that don’t smoke do not have to enter. It’s certainly not the government’s business … and if the bar owner goes out of business because of such a policy, so be it, it’s his concern. And “protestors” do not have the right to argue or block said business.
If I offer custom services, I get to pick and choose those I will work for. “No, I won’t bake your cake. Find someone else or do it yourself.”
If a store wishes to serve only the latest collection of letters and not straight white men, so be it. If a straight white man chooses to not serve those of that latest alphabet soup, so be it.
(There’s a restaurant in town here that makes a point of telling all that it’s “LGBTQ+ friendly”. I don’t go there. Not that I care who or what you sleep with but a place that feels the need to advertise such would probably get me involved in some sort of politics …
… and I’m just looking for a good meal.
They’re probably Democrats. Would they spit in my food knowing I’m not LGBTQ?
If someone doesn’t want blacks or arabs or whites or gays as customers? … there are plenty of businesses that prefer to not serve straight white Americans. That’s OK … just don’t be upset if straight white men don’t want you as a customer.
If store wishes to not serve gays, gays stay out … as the same gays should be able to keep straights out of their places of business. Actually, I’ve found gays – the screaming queen types – to be more one-sided segregationist than any other group. Those I’ve known (I worked theatre for several years) want every “right” to do as they please, to go where they wish … but want to keep straights away from their “special” places (not that I ever understood why a true “straight” would want to go to such places).
(Though there is a tale of me and a girlfriend looking for a room on Castro St in SF over 40 years ago.
We were meeting a gay friend who happened to be the editor of a national magazine in NYC.
He got pissed at that hotel over their treatment of us.
We ended up at the Sir Francis Drake instead … It was a different world back then.)
People love the 1st Amendment because of “freedom of speech” (or hate it for the same reason). A less known phrase is “the right of the people peaceably to assemble” which may also be stated as freedom of non-assembly. Nothing is gained by forcing “togetherness”. Gee – I have relatives I’d just as soon not “assemble” with.
Much might be gained by allowing voluntary separation … aka, segregation. Screw “civil rights”; LBJ messed up this country more with his Great Society than he did with Kennedy’s assassination or Vietnam. How can anyone claim “affirmative action” is not as >ra-a-ay-cist< as any Jim Crow law???
When all these “special” groups argue for “rights”, they’re not seeking equal treatment, they’re arguing for “we’re special” rights (rights being contrary to freedoms). Left-handed, 3-legged dwarfs don’t want equal treatment – they want special consideration because they’re victims of being left-handed 3-legged dwarfs and want the rest of us to be required to bow down to their victimhood.
Bah, humbug …
*A business which chooses to become “public” – that is, raising money on the open market; selling stock on a public exchange for example, should not have that right.
When they made it mandatory for public officials to follow the narrative, the bombardment of societal acceptance started. Of course, those that didn’t agree could have quit their position, but lucrative government jobs pay more than integrity.
Hear, hear!
I have always thought the same way as you’ve described.
I heard about this incident today on talk radio – a place about 45 miles north of me. They said the whole thing was staged, and filmed, by the maga folks.
Father O’Brian was walking into town one morning when he spied Mrs. O’Grady, a woman that he had married to Mr. O’Grady a year ago. And being the kindly priest that he is, he stops and has a bit of a chat with her.
“Mrs. O’Grady, how are you on this fine morning?”
“Oh, I’m quite fine, Father.”
“Ah, good, good. And how is Mr. O’Grady doing?”
“He’s doing fine, father. Off working this morning.”
“Wonderful, wonderful! And do you have any children yet?”
“Nay, father, we’ve been trying, but we have no children just yet.”
Father O’Brian makes a worried noise, and says “Well, I’m off to Rome soon for studying soon, and so I shall light a candle for you and Mr. O’Grady in Saint Peter’s.”
Mrs. O’Grady smiles and says “That would be lovely, father.” And then they part ways. Father O’Brian goes to Rome to study, and returns back to his little town in Ireland after three years. As he’s walking up to the church, he spies a tired looking Mrs. O’Grady and runs up to have a chat.
“Mrs. O’Grady! Saints be praised, it’s wonderful to see you! How are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m fine father, just a wee bit tired these days.”
“Tired, are you? And why is that? Do you have any children?”
“Aye, father. We’ve seven little ones. Two sets of twins and one set of triplets.”
This rocks father O’Brian back on his heels a bit. “Why…. that’s wonderful! Praise God for his good works! And where’s Mr. O’Grady in all of this?”
“Oh, he’s gone to Rome father, so he can blow out that fookin’ candle.”
https://www.libertystorch.info/2025/03/17/tis-the-high-and-holy-feast-day-of-st-patrick/
Getting sued into oblivion for refusing to bake the gay wedding cake? The underlying vulnerability of getting destroyed is the business license, coupled with an aggressive DA who will crucify you for your sins. The business license. You sought and paid permission to the government to exist and now you are its tool. I’ve been creating handmade signs since I was 16 and I don’t have a business license. Just turned 69. I’ve never had a shop on a busy street corner and have always operated under my own roof. I go to my customers, they don’t go to me. I can’t think of an activity that isn’t gummint regulated. Massage therapy, ditch digging, dental hygiene, elder care, the license is impossible to avoid. Maybe if you’re a shade tree mechanic and you work on cars at you own place you can fly solo under the radar. Of course, you have to work for yourself, you can’t have a boss. When you pay permission to exist it will come with a regulation library describing handicap parking, potential 24 hour OSHA visits and every microscopic requirement you paid attorneys to discover and hang you with.
I think it’s now 3 businesses I tried to set up “properly” – two from legal necessity due to the nature of the clients. Never again. Same goes for patents – that’s a lawyer’s game; not for “inventors”. Too much regulation everywhere one turns. “A Bureaucrat: Someone afraid someone, somewhere is doing something without permission.”
Back when I was working, I lucked into a trip that stopped at a place you’ve probably never heard of…Palau. Palau is tiny….they have a population of about 18,000. It is basically an off-the-beaten-path destination for Japanese honeymooners, scuba nuts, and if I remember right, they export some fish (and maybe flowers). Imagine finding yourself on Hawaii in maybe 1910 or 1920 and you’ll have a good idea of what Palau is.
Skipping a bunch of details here…our trip kept us there for 3 days.The first day, my copilot went scuba diving, the second day we all sent snorkeling, and the last day we rented a car and explored the island.
And on that drive, up on the northern end of the island, we ran into the Capitol of Palau, which as you can see, is roughly a 1/3 scale duplicate of the US Capitol. There’s more on the Capitol here.
Anyway, so there we were, in the parking lot of the Capitol of Palau, just looking at the place, and this landscaper-guy came up to us and asked us if we’d like to go inside. So we did.
There’s really not much to it…not suprising for such a tiny island….but the conversation with this landscaper was fascinating. He had been widely traveled. He had lived for a while in Hawaii, and then had another stint in Virginia, where he had a sister.
And once he had landed on the shores of the Land of the Big Box Store, he found that he hated it. He said (words to the effect) that in America, everything you do requires permission from someone else. Want to build a house or add a room onto your existing house? You better have a building permit. Want to set up shop as a barber? You need training and then have to get a license. Want to go fishing? That requires another license.
And so he came back to his home. A place where his simple life allowed him far more liberty than what we believe to have in the home of Liberty (we even have a Statue).
That statue ain’t for us, the productive.
But rather the wretched refuse of other countries.
The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
?maxwidth=1300&maxheight=1300&autorotate=falseThe 1903 bronze plaque located in the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty. An exact replica of this plaque is now located in the Statue of Liberty Museum.
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Emma Lazarus
November 2, 1883
Here’s the deal… We The People don’t own anything. This was very carefully planned and our own nation was stolen out from under us in the greatest theft of all time. In a bankruptcy you’re declared penniless and you don’t regain solvent status until you pay back the debt. There used to be a word that appeared in dictionaries long ago but is difficult to find anymore. This is from the original Webster’s 1828: Allodium is what the Revolutionary War fought to attain.
“ALLODIUM: Freehold estate; land which is the absolute property of the owner; real estate held in absolute independence, without being subject to any rent, service, or acknowledgement to a superior. It is thus opposed to feudal. In England, there is no allodial land, all land being held of the King; but in the United States most lands are allodial.”
All of that changed on March 9, 1933 when President Franklin Roosevelt declared the United States, Inc. bankrupt by and through executive order nos. 6073, 6102, 6111, and 6260. USC 28 Section 3002 Definitions: (15) “United States” means (A) a Federal Corporation. If you are a US citizen your nation is a bankrupt corporation called Washington D.C. and you live in a corporate federal zone called AZ, or TX, or NY. Your world exists only on paper and it’s bankrupt. On April 26, 1933 came Senate Resolution no. 62 which reads in part: “The ultimate ownership of all property is in the State; individual “ownership” is only by virtue of Government, i.e., law, amounting to mere user; and use must be in accordance with law and subordinate to the necessities of the State.” Actually, the Federal Reserve owns everything. The Fed holds the bankrupt United States in receivership. The Fed recruited the tattered remnants of our government to enforce the terms of the bankruptcy. Every way to earn a living has been licensed. Every place you park requires coins in the meter. You handed over the Title of Origin, the real title to your car, and now the State has ownership of the vehicle and you participate in the paid-for privilege of “driving” which is the transportation of goods or paying passengers for a living. You’re loving that paycheck, aren’t you?
We are only paying to use stuff we don’t own. That’s why your car gets towed away and held in ransom because of some administrative infraction of policy. You didn’t harm anyone… your license expired and now you’re walking home. Because the Federal Reserve creates money that doesn’t discharge a debt, but actually compounds it with interest, these are debt notes, this is slavery perfected and all of us are down on the plantation picking cotton. We can’t pay back the debt. I fly as low under the radar as I possibly can. I am not a US citizen. I’m the other status, there’s TWO citizenships!, and I’m that very boring phrase called a non-citizen national. If it was called “sovereign” then people would become curious and learn something.
Very good.
There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of ways to use this rotten assed gov’ts rules for your own personal betterment. That starts with the idea that the gov’t is a criminal enterprise and you are an outlaw. If it catches you it will cage or kill you. And, not only is the gov’t criminal it is lazy and very inefficient. Though the electric fence is hot, the pasture is huge. STAY AWAY FROM THE FENCE!
For example, everyone has heard the media stories about how billionaires pay less in income taxes than a waitress. That may very well be true and completely legal, because what I said above. Lazy and inefficient. The gov’t tax laws provide huge pastures where smart people can use the rules to their own benefit.
There’s a whole nuther world out there that most people do not know exists and you can’t really go somewhere and learn about it because just talking about it gets you ever closer to that electric fence. STAY AWAY FROM THE FENCE!
I DO talk about it, but very seldom and only to the few who already understand. You can’t tell an ignorant slave anything. If I was talking this stuff through a bullhorn on a street corner I’d get shot.
“If I was talking this stuff through a bullhorn on a street corner I’d get shot.”
As can now be seen by those that loved EVs and now firebomb them because The Narrative. I wouldn’t dare go to Portland and walk around; I’d be safer in Detroit. (of course, Detroit is my city of birth)
I’d hate to see what these people would be like if they weren’t “people of tolerance”.
They’re all chicken shits, every last one of them.
Yeah, they can deliver but can they take?
No. Chickenshits can’t take because they have bird brains.
At the first instance of retaliatory over the top violence they will all run for their very lives.