The Clansman, an Excerpt From a Racist Mind

The Clansman: A Historical Romance of the Ku Klux Klan is a novel published in 1905. It was the second work in the Ku Klux Klan trilogy by Thomas F. Dixon, Jr. that included The Leopard’s Spots and The Traitor. It was influential in providing the ideology that helped support the revival of the Ku Klux Klan (KKK or The Klan). The novel was twice notably adapted, immediately by its author as a play entitled The Clansman (1905), and a decade later by D. W. Griffith in the groundbreaking 1915 silent movie The Birth of a Nation.[1]

The Clansman, an Historical Romance of the Ku Klux Klan: 

Electronic Edition.

Thomas Dixon, Jr., 1864-1946

Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller (Arthur Ignatius), 1866-1924

Text encoded by Natalia Smith and Jamie Vacca
First edition, 1997.
ca. 700K
Academic Affairs Library, UNC-CH
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill,

        This work is the property of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. It may be used freely by individuals for research, teaching and personal use as long as this statement of availability is included in the text.

Call number PS3507.I93 C5 1905 (Davis Library, UNC-CH)


        “THE CLANSMAN” is the second book of a series of historical novels planned on the Race Conflict. “The Leopard’s Spots” was the statement in historical outline of the conditions from the enfranchisement of the Negro to his disfranchisement.

        “The Clansman” develops the true story of the “Ku Klux Klan Conspiracy,” which overturned the Reconstruction régime.

        The organisation was governed by the Grand Wizard Commander-in-Chief, who lived at Memphis, Tennessee. The Grand Dragon commanded a State, the Grand Titan a Congressional District, the Grand Giant a County, and the Grand Cyclops a Township Den. The twelve volumes of Government reports on the famous Klan refer chiefly to events which occurred after 1870, the date of its dissolution.

        The chaos of blind passion that followed Lincoln’s assassination is inconceivable to-day. The Revolution it produced in our Government, and the bold attempt of Thaddeus Stevens to Africanise ten great states of the American Union, read now like tales from “The Arabian Nights.”

        I have sought to preserve in this romance both the letter and the spirit of this remarkable period. The men who enact the drama of fierce revenge into which I have woven a double love-story are historical figures. I have merely changed their names without taking a liberty with any essential historic fact.

        In the darkest hour of the life of the South, when her wounded people lay helpless amid rags and ashes under the beak and talon of the Vulture, suddenly from the mists of the mountains appeared a white cloud the size of a man’s hand. It grew until its mantle of mystery enfolded the stricken earth and sky. An “Invisible Empire” had risen from the field of Death and challenged the Visible to mortal combat.

        How the young South, led by the reincarnated souls of the Clansmen of Old Scotland, went forth under this cover and against overwhelming odds, daring exile, imprisonment, and a felon’s death, and saved the life of a people, forms one of the most dramatic chapters in the history of the Aryan race.


Page 44

“We fought no war of conquest,” quietly urged the President, “but one of self-preservation as an indissoluble Union. No state ever got out of it, by the grace of God and the power of our arms. Now that we have won, and established for all time its unity, shall we stultify ourselves by declaring we were wrong? These states must be immediately restored to their lights, or we shall betray the blood we have shed. There are no ‘conquered provinces’ for us to spoil. A nation cannot make conquest of its own territory.”

        “But we are acting outside the Constitution,” interrupted Stoneman.

        “Congress has no existence outside the Constitution,” was the quick answer.

        The old Commoner scowled, and his beetling brows hid for a moment his eyes. His keen intellect was catching its first glimpse of the intellectual grandeur of the man with whom he was grappling. The facility with which he could see all sides of a question, and the vivid imagination which lit his mental processes, were a revelation. We always underestimate the men we despise.

        “Why not out with it?” cried Stoneman, suddenly changing his tack. “You are determined to oppose Negro suffrage?”

        “I have suggested to Governor Hahn of Louisiana to consider the policy of admitting the more intelligent and those who served in the war. It is only a suggestion. The state alone has the power to confer the ballot.”

        “But the truth is this little ‘suggestion’ of yours is only a bone thrown to radical dogs to satisfy our howlings for

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the moment! In your soul of souls, you don’t believe in the equality of man if the man under comparison be a negro?”

        “I believe that there is a physical difference between the white and black races which will forever forbid their living together on terms of political and social equality. If such be attempted, one must go to the wall.”

        “Very well, pin the Southern white man to the wall. Our party and the Nation will then be safe.”

        “That is to say, destroy African slavery and establish white slavery under Negro masters! That would be progress with a vengeance.”

        A grim smile twitched the old man’s lips as he said:

        “Yes, your prim conservative snobs and male waiting- maids in Congress went into hysterics when I armed the negroes. Yet the heavens have not fallen.”

        “True. Yet no more insane blunder could now be made than any further attempt to use these Negro troops. There can be no such thing as restoring this Union to its basis of fraternal peace with armed negroes, wearing the uniform of this Nation, tramping over the South, and rousing the basest passions of the freedmen and their former masters. General Butler, their old commander, is now making plans for their removal, at my request. He expects to dig the Panama Canal with these black troops.

        “Fine scheme that—on a par with your messages to Congress asking for the colonisation of the whole Negro race!”

        “It will come to that ultimately,” said the President,

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firmly. “The Negro has cost us $5,000,000,000, the desolation of ten great states, and rivers of blood. We can well afford a few million dollars more to effect a permanent settlement of the issue. This is the only policy on which Seward and I have differed—”

        “Then Seward was not an utterly hopeless fool. I’m glad to hear something to his credit,” growled the old Commoner.

        “I have urged the colonisation of the negroes, and I shall continue until it is accomplished. My emancipation proclamation was linked with this plan. Thousands of them have lived in the North for a hundred years, yet not one is the pastor of a white church, a judge, a governor, a mayor, or a college president. There is no room for two distinct races of white men in America, much less for two distinct races of whites and blacks. We can have no inferior servile class, peon or peasant. We must assimilate or expel. The American is a citizen king or nothing. I can conceive of no greater calamity than the assimilation of the Negro into our social and political life as our equal. A mulatto citizenship would be too dear a price to pay even for emancipation.”

        “Words have no power to express my loathing for such twaddle!” cried Stoneman, snapping his great jaws together and pursing his lips with contempt.

        “If the Negro were not here would we allow him to land?” the President went on, as if talking to himself. “The duty to exclude carries the right to expel. Within twenty years, we can peacefully colonise the Negro in the tropics, and give him our language, literature,

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religion, and system of government under conditions in which he can rise to the full measure of manhood. This he can never do here. It was the fear of the black tragedy behind emancipation that led the South into the insanity of secession. We can never attain the ideal Union our fathers dreamed, with millions of an alien, inferior race among us, whose assimilation is neither possible nor desirable. The Nation cannot now exist half white and half black, any more than it could exist half slave and half free.”

        “Yet ‘God hath made of one blood all races,’ ” quoted the cynic with a sneer.

        “Yes—but finish the sentence—’and fixed the bounds of their habitation.’ God never meant that the Negro should leave his habitat or the white man invade his home. Our violation of this law is written in two centuries of shame and blood. And the tragedy will not be closed until the black man is restored to his home.”

        “I marvel that the minions of slavery elected Jeff. Davis their chief with so much better material at hand!”

        “His election was a tragic and superfluous blunder. I am the President of the United States, North and South,” was the firm reply.

        “Particularly the South!” hissed Stoneman. “During all this hideous war, they have been your pets—these rebel savages who have been murdering our sons. You have been the ever-ready champion of traitors. And you now dare to bend this high office to their defence—”

        “My God, Stoneman, are you a man or a savage!” cried the President. “Is not the North equally responsible

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for slavery? Has not the South lost all? Have not the Southern people paid the full penalty of all the

crimes of war? Are our skirts free? Was Sherman’s march a picnic? This war has been a giant conflict of principles to decide whether we are a bundle of petty sovereignties held by a rope of sand or a mighty nation of freemen. But for the loyalty of four border Southern states—but for Farragut and Thomas and their two hundred thousand heroic Southern brethren who fought for the Union against their own flesh and blood, we should have lost. You cannot indict a people—”

        “I do indict them!” muttered the old man.

        “Surely,” went on the even, throbbing voice, “surely, the vastness of this war, its titanic battles, its heroism, its sublime earnestness, should sink into oblivion all low schemes of vengeance! Before the sheer grandeur of its history, our children will walk with silent lips and uncovered heads.”

        “And forget the prison-pen at Andersonville!”

        “Yes. We refused, as a policy of war, to exchange those prisoners, blockaded their ports, made medicine contrabrand, and brought the Southern Army itself to starvation. The prison records, when made at last for history, will show as many deaths on our side as on theirs.”

        “The murderer on the gallows always wins more sympathy than his forgotten victim,” interrupted the cynic.

        “The sin of vengeance is an easy one under the subtle plea of justice,” said the sorrowful voice. “Have we not had enough of bloodshed? Is not God’s vengeance enough? When Sherman’s army swept to the sea, before

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him lay the Garden of Eden, behind him stretched a desert! A hundred years cannot give back to the wasted South her wealth, or two hundred years restore to her the lost seed treasures of her young manhood—”

         “The imbecility of a policy of mercy in this crisis can only mean the reign of treason and violence,” persisted the old man, ignoring the President’s words.

        “I leave my policy before the judgment bar of time, content with its verdict. In my place, radicalism would have driven the border states into the Confederacy, every Southern man back to his kinsmen, and divided the North itself into civil conflict. I have sought to guide and control public opinion into the ways on which depended our life. This rational flexibility of policy you and your fellow radicals have been pleased to call my vacillating imbecility.”

        “And what is your message for the South?”

        “Simply this: ‘Abolish slavery, come back home, and behave yourself.’ Lee surrendered to our offers of peace and amnesty. In my last message to Congress, I told the Southern people they could have peace at any moment by simply laying down their arms and submitting to National authority. Now that they have taken me at my word, shall I betray them by an ignoble revenge? Vengeance cannot heal and purify; it can only brutalise and destroy.”

        Stoneman shuffled to his feet with impatience.

        “I see it is useless to argue with you. I’ll not waste my breath. I give you an ultimatum. The South is conquered soil. I mean to blot it from the map. Rather

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than admit one traitor to the halls of Congress from these so-called states, I will shatter the Union itself into ten thousand fragments! I will not sit beside men whose clothes smell of the blood of my kindred. At least dry them before they come in. Four years ago, with yells and curses, these traitors left the halls of Congress to join the armies of Cataline. Shall they return to rule?”

        “I repeat,” said the President, “you cannot indict a people. Treason is an easy word to speak. A traitor is one who fights and loses. Washington was a traitor to George III. Treason won, and Washington is immortal. Treason is a word that victors hurl at those who fail.”

        “Listen to me,” Stoneman interrupted with vehemence. “The life of our party demands that the Negro be given the ballot and made the ruler of the South. This can be done only by the extermination of its landed aristocracy, that their mothers shall not breed another race of traitors. This is not vengeance. It is justice, it is patriotism, it is the highest wisdom and humanity. Nature, at times, blots out whole communities and races that obstruct progress. Such is the political genius of these people that, unless you make the Negro the ruler, the South will yet reconquer the North and undo the work of this war.”

        “If the South in poverty and ruin can do this, we deserve to be ruled! The North is rich and powerful—the South, a land of wreck and tomb. I greet with wonder, shame, and scorn such ignoble fear! The Nation cannot be healed until the South is healed. 

Racist Cartoonist A Wyatt Mann

Will the real White Man stand up?

A Wyatt Mann is the pseudonym of Nick Bougas, an underground filmmaker and death-enthusiast who was besties with the likes of Anton LaVey, totally dug Charles Manson (probably still does), and according to many sources, has a devoted gal pal with the unlikely name of Sandra Weinberg – could it truly be that a guy who once devoted himself to extremely anti Semitic and ultra racist cartoons lives in Georgia (one of the Southern bastions of White Crackerdom) with a Jewish woman? Does this mean that A Wyatt Mann has changed his nigger-hating, kike-detesting, gay-loathing, feminist- bashing, Asian-despising, and Latino-abhorring ways?

Trolls pretty much ruined the reputation of political cartoonist Ben Garrison, who for some reason became the victim of an online smear campaign the likes of which I have never read nor heard of until this morning. Many of Garrison’s cartoons have been edited (without removing his signature nor the copyright year) into racist images, and this has hurt the artist professionally as well as financially. In the laws of the Internet, there’s little he can do about it other than fight to clear his name in his own way because he can’t actually sue the bastards – most of whom post the images under ‘anonymous’ – that are trolling his artwork. (Let this be a warning to us all!)

Bougas created a series of mondo films called Death Scenes – I saw one many years ago, considered it a piece of shit, we rented it from Action Video as a matter of fact – and directed a piece of drivel about (get this) a disabled, tap dancing hermaphrodite named Johnnie Baima called ‘The Goddess Bunny’. All along, Bougas was producing his anti Semitic and racist cartoons under A Wyatt Mann. From his appearance – in many photos he’s got dyed blond hair, and I’ve never thought much of people who bleach their hair, it’s trashy as hell – he looks like the type of guy Adolf Hitler would have thrown in the ‘sub human’ racial category and Bougas sounds like a Greek surname; Greeks have not even been considered the same as the British, Germans, Scandinavians, and Swiss. They actually have been thought of as ‘undesirable’ where race is concerned, not truly ‘White’, same as Italians and the Spanish, Portuguese, and Romanians.

At any rate, these cartoons are offensive but I have included some with today’s post so that you can get a better understanding of the repellent nature of the art, if one can term this diarrhea such.

Martin Luther King Jr

Martin Luther King Jr was born Michael King Jr on 15 January 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. A Baptist minister, he became involved in the Civil Rights Movement as an activist from the early days, leading the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955 and was a founder of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (1957), serving as its first president. He also organized the March on Washington in 1963 where he gave his famous “I Have a Dream” speech, led an unsuccessful bid to end segregation in Albany, Georgia in ’62, and was part of a series of peaceful protests in Birmingham, Alabama in ’63.

The homosexual and quite bigoted director of the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover, had a special hatred for King and was always seeking out a conspiracy between the Civil Rights leader and Communism. He even managed to talk John F. Kennedy and Robert Kennedy into allowing him to scrutinize Martin Luther King Jr for proof of the alleged ties. Apparently, a lawyer by the name of Stanley Levison, who had been a member of the Communist Party in America, was an associate of King’s, and the Kennedys both tried to get Martin Luther King Jr to break ties with Levison, though they were not successful. Hoover declared that King was ‘the most notorious liar in the country’ and the FBI pegged him ‘ the most dangerous and effective Negro leader in the country’. Whether or not this is because King was finally getting Blacks to stand up for their rights, was ‘in bed’ with the Commies, or because he was a womanizer (a personality quirk that his wife, Coretta, had accepted about him), cannot be said. How a man who was nothing but a pervert could speak out against anyone else’s morals in beyond me but when it comes to questions of White morality and Black morality, the White man comes out on top.

Inspired a great deal by Gandhi (who unfortunately, and perhaps unbeknownst to Martin Luther King Jr, was a racist), King was a firm believer in nonviolence – something many Blacks should take heed of today – and also in the notion that love triumphs over hate. On 14 October 1964, Martin Luther King Jr became the recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize for his work in battling racial inequality, and in 1965 he was part of the organized Selma to Montgomery marches to combat segregation in Alabama. He also worked to end segregated housing in Chicago, opposed the Vietnam War – much to the chagrin of his liberal followers – and was actively engaged in a Poor People’s Campaign when his life was ended by the bullet of a White racist named James Earl Ray on 4 April 1968 in Memphis.

Here is an excerpt from the “I Have a Dream” speech, in which King strayed from the written text (at the urging of Mahalia Jackson, according to a couple of sources) and delivered one of the most powerful oratories in history:

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.’

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

Racism in Russia

Under Soviet rule, racist incidents in Russia – or the Soviet Union as it was then called, along with the bloc of countries that made up the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics – were rare. Because of the internationalist attitude of Communism, race was not really an issue in the USSR as it was in the US. Welcome to the Twenty First Century! There are probably close to 100.000 skinheads roaming the streets of Russia these days, though why they would want to become Nazis boggles the mind, as Hitler and the German Nazis definitely did not consider the Russians to be the same as Aryans – they were referred to as ‘sub-human’ and routinely killed off just the same as the hated Jews and Gypsies.

Since the fall of Communism, racism has become ‘out of control’ in Russia. Racist slurs & attacks, hate crimes, skinhead groups, and anti-Semitism has been on the rise since Soviet rule ceased to exist in these countries. Russians regularly call the people of the Caucasus ‘Black’ and ‘Black asses’ and even ‘niggers’ – this is not because the Caucasian people are actually Negro, it is due to the non-Nordic coloring of many (dark eyes, dark hair, and olive complexions). I thought the Caucasus is where Caucasians originated and here you have people calling them ‘niggers’!


Chechens are often referred to as ‘Black’ and every little racial slur you can think of that fits Blacks here in America as well. When you Google Chechen and click images, you will see photo after photo of a people that can only be classified as White. In fact, Chechens are Caucasian people – so why do the Russians of Moscow and other cities call them ‘Black’ even when many have red hair, blue eyes, and fair skin?

If the Russians are truly behind the election of Donald Trump, I would not be surprised for their hatred of President Obama has been as intense as that of any redneck American. Obama has been depicted as a monkey – same as here in the US – holding or eating a banana (usually by Tatars) in countless posters and toys that have been marketed in Russia since 2015, despite the election of Benin-born Russian politician and real estate mogul Jean Sagbo, the first Black male to be elected to Russian office. Africans are called ‘monkey’ on a regular basis, and attacks on the Moscow Metro are so common that they are no longer reported.

Tang Quoc Binh’s family

The vitriol against Vietnamese immigrants has been even worse. There  have been dozens of attacks against Southeast Asians, a lot of them fatal such as Tang Quoc Binh’s stabbing, the beating of Vu Anh Tuan by a gang of skinheads – who were acquitted in court – and the knifing of a 35 year old Vietnamese woman. A rising number of attacks against Jews has also been reported, including when a man burst into a synagogue in Moscow and stabbed eight people – he drew a 13 year prison term for the crime. One of the worst hate crimes occurred in February 2004 when 9 year old Khursheda Sultanova, a Tajik girl, was murdered by Neo-Nazi skinheads in St. Petersburg.

Little Khursheda

Insults – and bananas – are thrown at Black football (soccer) players so much that it makes one wonder why these athletes would bother going to Russia to play. I suspect that European Blacks think that racism doesn’t exist in Europe but as far as I am concerned, it is much more prominent than in America, though sometimes on a subtle scale. Personally, I would not care to travel to Russia nor to most former Eastern Bloc countries – I have only been to the Czech Republic and I didn’t experience any overt racism there – but overall, I felt more ‘at home’ in countries where there are a larger, more noticeable minority presence, such as the Netherlands, France, and even Germany.

With the rise in racist incidents worldwide, I don’t see racism in Russia being treated as a problem any time soon by the White majority.

Who Gives a Fuck…?!?

About keeping up with the slutty Kardashians? I mean, really…who the hell cares? A person would have to have absolutely no social life whatsoever to even watch 5 minutes of that boring reality show. As for Christina and Tarek getting divorced…so fucking what? What the hell was she doing married to a guy with an Arab name anyhow? He ought to be tired of looking at that bleached blonde bimbo.

Does anyone truly care that Miley Cyrus is a homegrown whore? I certainly don’t and neither should anyone else, at least not those of us with any sense at all. I get sick and tired of Tweets about that tramp Miley giving head on stage – reminds me of the bullshit about that ghetto skank Lil’ Kim back in the day before her beloved obese gorilla got his fat ass capped by a cop – or whoever. Though the rumors of her passing out upon belting down several ounces of cum continued even after Biggie’s murder.

Remember the tales of Lindsay Lohan? I got so frustrated with all the hype about her drug abuse, as if no other female celebrity had ever been a user before – now you barely hear a peep about the bitch. Good riddance, I say! Then there was Britney Spears, a no-talent twat if ever I heard of one. The fact she came out with her bipolar business speaks volumes about what sort of white trash she really is.

How about Brangelina? LOL, what a riot! Brad Pitt looks like shit, and Angeline Jolie’s an anorexic with puffy lips and no tits. Who wants to hear about them and their ‘rainbow family’? I think people shouldn’t adopt children of other races because it confuses them, which is one reason I don’t agree with all the Caucasians adopting Chinese and Korean and African babies – get your own White kids, hell there are plenty of Russian orphans out there needing homes. Leave the minority kids to their own kind, maybe then chink women won’t run after honkie men so damn much.

I hate the way people fawn over athletes. If these dumb jocks couldn’t kick or hit a ball, they would be ciphers to the world. There’s no need to glorify a noodle-brain who isn’t doing a damn thing to aid humanity – all they care about are themselves, their sports, and their trophy wives (who are as dumb as the jocks they marry in a way, only a tad bit smarter because they managed to snag a rich guy who is also stupid so they can bankrupt the bastard in a few years without his suspecting a thing).

Damn, how I fuckin’ hate people…!!!

Sarcasm Rules

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but the highest form of intelligence.”

― Oscar Wilde

I believe sarcasm is healthy. I see nothing wrong with sarcastic comments because I have always been wittily sarcastic myself, even as a child. When a family friend joined the army, I told him: “You’re in the army now, you’re in the army now, you’ll never get rich, you son of a bitch, you’re in the army now!” All the adults, the guy in question included, laughed except my grandmother, who was the only person to scold me about ‘cussing’. I didn’t know ‘son of a bitch’ was a cuss word at that time, I had only heard an adult sing the phrase in some old war movie and thought it was cool to say.

My natural-born sarcasm, when it’s unimpeded, can be a bit overbearing at times and I’m the first to admit that.  – Tom Bergeron

I’ll speak for myself, but there’s a lot of humor to be found in sarcasm and darkness. You talk to any paramedic, they survive by developing a pretty off-kilter sense of humor. – Nicolas Cage

Sarcasm helps me overcome the harshness of the reality we live, eases the pain of scars and makes people smile. – Mahmoud Darwish

As a former writer for the ‘National Lampoon,’ I’ve probably contributed to the sea of sarcasm in which we live. – P. J. O’Rourke

My dream part would be to play Mitt Romney’s sarcastic black maid. We could call it ‘Mammy & Me.’ – Natasha Leggero

I’m a sarcastic person, and people don’t get my humor sometimes. – Sarah Hyland

My mom was sarcastic about men. She would tell me Adam was the rough draft and Eve was the final product. She was a feminist minister, an earth mom who wore a bra only on Sundays. – Daphne Zuniga

Being the offspring of English teachers is a mixed blessing. When the film star says to you, on the air, ‘It was a perfect script for she and I,’ inside your head you hear, in the sarcastic voice of your late father, ‘Perfect for she, eh? And perfect for I, also?’ – Dick Cavett

Oscar Wilde was the epitome of a sarcastic wit, Most of the quotes attributed to him (which I have included below) are the height of sarcasm, and I have Tweeted many on Twitter and even posted a few to Facebook though it appears that sarcasm is lost on most of the simpletons that have Facebook accounts – either people have gotten dumber or they were never smart to begin with (as I suspect).

My Top 10 sarcastic quotes from Oscar Wilde, who if he were alive today would be a member of the Rainbow Nation for sure, waving a multi-hued flag & surrounded by fag hags in a coffee shop in San Francisco or some other queer-laden city:

1. I think that God, in creating man, somewhat overestimated his ability.

2. The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast.

3. The only thing to do with good advice is pass it on. It is never any use to oneself.

4. Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.

5. When I was young I thought that money was the most important thing in life; now that I am old I know that it is.

6. True friends stab you in the front.

7. Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months.

8. There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.

9. Genius is born—not paid.

10. The old believe everything, the middle-aged suspect everything, the young know everything.

And here’s a Dorothy Parker (1927 issue of Life) quote about Oscar Wilde:

If, with the literate, I am
Impelled to try an epigram,
I never seek to take the credit;
We all assume that Oscar said it.


According to the Urban Dictionary,

A Trumpanzee is a mindless follower and believer of Donald Trump. Observe these primitive creatures from a safe distance, as they are known to attack. Trumpanzees are un-evolved members of society known for nonsensical, sexist, racist, and inflammatory remarks. Their low intelligence makes them impervious to facts, and they seem to have an affinity to HUGE walls.
Trumpeter David Duke
I would probably agree with the example above (which is the top definition submitted) because I have observed the same mindless, racist, and sexist bullshit spewing forth via social media ever since Trump announced that he was running for president. My brother, an ardent Trumpet, smashed the taillight of his new car accidentally (by backing into a telephone pole) when he learned that I hadn’t voted for his beloved Donald. If this isn’t a case of Trumpanzeeism, I don’t know what is!
America – aside from the Trumpeters that is – now is in a state of being Trumpatized. That is defined as:
Being traumatized by the sheer stupidity of Donald Trump, and the people voting for him.
“What has happened to America? Why are these people supporting this idiot Trump guy?” said Becky.
“I’d be so trumpatized if he actually manages to become president.” Cindy replied.
“I’m moving to Canada.” Becky responded.
My boyfriend is another Trumpanzee who will believe any little social media lie that is posted about Hillary, Obama or any other member of the Democratic party, but when it comes to the truth about his precious Trump, he immediately protests that it’s not true. Of course, the guy only holds a GED and works a blue collar job, what should I expect from an anti-intellectual who can barely read and spell?
I’ve come to believe that a large number of Trumpeters are barely literate – my boyfriend has a buddy whose 90+ year old grandmother registered to vote for the first time in her life, and voted for Trump! I’m pretty sure the old dame barely graduated high school if she even made it past the seventh grade. The majority  of my boyfriend’s friends are typical Southern rednecks who frequently post very pro Trump memes (especially now that the moneybags has bought his way into the White House); I have told him that I would not care to meet any of those Trumpanzee-ass racists because I would probably cut them down with my sarcastic wittiness, for I keep my tongue honed sharp as a razor with daily verbal work outs.
It has been proven that the greater number of Trumpanzees are indeed racist, definitely sexist, and most likely not very well educated. If anyone holding a BA or higher degree voted for that Oompa Loompa-hued, power-hungry piece of shit, something is seriously missing inside their skulls. Not that Hillary Clinton was a better candidate; she was just as bad, in my opinion. I didn’t vote for either fool but that doesn’t matter now. What does is the gloating of the Trumpeters on social media, thinking that Mr. Toupee is actually going to build that wall, raise their pathetic minimum wage so they can afford to move out of the trailer parks they reside in, banish Obamacare which the Trumpanzees hate simply because Obama came up with it (if Bush had, or Trump, they wouldn’t despise it so much), and force American companies to stop hiring wetbacks – who will soon be deported – and employ legal US citizens instead.
I’m sorry to bust your collective bubble, Trumpeters, but I doubt that any of those changes will occur.