The continent of Africa, however, is not following this pattern. Now home to 1.2 billion (up from just 477 million in 1980), Africa is projected by the United Nations Population Division to see a slight acceleration of annual population growth in the immediate future.
Ed Buck, celebrating diversity, meth and writing checks to the DNC.
In the post, I linked this L.A. Times news clip regarding the death of a young male prostitute at the home of Ed Buck, one of those Podestian DNC sexual fiends who flock to that Party’s liberal nexus in abundance.
Back in 2017, from the Times, details of the death.
Los Angeles County sheriff’s detectives are searching for people who spent time with prominent Democratic donor Ed Buck as they investigate the circumstances surrounding the fatal overdose of a 26-year-old man at his West Hollywood home, two law enforcement officials with knowledge of the case said Tuesday.
Authorities launched a new investigation Monday into Gemmel Moore’s July 27 death “to determine if any criminal culpability exists” after his mother and friends questioned whether the drugs that killed him were self-administered.
County coroner’s officials ruled Moore’s death an accident, and an initial review by sheriff’s deputies found nothing suspicious.
Capt. Chris Bergner of the sheriff’s homicide bureau said detectives also want to review a journal found among Moore’s possessions.
The Times reviewed pages of the journal, in which Moore purportedly wrote about his use of crystal meth and made accusations against Buck.
“I pray that I can just get my life together and make sense. I help so many people but can’t seem to help myself. I honestly don’t know what to do,” one December journal entry reads. “I’ve become addicted to drugs and the worse one at that. … I just hope the end result isn’t death.”
Coroner’s officials said they recovered a notebook, a backpack, a tablet and some other items that belonged to Moore from Buck’s home.
A family friend provided The Times with a video showing him picking up the journal from the coroner’s office.
Moore’s mother, LaTisha Nixon, said her son worked for a time as an escort and used drugs. Shortly before his death, he told her he was homeless.
Coroner’s officials said that Buck was inside the Laurel Avenue home at the time of Moore’s death and that drug paraphernalia was recovered from the scene.
The Times interviewed another man who said he reported his complaints about Buck — similar to those made in the journal — to the Sheriff’s West Hollywood station on the morning of July 4. The man, who asked that he remain anonymous, described himself as a male escort.
Buck is a longtime political donor invested in progressive causes, including LGBT civil rights and animal welfare issues. He also served on the Stonewall Democratic Club Steering Committee. Last week, the group requested Buck’s resignation in the wake of Moore’s death.
Amster said Buck agreed to resign because he did not want to draw negative publicity to the organization.
Little late for that, no?
Ed Buck, yeah. You know the type. Ingratiating leftist faggot who parrots every talking point of the crooked Democratic Party and who adeptly shrouds himself in a cosmetic cloud of virtuosity and social concern and basks in the glow of the Californian Democratic machine cogs who proliferate like piranhas around the “Industry” circles here in Los Angeles. A vile nasty piece of filth who preys on drug addicts and feeds them their weakness in order for him to assume sexual authority.
And once in a while, something goes “wrong.” Ask Gemmel Moore, the young kid who died in Buck’s home in 2017.
Twice in a while, something goes askew.
This Ed Buck character assuredly does not abide by safe words. He’s edgy that way. But a good Democrat.
Another dead man, another adventure for our gay rat, Ed Buck.
For the second time within 18 months, a man was found dead at the West Hollywood home of wealthy Democratic donor Edward Buck, authorities said Monday.
Paramedics responded to Buck’s apartment in the 1200 block of Laurel Avenue shortly after 1 a.m., where they discovered an unresponsive victim, according to the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department.
They tried reviving the man, but he was pronounced dead at the scene, authorities said.
Officials only described the victim as a black man in his 50s. Investigators did not release his name Monday.
His death comes after 26-year-old Gemmel Moore was found dead from an apparent overdose at the same apartment on July 27, 2017.
On Monday, officials confirmed Buck was present during both incidents and said Moore’s case is now facing another review.
“It is suspicious that this has happened twice now,” sheriff’s Lt. Derrick Alfred told KTLA, “so we’re going to conduct a thorough investigation to determine if it is criminal in nature.”
However, Buck was not named as a suspect and has not been arrested. His attorney, Seymour Amster, has denied Buck is responsible for either death.
Amster told reporters Monday that the man found dead had been friends with Buck for 25 years and “had already been partying … and already taken some substances” before he arrived. He said Buck was in the shower for some of the time and had not taken any substances with the victim.
Don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes or the bouncy Hardy boys to see the obvious criminal algorithms, do you?
Dozens of activists rallied outside the apartment Monday evening, calling for the prominent donor’s arrest and prosecution in connection with both deaths.
Political strategist and commentator Jasmyne Cannick said the prominent donor been using his wealth to avoid prosecution.
“He gives money to (L.A. Mayor) Eric Garcetti, he’s given money to (L.A. County District Attorney) Jackie Lacey, he’s given money to (former U.S. Senate candidate and state Sen.) Kevin de Léon, he has given money to Gavin Newsom, our new governor,” she said. “He spreads his money around to get access and influence into these powerful circles.”
Buck also previously donated to Hillary Clinton.
Those who knew him have said the 26-year-old was working as an escort when he visited Buck’s home in July 2017 — an allegation Amster denied.Similar accusations were made following Moore’s death, with outraged loved ones insistent that Buck played a role and should face repercussions.
Moore’s mother, Latisha Nixon, has accused Buck of having young black men like her son ingest dangerous amounts of drugs for his own pleasure. She has said other escorts have confirmed the allegations.
“Ed Buck has been soliciting young gay black men,” Nixon said weeks after her son’s death.
“He has them wear these long white ‘under-johns.’ He takes pictures of them,” she said. “He hits them up with meth. The more meth that they smoke and inject, the more money that he gives them.”
Another man who said he was also a victim of Buck, who asked to remain anonymous, previously told KTLA that Buck would instruct escorts to use high levels of drugs so he could watch their reactions.
“He gets his thrills just based off you getting high,” he said. “He wants to see your reaction. He wants to see how can you take it — if you can handle it or not.”
Yeah, just your typical Democratic aspiring bigwig who uses power and influence to camouflage his venal behavior.
The seating configuration in the train cars that take me to work and home every day abide by the same template: two narrow aisles of paired seats, all facing the front of the car. A couple of sideway seats sit near the back of each car and are reserved for the old and handicapped, but invariably, you’ll find them occupied by someone who is neither hobbled or old. In fact, usually they are quite the opposite.
There is one model of rail car the MTA uses for its light rail routes in which there are 2 pairs of seats at the very front of the car which travel backwards as the train moves forward. What this means is that you have these 4 seats which are facing rows of opposite facing seats. If you’re prone to stage fright or self-consciousness, these seats might be uncomfortable for you. In fact, that describes me exactly and I avoid those seats whenever possible. I don’t relish facing a car full of bored people who are sitting quietly, chuckling, as they cast rash judgments about me.
I’m that paranoid.
My S.O., unlike me, doesn’t appear to suffer from this debilitating form of self-consciousness and gladly nabs those seats when she can.
They do offer the advantage of being slightly “cordoned” off from standing passengers (an annoying byproduct of commuter trains) due to their placement and positioning. Bottom line is, if you can sit in those seats, you don’t have to worry about someone standing in your lap or sticking their annoying ass in your face (literally). Or you won’t be swatted about by that idiot’s monstrous backpack every time he shifts on his feet. Still, the seats suck for socially aversive people like me and the benefits do not outweigh the benefits.
This morning, when the car arrived at the platform, it was already pretty crowded and I was dismayed that the only adjoining seats available were a couple of these “hot seats” that I dread. S.O., unconcerned, headed directly for them. We sat and as I like to do in such a predicament, I sank into my seat and stared zombie-like at the floor, alternating with numbly staring out the window. Anything to avoid looking at people. Most people accomplish this avoidance by fiddling with their smart phone, but since I don’t own a smart phone (by choice), I have to think of other ways to avoid eyes. After a few minutes of this repetitive dance of avoidance, you find a good avoid-people rhythm and the discomfort lessens. Slightly.
A few stops into our commute, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a young Hispanic guy enter and sit in the very first row, meaning he was directly opposite us, facing us. I didn’t look him directly for long but noted he was wearing those jeans I see on a lot of immigrant types, mostly Hispanic, but even adorned by some other global contributions that populate this city. The jeans were strangely distressed in repetitive, rehearsed patterns of parallel folds in the denim, as if the jeans had been folded that way for 10 years and the thread had stretched, worn, over time. They were very ugly, cheesy looking jeans and perhaps they were somewhat fashionable in the old world or maybe 20 years ago (if ever) in the States, but now they were just ugly as shit. Their stylistic accomplishment was in announcing that a hard-core fresh off the boat illegal was nearby.
And it occurred to me that you never really describe Hispanic immigrants as “FOB” unlike Asian immigrants. Asian immigrants, especially as embodied by the “Vietnamese boat people” of the 70’s and 80’s, are truly FOB, literally, and figuratively. Fresh off the boat. One of the great derogatory descriptions of Asians who didn’t quite fit into American culture for much of my youth. If an Asian dressed funny, had a shitty hair cut, had bad breath, the trace of an accent, or strange parents…he was an FOB, regardless of whether his trip to these shores involved any sort of marine vessel.
Nope, I couldn’t call this Hispanic dude with terrible out-of-style distressed-beyond-tastefulness jeans an FOB.
I needed a new acronym for Hispanic immigrants from Latin America, or those type of Hispanics that mimicked the bad fashion styles of illegals, and other tropes of Mexican (and south) culture. And it suddenly struck me!
These people are not FOB. The only water they ever cross is too shallow for a boat. Nope, these people are something else. They sneaked over. They are…FOT!
Fresh Outta the Trunk.
I was amused by my own genius and smirked in that chair while 30 or 50 people watched me as the train glided through Los Angeles.
Netflix’s original programming alternates between passive non-agenda-ized “pure” entertainment on the one hand, and utter Leftist neuro-linguistic hypnosis on the other.
Despite Netflix’s caution in lacing its entire line-up with egregious liberal motifs, even its most neutral, non-politicized shows still contain sporadic leftist easter eggs (as ethereal as a single line of dialogue illustrating the network’s elemental mission to cultivate a generation of streaming-sheep who will gravitate to its one-world, Left agenda).
Netflix relies on apathy and ignorance to spread its dogma. Those of us who approach from a red-pilled perspective merely shake our heads cynically when confronted with such liberal slop (assuming we are troubled to defy our principles and spend the monthly fee to pipe in this Barack/Soros agenda into our homes).
The general Netflix audience, young, socially active, minions of indifference who wouldn’t know the difference between Karl Marx and Groucho Marx, possess few intense political opinions and tend to be apathetically impressionable when it comes to being molded by external sociocultural modes. Their ignorance is a blank slate and cultural manipulators, like Netflix, and the elites who seek to perpetuate the one-world agenda through pop cultural dialogues, which they utterly control, gleefully inject their outlook into the minds of the blank-eyed viewers.
I’ve noticed that Netflix’s programming, while not overtly political to the ignorant masses, still accomplishes mass brainwashing by implanting leftist tropes through the medium of their shows’ themes, dialogues and plots. The network is sly about embedding leftism in its scripts and in fact, their practice borders on a “dog whistling” strategy whereby a social expectation or belief is immersed in a plot and neuro-linguistically seeds the audience’s subconsciousness.
There is a persistence of allegorical themes which permeate much of the original Netflix programs I’ve watched. They are:
-Open borders/no walls/no barriers -Effusive and suicidal virtuousness/generosity -Unrealistic and fantastical levels of diversity -Excessive representation of marginal population groups -Excessive intellectual and emotional adroitness of said marginal groups
…and very common, but not often noted,
-Denunciation and ridicule of restraint, stoicism and tradition
Last night, bored, I watched a current Netflix release, Bird Box, starring one of my least favorite actresses, Sandra Bullock. I shun her movies as much as possible. She selects the worst scripts on such a consistent basis that her fame seems a soul-selling fulfillment of utter intellectual cynicism on her part.
I expected little from Bird Box, and still managed to be underwhelmed. I could not bring myself to stick out the entire length of the movie, but if it was Netflix leftist tropes I was seeking, I was not disappointed in the least.
John Malkovich played a crusty quasi-Trumpian curmudgeon, predictably older than the rest of the glibly hip cast. Grounded, analytical, pragmatic, clear-thinking: a villain given the modern values of SJW parlance. In order to squeeze into today’s facile liberal cliques, one must eschew traditional mores and objectivity. Opinions and extrapolation are now reactive and emotional – qualities that Netflix demands, applauds and romanticizes on screen.
In 2019, buoyant emotions and overwrought pretensions of concern trump cold analysis and objective reality. Solipsism is the guiding force that architects the dogma of today’s female-driven social paradigm, one which Netflix’s (ie, the elite’s) neuro-linguistic programming is designed to hypnotize the younger generation with.
And of course, none of it worth a thing if we don’t all get along.