The Chinese gangsters who fronted him the money to get here use a ball-peen hammer on his ribs when he sends some bucks back to his family in China and gets behind on payments at 30% interest. So he delivers Chinese food all over trying to bicycle into enough tip money to keep them from coming back tonight.
Then he gets himself mugged out of it by some black guys in an elevator. Late in the day. He’s looking at a bad evening and he doesn’t even have to worry about multi-national banks, US Immigration Service, whatever. All he’s got to worry about is which gangsters will rob him next.
But if he lives he dreams of bringing over his wife and son he’s never seen once his debt to the loan sharks is paid off in four, five years.
Different enough and interesting enough to cause me to give it a five star rating.
Sheeze readers, can you believe this? Hundreds, maybe thousands of kids at loose-ends coming across our border. Nobody for us to answer to, no matter what we do to them. And whatever it is beats starving to death in some pesthole where they don’t even speak English.
Heck, we could send them to butler and house-keeper schools so’s when they grow up they’d have rent-free jobs they can’t quit in the homes of rich people. Make slaves of them. Hell nobody would notice or care. Auction them off to Oriental pedophiles to pay the National Debt.
These kids are the future and we’re squandering it, haggling over how long it should take to send them back. Sending them back is crazy. Nobody has ever been more helpless than them. We can do anything to them that makes us feel good. Put them to work doing phone sales, teach them martial arts and how to shoot and give them to important people for a lifetime of free bodyguarding.
Hang signs over their shoulders advertising pizza joints or wearing statue of liberty suits waving people into tax joints. Free. Everyone could have one to wash the laundry, cook and do the dishes. Curl up under the kitchen table when the work was all done.
Mostly these days a lot of people can afford to hire someone for menial tasks, but they still have to get up to get beers or change the batteries on the TV remotes. Still have to carry out the trash. Life still sucks for them.
And as always, God heard their pleas. Sent all those starving, displaced kids up from Godawful places south of Mexico.
God has always taken a favorable view to slavery. Time was He demanded His Chosen People of the time make slaves of all the neighbors they couldn’t kill. And now we are his Chosen People. He’s offering a free gift of thousands of slaves for us to do anything with we want to. And they can’t do anything back.
Hell, they’d probably thank us.
Send them back? What the hell is wrong with those people in Washington? Right now they’re having to PAY illegal aliens to mow the grass. If they relax they can have one for a slave and use him/her for a sex toy when all the work’s done.
And they’re helpless to keep it from happening. Perfecto! If we’re going to be God’s Chosen People we’re going to have to start acting the way God’s Chosen People acted when they were still getting their instructions. And the way the ones who think they are, but aren’t anymore, are still behaving, though they’ve toned it down some.
But they don’t have any starving, helpless kids flooding across the border begging to be exploited seven ways from Sunday upside down and backward. God’s pretty much cut them off for the last couple of thousand years.
In case you missed how we became God’s Chosen People and posts in that vein:
Hi readers. I’d never thought about it until I watched Baran on Netflix. How similar Iranians are to Americans. In this Turkish movie while building a site in Tehran, Turkish worker Lateef is drawn to young Afghan worker Rahmat, who is dangerously in disguise. A female illegal alien, refugee from Afghanistan.
And those Iranians don’t put up with anyone giving jobs to those wetback Afghans any more than Arizonians who aren’t needing yard work done don’t condone anyone hiring Mexican illegal aliens.
What’s surprising is the number of ways Mexicans and Afghans are similar outside the mere shared illegal alien status. Both are bad about shooting things up in their own countries, they’re both rather dark skinned, and they both speak languages the average US citizen can’t understand. Then there’s the matter of cutlery.
But the amazing corollary is the many ways other than their views about illegal aliens Americans are similar to Iranians. Each has a ‘special’ relationship with Israel and the Israelis, for instance. Each is preoccupied with nuclear weapons. Each sits atop one hell of a lot of oil. And each tends to go overboard over religion and religious matters sufficiently to get religion and government confused.
See it on Netflix: Baran, 2001 PG 95 minutes, starring:Hossein Abedini, Zahra Bahrami. Director:Majid Majidi
Someone sent me an email forward the other day explaining to me how illegal aliens, welfare recipients, other low-lifes and me, retired and living off Social Security, is what’s causing this great country to go down the tube. I swan.
I don’t have a TV, don’t listen to radio, don’t read newspapers or magazines, but I do get email forwards and see sidebar news flashes at Internet sites. So knowing the country is down the tube didn’t come as a complete shock to me. Every couple of weeks I go to town for groceries, chicken feed and other necessaries, and the fact gasoline prices are a mite high, bread, milk and produce are worth more than they used to be, and people are older, all had me wondering if things hadn’t slipped downhill.
But knowing all those old people in the grocery lines and I are causing it surely gave me pause.
Made me realize life is harder for people with ball-caps turned sideways, studs in their nostrils, belly buttons and lips, tattoo-tears running down off their faces, and attitude have it tougher than I did all those years I was younger than I am now, because I wasn’t up here then.
I mostly try to mind my own business and tend my own affairs. I don’t want to be a part of a problem someone else has. If people living down in the trailer parks sitting in the backs of their pickups drinking beer Saturday afternoons are suffering harder than they would if I was out living under a bridge somewhere dumpster-diving for a living I wouldn’t be half the man I think I am if I didn’t consider it a viable alternative.
I paid money every paycheck for about 50 years into Social Security, but I never figured I’d come to depend on it for a living. When it happened I never stopped to consider that expecting some of it back was different from people living off their military retirement, Federal Employment Retirement, or Congressional Retirement systems.
If I need to go dumpster-diving and live under a bridge to clear my conscience I figure I can do it. Lots of people are already doing it. Just looking at them I hadn’t thought about the moral high ground they’re holding.
74 years old, a resident of Leavenworth, KS, in an apartment located on the VA campus. Partnered with a black shorthaired cat named Mister Midnight. (1943-2020)
Since April, 2020, this blog is maintained by Jeanne Kasten (See "About" page for further information).
I’m sharing it with you because there’s almost no likelihood you’ll believe it. This lunatic asylum I call my life has so many unexpected twists and turns I won’t even try to guess where it’s going. I’d suggest you try to find some laughs here. You won’t find wisdom. Good luck.