(h/t LC Mike in Chi):

A former Marine became the target of an alleged assault in a McDonald’s Friday night, as a crowd of youths cornered him and demanded he answer the question, “do you believe black lives matter?” Before knocking him unconscious and robbing him.

Christopher Marquez, a veteran of Iraq and recipient of the Bronze Star for valor, said he was dining at a McDonald’s in northwest D.C. when a group of black teenagers came up to him and allegedly began harassing him about the black lives matter movement. Marquez ignored them which prompted calls and shouts that he was a racist.

Marquez left the establishment after eating, but allegedly sustained a sudden blow to the back of his head outside the McDonald’s, which knocked him unconscious. When he woke up, his pants were ripped and wallet gone, which contained $400 in cash, three credit cards, his VA medical card, school identification, metro card and driver’s license.

The “alleged” assault was caught on an “alleged” camera and stored on “alleged” footage as reported by the “alleged” owner of the “alleged” McDonald’s.

Seriously, could we just fucking let go of the “alleged” when reporting on indisputable facts, media? Hmm?

It’s getting quite tedious, you know. Next, you’ll be reporting on how the Sun “allegedly” rose in the “alleged” East this morning, you dumbfucks.

Now that we’ve got this off of our chests…

First… and you’ll have to pardon us, but we’ve not become known for not speaking our mind, we have to note that this brother’s situational awareness leaves a bit to be desired. Yes, he was cold-cocked by those thieving, cowardly fucks because they didn’t have the balls to face a Marine in face to face combat, but they shouldn’t have been able to. Sorry, but them’s the fact. Had it been ourself, and there but for the grace of G-d go we, our old Sar Major would have said the same without a moment’s hesitation. And he’d be right.

Then let us add, lest weak minds think that we’re besmirching a brother, a true man whose beers we’d be honored to be allowed to pay for as long as he can chug ’em down, that we also understand why it happened. It happened simply because that Marine was a peaceful, honorable man who saw no need to beat those scrawny hood rats into bloody paste and preferred to just walk off, minding his own business. A truly good man, quite contrary to the bloodthirsty, violent, mentally unstable, baby-killing monster caricature that our “media” like to portray our troops at.

His choice not to stand and confront the miserable, filthy, subhuman vermin certainly had nothing to do with him not liking the odds. Don’t make us laugh. If he’d chosen to teach the snots a lesson, they’d be waking up in the ICU and they’d be eating through a tube for months. But he showed mercy and pity on the unenlightened, barbaric savages, and showed incredible courage in turning his back on them. It turned out to be the wrong choice in this case, but let no man doubt that Marine’s courage and honor, because he has more than most of us will ever hope to achieve, and we salute him.

And, of course, we also know that if he had, hindsight always being 20/20, chosen to stomp the stinking parasites into the concrete in self defense, he would have been immediately portrayed as a racist, blood thirsty monster for six weeks straight by the very same media who are now “strangely” silent on the whole affair.

Our main point here is this: You can’t and you won’t ever gain anything from treating animals like they have some sort of value, like they are in any way worthy of being called members of the human race. It doesn’t matter if it walks on its hind legs. If you encounter a jackal, act accordingly.

Do black lives matter? Of course they do. Or, as we like to put it: ALL lives matter. But that’s because we, unlike Prozis, are not a racist.

And that Marine showed that he feels the same way. Because if he hadn’t, those worthless wastes of skin would have been mentioned only in obituaries today.

Lives matter. Except for the ones that don’t. The baying jackals, the illiterate, parasitical, two-legged vermin who attacked that honorable man belong to the group of lives that don’t now. Except inasmuch as it would be better to end theirs sooner, rather than later.

You want a “dialogue”, howling animals? You better learn how to speak human first, or we’ll be more than happy to deliver a monologue.

From the barrel of a gun. And our kind knows how to use one.


By Emperor Misha I

Ruler of all I survey -- and then some.

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