DISMEMBERING AMERICA HASTA LA VISTA, CALIFORNIA
By: Alan Stang
California is famous for breaking all the rules. The one thing you can be sure of when you settle down to a comfortable routine is that Ė if Hollywood is involved Ė it will be disrupted. We have come to expect certain things in an American election. Democrats are exciting. Democrats offer more and better parties, bigger scandals, more murders, more corpses who commit suicide elsewhere and then install themselves in city parks, more White House officials arrested in menís rooms, more candidates for President who challenge the media to catch them at sex. Letís face it; Democrats are more fun. Sure, under the Democrats we go down the tubes, but we laugh on the way. Republicans are boring and interchangeable. The sexiest thing they do in the Oval Office is tape conversations in which they criticize the Jews. They have no idea what to do with a cigar. They raid Democrat headquarters because they are jealous. Yes, they have parties, but Republicans are too stiff to enjoy them. They donít stage a political rally and call it a wake. They are constantly at war, but even then they are boring. Here is the late General Clyde Wattsís classic analysis of an election a while back in Arkansas: "Fulbright was knocked off by Bumpers. Wilbur Mills was bumped off by knockers."
Now, California typically turns all this hallowed tradition on its ear. Gray Davis, the Democrat, is aptly named. He is Gray to the bone. Gray Davis makes Henry Kissinger look like Jim Carrey. Maybe his parents suspected what he would become. He came to national prominence as a factotum for Gerry Brown, a true Democrat (see my piece in the late American Opinion, entitled Queen of Hearts), but the experience did not rub off.
On the other hand, there is the Arnold, a maverick Republican. Arnold ingested who knows what drugs in training. He canít remember because he was high. Arnold participated in the gang-bang of a black lady in the gym. He canít remember because he was high. Arnoldís writers have made him the author of some of the most electrifying lines in movie literature: "Hasta la vista, baby," and of course the classic, "Iíll be back."
But just as we have finally adapted to this revolution in political styles, here comes the latest Hollywood twist. It turns out that Gray isnít gray at all. Heís Red. By the time you read this, Davis may have already signed the legislation that rewards illegal aliens by allowing them to get drivers licenses. Because the drivers license is the most important means of identification in this country, DMV in California now has the power to make illegal aliens citizens Ė citizens who could vote for Red Davis in the recall, or at least for Democrats next year.
On the other hand, the Arnold is the Terminator. He is Mr. Universe. He is the man who saved the Earth. He is what Henry Kissinger could have become if Henry had a personality and muscles. He has the support of the Bohemian Grove. He has the guidance of former Secretary of State George Shultz, of Bechtel, than whom you canít get any higher. Senator Orrin Hatch has proposed an amendment to the Constitution that would allow foreign-born Arnold to become President.
So, it doesnít really matter who is elected in California. The fix is in. The recall represents a Republican power play by the Bushwhackers. Nothing will change because the Arnold and Gray the Red and Bustamante the Brown all believe the same thing. But, yes, we are having fun yet as the state goes down the tubes.
From the beginning, the Conspiracy for world government has recognized that America is just too big to swallow in one bite. If the Conspiracy tried to do so, it could get indigestion. So, the conspirators have tried a couple of schemes to break the United States into manageable pieces.
In the Nineteen Twenties, Soviet dictator Stalin sent a man named Joseph Pogany to this country. Pogany had been a general in the short-lived Communist regime in Hungary after World War I. In the United States, he was "John Pepper," and he instructed the Communist faithful to work for something he called the "Negro Soviet Republic."
The idea was that the areas of the South where the Negro population was large and sometimes the majority, would secede from the United States and form a separate country. Yes, itís preposterous, but that was the idea. See my book, Itís Very Simple: The True Story of Civil Rights (Boston, Western Island, 1965). The scheme flopped, of course. The Communists worked at it for years, but could not persuade enough Southern Negroes to come aboard.
They kept trying schemes on the Negroes, one proof of which is the odd fact that this is the only race whose name is officially changed every few years, from colored to Negro, to black, to "African-American," etc. Jesse Jackson, who inherited Communist Party official Hunter Pitts OíDell from Martin Luther King, Jr., is in unofficial charge of such nomenclature.
At the time, those of us who exposed the scheme were "crazy," of course, "right-wing extremists," dangerous "paranoids," who suffered "hallucinations." We couldnít get serious coverage. I taped a couple of segments with the Cronkite kooks at the Communist Broadcasting System; needless to say, they were never aired.
In 1967, a Latino gang seized the courthouse in a town named Tierra Amarrilla, in Northern New Mexico, announced that henceforth New Mexico would be an independent nation, not one of the United States, and appealed to the Communist UN for support. The only reason the incident was not banner headlines around the world was that on the same day that yearís version of the continuing war between Islam and Israel erupted.
I went up into the mountains to cover the story Ė as far as I know I was the only reporter, certainly the only national reporter to do so Ė and quickly discovered that this was a Communist Party operation. The gang was using the Communist Partyís mailing list. I had a long session in private with New Mexico Governor David Cargo, who tried to persuade me that nothing was wrong. Sadly, his beautiful esposa turned out to be a member of the gang. I printed Mrs. Cargoís membership card in my American Opinion piece. He saddled up and left the state.
The scheme failed, of course. An example of the utter incompetence of its leaders was my appearance to discuss my findings on the Joe Pyne show in Hollywood. One of the revolutionary leaders stepped into the "beef box" to challenge me and held up a copy of American Opinion. A picture of patriotic Secretary of Defense James V. Forrestal was on the cover.
The revolutionary leader referred with scalding contempt to the picture of "Rosenthal," a Jewish name, hoping to discredit the magazine by establishing some illusory connection between my revelations and the Jews. The idiota actually believed this would be effective in Hollywood, where Joe taped the show.
So now here we are in 2003. I still havenít seen a psychiatrist, but notice that now Iím painfully sane. I have made one of the most remarkable spontaneous remissions in the history of psychiatry. Now, even Joe Shmo from Kokomo knows what is happening. With the help of Red Davis & Company, the scheme that failed miserably in New Mexico in 1967 now is approaching climax in California.
There it is called AztlŠn, which is to be an independent Latino nation, at least at first, and then, maybe, part of Mexico. No es posible, you say? What happens when the illegal aliens legitimized by Red drive legally to the polls to vote? If they vote for Reconquista, would the judge who struck down Proposition 187 strike it down? Impossible (unless orders came from the District of Conspiracy to do so). We would have to acquiesce because that is "democracy."
Four centuries ago, the English settlers on the East Coast overwhelmed the Indians by sheer force of numbers. The same thing is happening in California now, except that treasonous Indian leaders did not hasten the process as Red is doing. At some point, critical mass will arrive. Before the breakup, California will be the new headquarters of the Democrat Party and will vote wall to wall for whatever it wants. The Arnold will long since have said, "Hasta la vista, baby," and moved with Maria to the Kennedy compound in Taxachusetts.
My wife and I escaped from Los Angeles a few years ago. In the streets there, the passersby would be speaking a Babel of languages. Once in a while, on our nightly walks, we would hear an unaccustomed tongue. The Love Priestess would whisper in my ear, "English," as if I had never heard the language.
I was standing on a corner there. A young man pulled up in a pickup truck and asked me in Spanish how to get somewhere. When I replied in Spanish he was not at all surprised. He expected me to reply in that language, even though your Intrepid Correspondent looks as Latin as a bowl of sauerkraut.
In all of this, George "Bring Ďem on!" Bush as usual is as useless as a teat on a boar. But look out, compadre. Iíll be back.
Alan Stang has been a network radio talk show host and was one of Mike Wallace's first writers. He was a senior writer for American Opinion magazine and has lectured around the world for more than 30 years. He is also the author of ten books, including, most recently, Perestroika Sunset, surrounding our Government's deception in the POW/MIA arena. If you would like him to address your group, please email what you have in mind. He is a regular columnist for Ether Zone. He is also a member of the Distinguished Board of Advisors to The Welch Foundation
Alan Stang can be reached at: firstname.lastname@example.org
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