Day 1: MAGA Hats, Leftwing Lies, and Vengeance Tuesday, January 22, 2019 The American media’s despicable crucifixion of the Covington kids so enraged me that I dug out the MAGA hat I bought last summer at a souvenir shop in Lower Manhattan and wore it on the R train from Brooklyn into Manhattan. I did not give this much prior thought; it was a gut reaction to the vicious hatred that the “progressives” / Maoists / liberals / communists / socialists / democrats / “social justice warriors” have been inflicting upon our country since Obama’s election in 2008. The savagery directed at the Covington kids was just the latest example in a long list of left-wing media hit jobs, but without question this was the most abhorrent. For anyone who’s been living under a rock and did not hear about the American media’s darkest hour, I’ll recap. Some school kids from Covington, Kentucky were visiting Washington, D.C. on January 18th to attend the annual March for Life. After the march, the kids were peacefully waiting for their bus to go home. Some of the kids were wearing “Make America Great Again” caps. A nearby group of racist, lunatic-fringe, black protestors who call themselves the “Black Hebrew Israelites” began hurling vicious insults at the kids. Then a crackpot, racist American Indian – later revealed to have a long history of lying and shady behavior – began beating a drum just inches from the face of one of the kids, who merely stood his ground and smiled at the aggressive drum beater. The despicable left-wing American media and their gullible, brown-shirt followers immediately began vilifying the kids as the instigators of the incident instead of telling the truth about what happened, which was obvious for all to see from the numerous cell phone videos of the incident. The simple truth is that the children had done absolutely nothing wrong: they were attacked out of the blue by hate-spewing black racists; by a racist American Indian; and soon thereafter by the left-wing American media propagandists and their brainwashed lackeys. I had to do something to avenge this deplorable injustice, so I donned my MAGA hat in solidarity with the Covington kids and got on the R train in Sunset Park in Brooklyn. Once on board, I casually slid my gaze around the subway car. Several young feminazis and fascist geldings began shooting angry stares at me. My instinct was to stare back and “smirk,” i.e., maintain a civilized, pleasant expression until they looked away (the brave Covington boy who smiled at the aggressive drum banger was accused later by some pathetic snowflakes of committing the heinous crime of “smirking”). One especially enraged feminazi exited the subway car, then waited until the subway doors closed (typical cowardly left-winger) and flipped me the bird. I returned the favor while brazenly letting loose with a double-barreled smirk. Didn’t have a chance to take her photo because my phone was tucked away in my briefcase. Next time I’ll have my cell phone at hand to record the totalitarian leftists’ open-minded and tolerant reactions to . . . gasp, a hat. I got off the R train at Union Square, which is Commie Central in New York, feeling some mild trepidation because of an earlier encounter I had had two years before when an obviously hired mob of communist provocateurs was storming up Broadway towards Union Square Park and I instinctively reacted by lifting my arm aloft, shooting them the bird and keeping my middle finger defiantly extended. The mob instantly surrounded me and started braying “Nazi, Nazi, Nazi,” getting inches from my face, trying to get me to lose my temper and lash out at them (they are well-versed in such tactics). But I held my ground and stood there calmly while they swarmed around me like ferocious animals. The fiends finally dispersed when they sensed that I wasn’t going to respond to their baiting. After arriving at Union Square wearing my MAGA hat . . . nothing happened. Probably because it had been so unusually cold lately (more evidence of “global warming” don’t cha know) that many people were not venturing out of their warm, cozy capitalist-built, capitalist-warmed, and capitalist-furnished apartments, preferring instead to curl up and watch their capitalist-produced televisions and eat capitalist-produced popcorn. So, I moseyed over to the Trader Joe’s to do some shopping, totally ignoring everyone as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to go grocery shopping in Manhattan wearing a bright red in-your-face MAGA hat. I’m sure quite a few heads were quietly exploding all around me in that congregation of lost souls. Then I wandered down 14th Street, wondering if I was being trailed by commie thugs and wishing I had eyes in the back of my head. Then wandered down Broadway to the ultra-lib Strand bookstore, which has racks and racks of anti-Trump and pro-feminazi paraphernalia scattered throughout the store. This was a delicious experience because I love all bookstores, even the Strand, but have been personally boycotting them for a couple of years because of their virulent leftism, intolerance, and Trump-hatred. So, thanks to Donald J. Trump, I resumed one of my favorite New York activities: browsing around the Strand, enjoying the classical music in the background while brazenly wearing my MAGA hat and savoring the knowledge that brains were quietly exploding all around me. So delicious. Then I left the store to go home. As I was waiting for the R train at Union Square, a black man came up to me and quietly said something, which startled me at first because I didn’t understand what he had said in the din of the subway station. He repeated, “I like your hat.” I looked him deep in the eyes and thanked him from the bottom of my heart. He responded by saying “MAGA,” and we went our separate ways. I rode the train to the tip of lower Manhattan to make my connection to the Staten Island ferry, with no apparent anti-hat incidents. At the ferry I was more grateful than usual for the myriad of policemen (oops, I mean policepersons) who keep the ferry safe. I brazenly but casually strolled around the ferry for a while, not sure what to expect but no one seemed to give a crap. It is New York, after all. So, I made it home safely, and hours later was still thinking about the black man’s quiet words of encouragement on the subway platform. For the first time in a long while I was thinking that we will make it through this dark time in our country’s history, and that the satanic forces of socialism and statism that have been metastasizing in our country since Woodrow Wilson’s presidency will ultimately be vanquished. Certainly, it won’t be easy to undo more than a hundred years of indoctrination and damage, but nothing worthwhile ever is easy. |

Day 2: I’m Not Alone Wednesday, January 23, 2019 On my way to work, decided to take a detour and head up to Trump Tower to buy another MAGA hat. Red isn’t my color and the hat makes me look a bit like Elmer Fudd, although I will continue to wear the red one sometimes because it is now iconic and hard to ignore. On the ferry to Manhattan, a sort of tough-looking guy wearing a hoodie and camouflage pants came over and sat across from me. I braced myself for who knows what, and then he said, “nice hat.” I thanked him and said I was heading uptown to buy another one. We had a good chat, just two patriotic American guys shooting the breeze (now vilified as “rightwing extremists” by the far-left fascist media propagandists, who, of course, are the true extremists in our country). When I arrived at Trump Tower, wearing my MAGA hat, one of the formidable guards at the entrance said “Welcome, sir!” That had never happened in my numerous visits to Trump Tower since Trump’s election. Bought a flattering blue MAGA hat and wore it as I walked down Fifth Avenue to catch the F train to Brooklyn, making a point of walking through Rockefeller Center, one of my favorite buildings in New York. While sailing along, admiring the beautiful capitalist-created architecture, sculpture and murals (it’s amazing how quickly the novelty of wearing the hat was beginning to wear off after less than 24 hours), a handsome man in a pack of hotties called out “like your hat” as we passed each other. I wore the hat on the F train, then the R train, then on the bus into Red Hook without incident. There may have been some nasty stares thrown my way (or friendly stares), but at that point I had pretty much reverted to my usual New York zoned-out commuting self, so I don’t know if anyone was reacting or not. After leaving work, I felt like annoying some libtards, so headed over to the Trader Joe’s on Sixth Avenue in Manhattan. While I was there, I only noticed one person glaring at me, a girly man who apparently was having a mild case of the vapors upon seeing my hat. I pretended he didn’t exist. Then, back to the Staten Island ferry to take me home. As I was boarding the ferry, one of the guards with the bomb-sniffing dogs said, sotto voce, “nice hat.” I smiled, said thanks, gave him a friendly wave and boarded the ferry . . . and decided that I would stop calling New York City “New York Shitty.” |

Day 3: RED vs. BLUE Thursday, January 24, 2019 Wore my new blue MAGA hat on the bus to the ferry, and then on the ferry to Manhattan. No incidents. I’ve realized that the color of the MAGA hat I wear probably influences people’s reactions. The blue hat is flattering. The red hat makes me look like Elmer Fudd and stands out like a bonfire. Maybe red does trigger anger; perhaps bullfighters wave red flags in front of bulls for a reason, maybe “seeing red” means more than we realize. Got off the R train in Park Sloppe (a.k.a. Park Slope, one of New York’s most rabidly left-wing enclaves) to catch the bus to Red Hook. A pair of feminazis passed me on the sidewalk and one of them said in a loud condescending voice “oh, really? he loves his big hat.” I ignored them but I wanted to say in a thick lordly Southern drawl, “honey, your pathetic attempts to shame me into submission may work with the geldings and soyboys you run with, but they’re like water on a duck’s back to me . . . have a nice day.” By the way, why do so many men talk through their noses nowadays? I hear their annoying high-pitched nasally voices everywhere all the time. What is that about? I assume it’s some sort of self-inflicted / internalized emasculation. |

Day 4: Miracles on 14th Street? Friday, January 25, 2019 Am heading into Manhattan on the Staten Island ferry. My moxie level is a bit low today because of a lingering sinus infection, so am wearing my blue MAGA hat instead of the apparently incendiary red one. No incidents . . . that I am aware of. Truth be told, I’ve grown somewhat bored with trying to monitor people’s reactions. If people speak to me / confront me / try to shame me (good luck with that), then all well and good. I keep my phone cocked and ready now, just in case some “open-minded, tolerant” progressive / Maoist / socialist / liberal / communist / democrat / feminazi / gelding / “journalist” / Alinskyite / Satanist / failed presidential candidate / (fill in the blank) goes berserk. At this point, I wish they would, if only to break up the monotony of commuting. In the evening, I stopped in at the Trader Joe’s on 14th Street. While waiting in the long rush-hour dinner line, I started chatting with a spaced-out but friendly young man. We chatted the whole time, mainly about how wonderful Trader Joe’s is. He didn’t mention my hat or even appear to notice it. As we got to the head of the line, he went his way, I went mine, and we wished each other a good weekend. At one point, when I slowly turned around ostensibly to look for something (but really to give the entire line a nice big fat view of my hat), I noticed that the woman standing behind me was wearing an extremely aggrieved expression. “Whatever for,” I wondered. Bwahahahaaaa. So much fun to “trigger” the snowflakes. At the cash register, the clerk apparently didn’t notice my hat at first. When she did notice it, she burst out laughing, then said “I have a different version of that, but you probably don’t want to hear it.” I replied in a friendly tone, “probably not, but that’s ok.” It was a pleasant little détente, and I wished her a happy weekend. Then took the crosstown bus down 14th Street. When I took my seat on the bus, I noticed that the woman sitting across from me was staring quite blatantly at me. It wasn’t an angry stare, more of an astonished stare. I simply maintained a friendly expression and pretended to ignore her because I wasn’t in the mood for any more conversations just then. She signaled to her friend to look at me by half-surreptitiously pointing at her forehead (I clearly saw what she did). Then she said in a loud voice “I really am surprised, really surprised,” obviously referring to me and my hat. It was not said maliciously, though, but as if I were invisible, the way some people talk in front of their servants. I found the whole thing quite amusing, so I had to really concentrate on maintaining a neutral expression. It helped in that endeavor to ponder the fact that the woman would probably be haunted by my hat for quite some time, and that the experience might – just might – play some small part in helping to liberate her imprisoned mind from the chains of the P.C. Thought Police. Here a bubble, there a bubble, everywhere a bubble bursting . . . and eventually we’ll have a free country again. |

Day 5: Bitter Clinger MAGA Stroll Saturday, January 26, 2019 It is COLD in New York today. 27 degrees. I can imagine some Northerners scoffing but I’m from the South. 27 degrees is the North Pole to Southerners. On a day like this I would normally be wearing my Men’s Heritage Shearling Hat from Cabela’s, but I remind myself that George Washington’s soldiers at Valley Forge were near starvation during the terrible winter of 1778, and some of those unimaginably stalwart men did not even have shoes. The least I can do is tough it out and wear my warm-weather MAGA hat when it’s cold outside. By the way, if anyone is desperate to get away from the New York City Lunatic Asylum, I would suggest a weekend trip to the land of Bitter Clingers. The Cabela’s where I bought my shearling hat is a gargantuan (250,000 sq. ft.!) megastore in Hamburg, Pennsylvania, just a two-hour drive from New York (longer, of course, if you take the scenic and vastly more interesting back roads). Valley Forge is a little over an hour from Cabela’s and a mere two hours from New York. Throw in a spa stopover somewhere along the way and you’ve got yourself a perfect temporary antidote to the totalitarian “progressive” insanity of New York. You’ll see what I mean when you gaze in wonder at the miles of firearms for sale at Cabela’s. Puts everything into perspective. Am heading out today to run some errands, mainly to search for an inconspicuous body cam. Stopped along the way for a quick foray into my favorite flea market in New York (the one on 25th Street; old timers will correct me by saying “what’s left of the one on 25th Street”). One person there remarked upon my hat and asked if it was an “ironic” statement. I’m not even sure what he meant, but I casually shook my head “no,” shrugged, and continued my inspection of an amazingly well-preserved metal hobby horse from the 1940s. More synapses misfiring, another bubble burst. Then headed down Sixth Avenue to check out the hodgepodge of junque being sold by the sidewalk vendors between 25th and 23rd Streets. You never know; sometimes treasures are found amidst the chaff. While I was perusing an amusing jumble, the vendor at the table said, “I didn’t know they came in blue.” My reaction: hunh? Then I realized he was referring to my hat, so I told him that there are cornucopias of MAGA hats for sale at Trump Tower. He gave me the thumbs up, and I continued my slo-mo junque crawl down Sixth. Stopped in at the Union Square Petco to visit the homeless kitty cats waiting to be adopted. I want all of them. Then meandered into the huge Barnes & Noble around the corner. Picked up some amazingly patriotic and blatantly Christian Christmas (not “holiday”) cards for 75% off. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a prissy clerk giving me the evil eye (am getting quite adept at seeing out of the corners of my eyes). Popped into Trader Joe’s wine shop on 14th Street (which I highly recommend: excellent selection and excellent prices) and noticed a young woman freaking out when she saw my hat. I pretended she didn’t exist. New Yorkers know this is the best way to respond to insane people. On the subway to the ferry, I happened to notice a 60-ish sort of hippie-ish guy (he had unkempt long hair and was badly dressed, so I assume he was a hippie) trying to shame me with an exasperated stare. I ignored him, of course. On the ferry, nothing happened, as usual. I sure do love those ferry policemen (and they are men, by the way). |

Day 6: Birth of a Nation, Schubert and Carrot Pye Sunday, January 27, 2019 A balmy 47 degrees today. Am heading into Manhattan to attend a lecture at the Fraunces Tavern Museum on eighteenth-century cookery presented by the culinary historian and cook, Lavada Nahon. No one on the ferry seemed to notice or care about my MAGA hat. Today is a day of cultural riches in New York: a GroupMuse event at the same time is featuring Schubert’s sublime piano Fantasy in F minor for four hands (almost as good as the bucket banging at the Union Square subway station). I opted for the Fraunces lecture because attendees will be served an authentic eighteenth-century dinner prepared by Nahon: beef pasty, chicken fricassee, carrot pudding, potato and onion pye, pickled beets, cabbage salad, spiced pears, sugar gingerbread, and cranberry tart. Scrumptious! Nahon’s worthy scholarship brings to light the history of the enslaved and free African-American cooks of New York. One should keep in mind, however, that most families in America, from its very beginning, never had servants – enslaved, indentured, or otherwise. The overwhelming majority of colonists and settlers, Northern and Southern alike, slaved from sunup to sundown carving out homesteads with their own bare hands, clearing land, chopping wood, building cabins, farming, cooking, etc. with no outside help. Nor, of course, did they enjoy any of the technologies and wonders we take for granted today: electricity, indoor plumbing, central heating, air conditioning, refrigeration, supermarkets, tractors, automobiles, paved roads, trains, airplanes, bicycles, computers, cell phones, toilet paper, etc. (and why anyone in his right mind would defend the evil system of Capitalism for inflicting such things upon humanity is beyond me. It’s so obvious that carving out a hardscrabble existence in the wilderness was, like, you know, like, way better than, like, living in Amerikkka today). It’s amazing how many people don’t know about the Fraunces Tavern, or don’t even know that George Washington was sworn in as our very first president just up the street. But, of course, the “educators” in our public indoctrination centers (oops, I mean “schools”) don’t teach basic history anymore. But who cares? The kids are learning much more important things like how to slide a condom onto a cucumber and what a horrible, racist, and repressive country the United States is. Which, of course, is why every oppressed person on the planet wants to come here. After leaving the Fraunces event, I felt like taking a walk so headed up Broad St. to revisit the site where Washington was sworn in on April 30, 1789. Although the original Federal Hall was demolished in 1812, it was replaced in 1842 with a noble neoclassical structure, later adorned in 1883 with a monumental bronze statue of Washington. On my walk, I discovered that the “Defiant Girl” statue that used to stand opposite the famous Charging Bull statue on Broadway had been moved, inexplicably, to Broad Street, where she now stands defying the New York Stock Exchange. Why, I have no idea. Perhaps the people who moved the statue are hoping she will hex the New York Stock Exchange into oblivion, bring down Capitalism, and usher in the Glorious Democratic Socialist Paradise. Because, as we all know, communism has been so successful everywhere it’s been murderously imposed: Russia, Germany (Hitler was a socialist, let’s not forget), Cuba, China, North Korea, Venezuela. It certainly worked out well for the noted communist and community organizer Barry Soetoro, who now lives in a fancy multi-million-dollar mini-mansion protected by some serious fences (i.e. “walls”), on a street protected by fences (i.e., “walls”) at either end. On the ferry ride home, nothing happened, again. Tomorrow may be a red MAGA hat day. I’ve grown attached to the sedate blue one but am getting bored with the non-responses. I miss it when feminazis flip me the bird to demonstrate how open-minded and tolerant they are. |

Day 7: We’re EVERYWHERE (even Starbucks) Monday, January 28, 2019 25 degrees this morning. They’re calling for highs in the teens later this week. When, oh when, is this global warming going to end? Am wearing my red MAGA hat today (the one I bought last summer), hoping that someone who works for the New York Slimes, the New Yorker magazine, or some similar leftwing propaganda rag will see it. Every time I think of how the Covington kids were so heinously smeared and are still being smeared, my resolve to wear my MAGA hats anywhere and everywhere only grows stronger. Am not in the mood for anything confrontational, however; would much rather stay home and continue savoring my latest fun read (Death Comes to Pemberley by P. D. James) but I’ll perk up when I can get a decent cup of coffee. Discovered this morning, to my great chagrin, that I had run out of my good coffee so had to make do with the canned supermarket crap I was saving for emergencies. Starbucks, here I come. True confession: I like their coffee, but in recent years their leftist politics have become so overt and offensive that I’ve pretty much stopped going (except to use their toilets while not buying anything, which apparently is A-OK with the progtards in the company’s upper echelon). But I need coffee, and I’m wearing my MAGA hat, so it’ll be interesting to see how the “baristas” react. Arrive in Manhattan and head to the nearest Starbucks, wait in line and arrive at the cash register to place my order. The barista sees my hat, laughs and gives me a thousand-watt smile and says, “I’ve got my hat at home.” We both laugh uproariously. He says, “they’re such crybabies.” More laughter. I tell him, quite honestly, that he made my day. More smiles. I wait for my order, salute my new friend, and he tells me to have a great day. As I’m leaving, a woman holds the door open for me. We both chortle. I pinch myself. Am I still in New York? Apparently, so. On my way home from work at the end of the day, I exited the ferry at St. George and went to the MTA ticket machines to load up some more time on my metro card. I noticed a pair of mincing millennial geldings glaring at me. I ignored them but as soon as they passed me and had begun to blend into the crowd, I heard a high-pitched nasal voice directed my way saying, “Go kill yourself!” Truly, the tolerance, open-mindedness, and civility of the Left is remarkable. I’m sure the Covington boys would wholeheartedly agree. |

Day 8: Democrat Sh*tholes Tuesday, January 29, 2019 As usual, took the Staten Island ferry to Manhattan this morning, then the R train into Brooklyn, then the bus to Red Hook. I encountered some rude stares, which I pointedly ignored. I am aware, of course, that merely wearing a hat emblazoned with the despicable phrase “Make America Great Again” may not be enough to wake people up sufficiently so that my country will be saved from the leftwing totalitarian fascists (i.e., Democrats) who want to shred the Bill of Rights and turn America into a third-world sh*thole (oops, I mean Socialist Paradise). The Democrats’ success in turning Baltimore, Detroit, Chicago, Cleveland, St. Louis, and California into toilets is not enough for them. Adding New York to the list of cities ruined is at the top of their agenda. A big “thank you” to all the brainwashed, clueless New Yorkers (legal and otherwise) who voted for Andrew “America Was Never That Great” Cuomo, Warren “Bill de Bolshevik” Wilhelm, Alexandria “Dumb as a Rock” Ocasio-Cortez, and all the other corrupt democrat-communist-socialist vermin politicians who have been scheming to turn New York into another totalitarian socialist craphole. By the way, guess which state has the highest rate of out-migration of any state in the country: New York. So, let me see if I understand this. Democrats in New York destroy their home state, then they abandon the mess they made and move to well-managed, civilized states like North Carolina, where they start replicating the entire destructive process all over again. North Carolina used to be solid red; now it’s purple thanks to the invading hordes of clueless New York Democrats. Question for the Yankee invaders: after you’ve destroyed North Carolina, where will you move? I would suggest Venezuela. In the face of these depressing facts, I proudly and defiantly wear my MAGA hat. Despite the occasional nasty stares and flipped birds, this has so far been a gratifying experience (especially when I sense that libtard brains are exploding all around me). And, it is at least something one can easily do to support the first president we’ve had since Reagan who actually loves America and cares about the American people. The return trip to Staten Island at the end of the day is uneventful. Most people are oblivious, in more ways than one. |

Day 9: “Global Warming” Wednesday, January 30, 2019 28 degrees today, with a prediction of 4 degrees for tonight. Pondered at length whether to wear my blue MAGA hat or my incredibly warm shearling hat from Cabela’s. It’s not terribly cold at the moment, but it’s going to get frigid when the sun goes down. Decided to wear my blue MAGA hat and carry my shearling hat in a shopping bag, just in case my ears begin to match the color of my MAGA hat. Notice how the leftwing media propagandists have stopped calling this weather “global warming”? And, does anyone recall the global cooling climate scare being pushed by media propagandists in the 1970s? Truly, anyone with half a brain should know by now not to believe anything the media propagandists say. What the propagandists will never tell you is that the only thing constant about the climate is that it is always changing. Always. A mere eleven thousand years ago – less than the blink of an eye in geological time – Manhattan was covered with a sheet of ice a half-mile thick. Half a mile thick. Then, it naturally began to melt, long before the invention of the internal combustion engine. By the way, the name of the geological epoch in which we currently live is the “Ice Age,” a.k.a. the Pleistocene Epoch, which began about 2.5 million years ago. The defining characteristic of the Pleistocene Epoch is the repeated advance and retreat of huge ice sheets that covered large swaths of the Earth’s surface. Some faux-scientists now believe that the retreat of the last great ice sheet 11,000 years ago heralded the end of the Pleistocene Epoch. The name of the imaginary new epoch these faux-scientists invented is the “Holocene” Epoch. The key word here is “believe” because there are no facts to prove that the ice sheets won’t return. What we do know with absolute certainty is that the last great ice sheets retreated about 11,000 years ago, and that human activity had nothing whatsoever to do with their melting, and it’s safe to say that we are probably, very likely in an “interglacial” period, which is the technical term for the period between the advance and retreat of the gargantuan Pleistocene glaciers. And thank your lucky stars for that, because it’s somewhat difficult to grow food under mile-thick sheets of ice. Very glad I decided to carry my shearling hat with me today. When I left work this evening it was cold as hell and the wind was howling, so I stowed my MAGA hat and donned my shearling hat while waiting for the bus in this Pleistocene weather. Stopped off at the Trader Joe’s on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn to pick up a few essentials. In the lobby of the store I doffed my shearling hat and donned my MAGA hat, hoping that it might cause a few libtard brains to short circuit. When I got to the check-out, the guy behind the register said very softly, almost in a whisper, “I like your hat.” For a second, I thought he was talking about my shearling hat because I had momentarily forgotten that I switched hats when I arrived at the store. He had a lot to say, and unfortunately, I missed a lot of what he was saying because there was so much background noise and because he was so soft-spoken, but the thing he said that stands out in my mind is this: “I think everything is going to work out.” The other thing was his description of working with people who begin sentences with “don’t you agree . . .?” to which he usually responds with a calm “no.” He emphasized that he always remains calm and civil when talking with the people at work who disagree with him. I was impressed by his insightfulness, civility and restraint—so lacking amongst the narrow-minded, intolerant, hateful leftists. I would have liked to chat longer, but I was starving and there were people waiting to check out, so I introduced myself, shook hands, and told him that he had made my evening. Am thinking more and more that, yes, things are going to work out. Later, after leaving the store, I realized that starting sentences with “Don’t you agree . . .“ is a subtle form of bullying, just one more tactic used by left-wing extremists to try to silence dissent. Note to left-wing extremists: your attempts to silence dissent are not working. Another note to left-wing extremists: go throw yourselves into the dung pit of history, where you will be able to spend the rest of eternity contemplating the suffering, misery, and death you have inflicted upon hundreds of millions of innocent people in your worship of the satanic Marxist ideology. Chairman Mao will be there to guide you in your ruminations. And someday Valerie “Obama’s Brain” Jarrett will join him. |

Day 10: Subtle MAGA? Thursday, January 31, 2019 The “global warming” continues to wreak havoc with my MAGA hat activities. It is 8 degrees this morning as I head to work, with a high of 17 predicted. Am definitely wearing my warm shearling Cabela’s hat, but will carry my MAGA hat with me so I can switch back and forth according to where I am. I switch to my MAGA hat when I arrive at the ferry terminal. Today I’m in the mood to try to see if there are any reactions, so I casually walk around not ignoring people. I don’t notice any overt anti-hat behavior, but I do notice a rather significant number of people wearing red, white, and blue (i.e., presumably patriotic) clothing accessories: hats, scarves, emblems, and the like . . . even shoes. I find this encouraging. Interestingly, though, since I began wearing my MAGA hat ten days ago, I haven’t seen one single solitary soul in New York wearing a MAGA hat. This I find not so encouraging, but not surprising. |

Day 11: Jussie “Tawana Brawley” Smollett Friday, February 1, 2019 Jussie “Tawana Brawley” Smollett. Ever hear of him? Me neither. Insignificant, unknown actor who hates Trump and needs a career boost = Hoax. Hoax. Hoax. Hoax. End of story. Leftwing extremists orchestrate hoaxes like this all the time. You’d think this latest hoax, coming so close on the heels of the Covington hoax would make people just a teeeeny tiny bit skeptical. And President Trump, c’mon. You of all people should know better than to jump on a hoax bandwagon. High of 22 today. Spring a mere seven weeks away. Days are getting noticeably longer. Wearing my red MAGA hat today on the ferry as I head up to Trump Tower to buy another MAGA hat. My favorite shop is the gift shop next to the small official Trump paraphernalia gift shop near the waterfall. The immigrant guys who run it are great guys, and extremely patriotic. Later, at the ferry terminal on my way home, one of those big, burly, salt-of-the-earth, tough, blue-collar, hear-of-gold, fearless New York guys shouts out, “Like your hat, baby!” |

Day 12: Sanity from the Ivory Coast Saturday, February 2, 2019 Not so cold today, near 30, so I leave the shearling hat at home and wear my red MAGA hat as I head into Manhattan to run some errands. On the 4 train heading to the Upper East Side I notice a young guy and his girlfriend, twenty-somethings, nicely dressed. They both shoot nasty stares my way. I stare them down. I have four siblings; I know about staring contests. I need some new gloves, so I decide to visit the Century 21 near Lincoln Center because they always seem to have a huge selection of gloves. As I’m walking up Eighth Avenue, a Neanderthal man shouts at me, “Go to Hell.” I return the sentiment, but louder. The only way to deal with bullies is to fight back, twice as hard. It’s the only language they understand. When I get to Century 21, lots of people notice my hat; I can see them out of the corners of my eyes, can feel their stares. I pretend to ignore them. The Hat is more powerful when I do that. Afterwards, I take the 1 train downtown to do some more shopping, casually strolling up and down the subway platform while waiting for the train. The Upper West Side libtards on the platform get a good gander at my hat, and I sense a multitude of brains misfiring. The subway car is full of glum, depressed Upper West Siders. Some, when they see my hat, appear to become even more depressed. I feel sorry for them, but they deserve to be miserable for being such narrow-minded, ignorant bigots. They chose to put their rational minds into lock-down mode. They chose to shun, insult and shout down anyone with whom they disagree. So, now they are paying the price for their stupidity and arrogance. Later, on the way home, I take the 4 train to the Staten Island ferry. I’m in a zoned-out commuting frame of mind, not paying much attention to anything but I happen to glance over and see a black guy grinning ear to ear. He gives me the thumbs up, I reciprocate and give him a megawatt grin. When a seat opens up next to him, I go over and sit next to him and we start chatting. He’s from Africa, the Ivory Coast, and immigrated legally in the mid-80s, jumped through all the hoops. Knows exactly what’s going on in this country. Been in New York since 1986, so he knows a lot more about Trump than I do. Tells me he loves Trump; always knew he would be a great president. After boarding the ferry, while I’m searching for a quiet seat away from the cretins who play barbaric, primitive “music” on their phones, a guy interrupts his phone conversation to shout out, “love your hat!” A few seconds later another guy walks by and shouts out “Make America Great Again!” |

Day 13: NYC Bigotry Sunday, February 3, 2019 Am wearing my blue MAGA hat while heading to midtown to visit the main branch of the New York Public Library to do some research. Beautiful sunny day, temps in the mid-30s. The weather seems to be lifting everyone’s spirits. When I arrive at 42nd street and am about to enter the library, I encounter a group of young black men walking down Fifth Avenue handing out free cds. One of the guys thrusts three cds into my hands, which I politely hand back, explaining that I have too many cds already. The guy says, “the music will help you channel your inner black person.” I say, “I’m from the South, I grew up with black people, I don’t need help channeling my inner black person.” Then one of the guys says, but not in a malicious tone, “Make America White Again.” I calmly reply, “that’s not what it says” thinking that maybe we can have a dialogue. Then the guy next to him suddenly reaches over and tries to knock off my hat, and they quickly resume their procession up Fifth Avenue. It’s not in my nature to allow such an affront to go unchallenged, so I hurry after them and tap the hat of the perp who tried to knock off my hat, just to make him aware that his behavior was not acceptable. His friends then have to restrain him from attacking me, while I point at them yelling “racist, racist, racist.” Of course, the left-wing extremists (a.k.a. Democrats) in America would call me a racist, would somehow twist things to say that I was the person at fault in that little contretemps, just as the Covington kids were so terribly maligned in their infinitely more egregious encounter with the “liberal” media propagandists and their blind followers. Yes, there are bigots in America . . . and I know who they are. |

Day 14: Just Another SJW (Stupid Juvenile Wimp) Monday, February 4, 2019 An uneventful day, as Mondays often are. I head directly to work, wearing my blue MAGA hat. From the Staten Island ferry I decide to alter my routine and hike over to Pier 11 to catch the small NYC Ferry to Red Hook. On the small ferry, I notice an SJW-ish young woman glaring at me. I return her stare just long enough to acknowledge her stare and to let her know that I know exactly what she’s thinking. And then I totally ignore her. On the trip home at the end of the day, I don’t give a s**t what anyone is thinking about my hat. I sip a beer in the ferry terminal while waiting for the ferry to carry me back to Staten Island, thinking how nice it is that the Overlords have granted us the freedom to consume beer and wine in the terminal and on the ferry. |

Day 15: Invisible MAGA Hats Tuesday, February 5, 2019 A gorgeous day today, highs in the low 60s! The idea of a beach outing is so seductive I can hardly stand it. Few things are as restorative and healthy as taking a long walk by the ocean, soaking in the blue light from above, listening to the waves and shore birds. It’s all I can do to force myself to be a responsible grownup and stay in town to complete the tasks that must be done. It is slight consolation to remember that the sun is still too low on the horizon for the human body to manufacture Vitamin D (the sun must be at least 50 degrees above the horizon for that to happen). Slight consolation, indeed, but I also remind myself that warm days will soon be here. Spring is only 42 days away. I’m in an extroverted mood today and restlessly prowl around the ferry, looking for someone to talk to but it’s not that easy. New Yorkers keep to themselves, especially when commuting. People are cocooned within their personal bubbles, still waking up, glued to their phones, napping. A few people are reading. As usual, I’m the only person wearing a MAGA hat, but I know that there are people on board who are wearing invisible MAGA hats. I just can’t locate them, so turn my thoughts to the State of the Union watch party where I’ll be cheering on President Trump in a crowded bar full of rowdy, free Americans, many of whom will, no doubt, be wearing MAGA hats. |

Day 16: State of the Union Wednesday, February 6, 2019 “America was founded on liberty and independence – not government coercion, domination, and control. We are born free, and we will stay free. Tonight, we renew our resolve that America will never be a socialist country.” — Donald J. Trump, State of the Union Address, February 5, 2019. Thank you, President Trump. Thank you. It’s Morning in America again and a beautiful day in New York; temps in the upper 40s. Am wearing my blue MAGA hat today as I head to work. The featured musician performing in the ferry terminal is a guitarist named Shogo Kubo (www.shogokubo.com), who’s playing ethereal arrangements of beautiful, famous tunes. Everyone in the terminal is grooving on the mellow vibe. Suddenly, a woman (in this case, a “wise Latina”) storms into the terminal screaming into her phone (in Spanish, of course), apparently cussing someone out. She rants in public – right out there in the open in the ferry terminal – for a couple of minutes. Thanks, “liberals,” leftists, media, Democrats, Hollywood, academia, Satanists, Bill and Hillary Clinton (but I repeat myself) for coarsening our society and dragging us into the gutter. Your master, Satan is undoubtedly very proud of you. As the ferry glides past the Statue of Liberty, I ponder how many people may have seen my MAGA hat since I started wearing it sixteen days ago. I would estimate roughly several hundred each day (approximately 300). So, 16 days x 300 sightings = 4,800 sightings. I round it up to 5,000 sightings of my MAGA hat in a sixteen-day period. That may be a conservative estimate, however, given the population density of New York. But think about this: what if 100 people had been wearing a MAGA hat in New York every time they went out during the last 16 days? 100 people wearing a MAGA hat x 5,000 sightings in sixteen days = 500,000 sightings. Half a million! And, what if 1,000 people had been wearing a MAGA hat in those sixteen days? I’ll let you do the math. |

Day 17: Epiphany Thursday, February 7, 2019 Wearing a MAGA hat has evolved into the “new normal” for me. The novelty has worn off; I’m trying to remember what it was like before I started wearing the hat. The angry stares are now insignificant. The hat has become just another part of my wardrobe: I wear pants, I wear a shirt, I wear shoes, I wear a MAGA hat. Something else that has evolved is the way I interact with people in anonymous settings while wearing a MAGA hat. When I first started wearing it, I was hyperaware of the hat and hyperaware of people’s reactions. Now, not so much. People like it, don’t like it, or just don’t care. And neither do I care anymore what people think of the hat, unless someone shines a beaming smile at me or shouts out his support. The reason I’m wearing the hat has also evolved. When I first started wearing a MAGA hat, it was specifically to show my support for the Covington boys, and to resist the vicious media propagandists and their brainwashed followers who maligned the boys. But the Covington incident touched a deep nerve within me. Ever since the mid-1980s, when I read Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, I have been acutely aware of the erosion of freedom in America. Although Rand’s masterpiece was an epiphany for me, I experienced an even greater epiphany one day while I was reading the book. I was sitting on a bench in a hallway of the Hanes Art Center at the University of North Carolina, where I was studying art history. An acquaintance walked by, noticed what I was reading, and sneered, “Eew! you’re reading that?” I was nonplussed by her tone but merely replied, “Yes, it’s really good. Have you read it?” She replied, emphatically, “No!” Her self-righteous condemnation of a book that she had not even read momentarily stunned me, but then it was as if a light had suddenly been switched on over my head. I instantly understood the essence of the Left: intolerance, censorship, ignorance, brainwashing, and totalitarianism. Suddenly everything fell into place. So, at least I learned something worthwhile in college, unlike most kids today who leave college knowing literally nothing about history or the great achievements of Western Civilization. Nothing. But I was fortunate. I grew up in a cultured and educated environment in the 1950s, America’s golden age. I entered elementary school in 1957, before the left-wing totalitarians took over academia, the media, religion, and science. My teachers in public school did not have ideological axes to grind; their goal was not to brainwash but to teach, to open our minds to the wonders of Western civilization, and to the wonders of the universe. It was the Space Age, when anything was possible. Our minds were free then, free to think, to imagine, and to dream. When I was in junior high, in the 1960s, one of my social studies teachers taught us about Karl Marx, in a completely dispassionate and neutral manner. He simply presented the facts to us. From then on, I was aware of the phrase “from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.” I didn’t think much about it at the time, but that phrase – which summarizes the fundamental injustice of Socialism – was planted deeply within my subconscious mind and would slowly but inexorably work its way to the surface of my consciousness when I became a self-aware adult. Then, in high school, I was required to read Fahrenheit 451, Animal Farm, Brave New World and 1984. In the eleventh grade I was required to read Voltaire’s Candide, and was also required to translate Racine’s Phaedra from the original French into English. Before I could leave high school, I was required to read The Canterbury Tales in the original Old English. This was at a high school in rural North Carolina on the far outskirts of Charlotte (admittedly, I was in the advanced classes). I’m one hundred percent certain that the typical high school student today has never even heard of Chaucer, but he (oops, I mean “ze”) probably has heard of J. K. Rowling and the depressingly overrated Toni Morrison. The damage to my country inflicted by the Left—the damage to every aspect of our society—is what enrages me. The dumbing down of the American public is just one thing in a long list of left-wing crimes against our country, but it was always a key component in the Left’s plan to turn America into a brainwashed, totalitarian, socialist police state. Initially, I donned a MAGA hat to show my support for the Covington kids. Now I wear it to support the Covington kids and to defend freedom of thought, freedom of speech, and all the freedoms guaranteed to us by the Constitution of the United States. I wear the hat to resist the left-wing totalitarian fascism that was unleashed in this country when the communist puppet Obama was elected president by the uneducated and brainwashed voters in America. I wear the hat to support all people who revere freedom, in my own country and everywhere on this planet. |

Days 18 – 23: Chicago Bigotry Update Friday, Feb. 8 — Wednesday, Feb. 13, 2019 Not much to report for Days 18 through 23 (Feb. 8 – 13). Spent much of the weekend chillaxing, taking a break from blogging, attending to neglected quotidian tasks, and trying to snag some bargains at my favorite auction house (which will remain nameless so as not to increase the likelihood of creating future bidding wars to my detriment). Rest assured, I did wear a MAGA hat whenever I went out, which makes today the twenty-third continuous day of my wearing a MAGA hat in public. Got the usual reactions: doubletakes, rude stares, compliments. One encounter is worth recounting. On Saturday, I was riding the R train from lower Manhattan to midtown, sitting in the end seat of a bench next to the doors when I sensed a presence hovering near me. At first, I thought it was just one of those people who annoyingly like to lean against the doors, thus blocking ingress and egress of the subway car. Then it occurred to me that maybe it was a malevolent being intent upon harming me. When I looked over to see who it might be, a twenty-something Asian guy leaned over and quietly asked what sort of reactions I had been getting to my hat. I blithely told him that I have been writing about that very subject for the past several weeks. By the way, I mention people’s ethnicity and skin color sometimes, not because I give a flying crap about such superficial things, but to show that Trump’s support is as wide as it is deep. Then the Asian guy confided that he sells MAGA hats online, which sparked an amiable chat between two hat aficionados in which we discussed the finer points of hat design, hat colors, and hat sources. We occasionally detoured into the most up-to-date political happenings, and he naively asked me (me!) if I had heard of the Covington incident. “Of course, I have,” I exclaimed, while handing him a card containing the address of my blog. We had to cut our conversation short when he had to leave the train, but he gave me his card, so we will continue the conversation. One of the big stories all over the internet today is that JussTawana Smellitt has hired Harvey Weinstein’s public relations firm. Is this a naked admission of guilt, that this whole thing was a PR stunt to boost Jusstaweena’s career? Does Jusstawana expect to be charged with filing a false police report? And I wonder, are there degrees of filing false police reports, like first-degree murder and second-degree murder? If his lies end up inciting riots in Shitcago, will he be charged as an accessory to that? And, is inciting hatred against Trump supporters and MAGA hat wearers also a crime? If not, it should be. The one thing that should never be forgotten in this whole stinking, hoaxy, pile of s**t is that the motivation behind Jusstawana’s hoax was to demonize Trump and his supporters. He conjured up the hoax, like a good little totalitarian, brainwashed, Democrat fascist, to engender hatred for Trump and his MAGA-hat wearing supporters. And, to slake his insatiable narcissistic thirst for fame, of course. Never forget that. And, forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but everyone seems to be overlooking it. Jusstawana makes his living by pretending to be people that he is not. He lives in the Land of Make Believe. He’s trained to lie. It’s his profession. He is a professional liar. Don’t forget that. Interesting, isn’t it, how the media propagandists have completely dropped their coverage of the Covington boys, after the propagandists so viciously demonized them? Rush Limbaugh doesn’t call them the “drive-by media” for nothing. They drive by, shoot, spread their lies, then zoom on to their next target. I wonder how long it will take the left-wing media propagandists to drop all coverage of the Jusstawana hoax after Jussteena is revealed to be an opportunistic liar in the service of his narcissism and his TDS (Trump Derangement Syndrome). Probably as quickly as the media propagandists dropped all coverage of the Democrat Governor of Virginia, Ralph (as in vomit) Northam’s pro-infanticide policy and white-hooded college shenanigans. |

Day 24: Jay Street Communion Thursday, February 14, 2019 Happy Saint Valentine’s Day! I have a date with Elektra tonight . . . Richard Strauss’s Elektra, that is. This is the first performance of a new English-language translation by Abigail Dyer, who will also be performing the role of Elektra. As modern to my ears as this opera is, I try to imagine what people thought of it when it was first performed in 1909. I know there was a firestorm of criticism directed against Strauss’s dissonance and extreme chromaticism, as well as Hofmannsthal’s libretto inspired by Sophocles’ Electra. If I had heard it in 1909, I’m sure I would have been harrumphing mightily, as my musical tastes fall firmly in the traditionalist camp. But Strauss’s score is sometimes intelligible, the plot is dreadfully gripping, and I’m looking forward to hearing this new translation. Am wearing my blue MAGA hat today, on this my twenty-fourth continuous day of wearing the Hat. Yesterday, while wearing my bright red MAGA hat, I had an intense experience while waiting at the Jay Street metro station in Brooklyn to catch the F train to Red Hook. A tall, well-dressed, good-looking guy (who happened to have a dark brown complexion) comes up to me and forthrightly asks, “May I shake your hand?” It always surprises me when strangers come up to me wanting to shake my hand. Of course, I gladly and gratefully shake his hand. He tells me I’m brave, but I shrug and say that I’ve been wearing MAGA hats for three weeks, so I’m sort of used to it by now. But I do tell him how much I appreciate his support. He asks if I’ve had any unpleasant encounters, and I say just a couple of relatively minor ones. I explain that most of the negativity consists of rude stares and muttering, but many reactions have been highly complimentary. Our conversation quickly starts pinballing around, touching on many different topics. He tells me that he didn’t pay much attention to politics until the 2016 presidential election (he appears to be in his twenties). Says he was originally for Bernie Sanders, but then became disillusioned by the way the media and the Democrats treated him in their lust to crown Hitlery (I’m paraphrasing here). I mention that the reason I started wearing a MAGA hat was to show my support for the Covington boys and to resist the fascist totalitarianism of the Left; that suppressing free speech is their modus operandi and that I refuse to be cowed. He tells me he’s seen some terrible examples of Leftist repression, which piques my curiosity. “Like what?” I ask. He tells me the story of someone he once saw on the subway, an innocent soul who was merely displaying a sign, trying to spread the truth about what really happened in Haiti after the earthquake of 2010, while Hillary Clinton was Secretary of State, and both Clintons grabbed power in Haiti and funneled much of the relief money into their Pay-For-Play Personal Slush Fund (oops, I mean the “Clinton Foundation”). The lone, brave bearer of the truth on the subway was immediately surrounded and excoriated by rabid left-wingers. Why? Because he dared to tell the truth. Just one more example of the Left’s “tolerance” and “open-mindedness.” During my amazing conversation with this incredibly insightful young man, this grownup (so unlike the immature, brainwashed, spoiled, twenty-something millennial brats one often encounters in New York), I’m kicking myself for not yet having found a good surveillance body cam. The conversation we’re having is almost supernatural and should have been recorded for all to see. The guy tells me that he didn’t like Trump at first, because – he admits – he was brainwashed like everyone else in his crowd (I’m paraphrasing, but that’s the gist of what he said). He mentions that he doesn’t like everything Trump is doing now, to which I merely shrug to indicate that that’s ok; that intelligent people of goodwill can disagree without shouting at each other. He also says that he doesn’t like many Republicans because they’re spineless. The example he gives is when left-wingers unjustly hurl the racist card at Republicans, many of whom then crumple into spineless jellyfish instead of calling the leftists out on their lies. I tell him that we are in complete agreement about that. We talk about how the left-wing “progressives,” the Democrats, Antifa, and anti-Trumpers (I repeat myself) are always calling people like me racist and fascist in order to shut me up, when, in fact, they are the true fascists. I mention that the definition of the word fascism has several components, one of which is the forcible suppression of free speech. And it’s not the Republicans and Trump supporters who are storming around setting cars on fire, smashing windows, physically attacking people, screaming epithets at innocent passersby, telling lies, and creating hoaxes. We get onto the topic of how the leftists pigeonhole people according to the color of their skin or gender or whatever. I point out that I could not care less about those superficial characteristics (and, by the way, neither does anyone I know, most of whom are Republicans). I mention that as far as I’m concerned there is only one race, the human race. Not so for the leftists and Democrats, who care only about superficial characteristics and nothing about the content of a person’s character. He points out that people are social animals, that they feel safe in their little boxes, so when they’re accused of being racist or whatever, they’re afraid of being pushed out of their little boxes. It’s a tactic the Left uses to divide and conquer; to separate everyone into little categories (race, gender, etc.), and then to use intimidation and shaming to try keep them in their little boxes. For someone who never paid attention to politics until 2016, this guy’s insights are amazing. I tell the guy that he should write a blog because he has a fascinating story to tell. I do, admittedly, have an ulterior motive in suggesting that he write a blog. My mission is to save my country from the destruction being caused by the Left. What he has been telling me undermines the hegemony of the Democrats / Leftists / “Progressives” over blacks and “people of color.” It undermines their power to keep blacks on the Democratic Plantation, to keep them enslaved by Big Government. It undermines the Democrats’ goal of keeping everyone on the Big Government Slave Plantation. We covered a lot of territory very quickly, and there were times when I wanted to stop the conversation to seek some clarification, or to explore a point more deeply. When my train finally arrived, I decided to wait for the next one. The next train came and I reluctantly had to break away, but I gave him my card and we parted with a handshake. |

Day 25: Rockaway Normal Land Friday, February 15, 2019 While wearing my blue MAGA hat on the Staten Island ferry this morning, I’m preoccupied with a work document so don’t really pay attention to anyone. On the small ferry from Wall Street to Red Hook, I sit in the front of the boat facing aft, for two reasons. One is so I can avoid accidentally glancing at the huge video panel that shows really annoying ads. For a while, they were showing propaganda cartoon vids of the legendary Trump-hater, gym rat, “supernaturally healthy,” i.e. living corpse Ruth Ginzberg working out with dumbbells. Hmmm, let’s see, how many days did Ruth Wonder Woman miss from work lately? What? 55? The other reason I sit facing aft is so the maximum number of people will see my hat. It’s obvious to me that most of the NYC ferry passengers are libtards. However, there are exceptions. The other day an unexpectedly cheerful guy made a friendly remark, the way normal, happy people do, and it turns out he’s an aficionado of the Rockaways –­ a Rockaway hound –­ like me. While writing this, I instinctively wondered for a millisecond whether I should mention the Rockaways, lest the cat be let out of the bag, but I instantly returned to reality: that cat has been out of the bag for quite a while now. The Rockaways used to be gloriously unknown, a wonderful world unto itself, where only the locals lived and hung out. Then the New York Slimes did a series of articles about the place and word started getting out, and then the hipsters from Williamsburg started descending like locusts, by the thousands, clogging up the beaches, flaunting their tattoos and hipster-speak, like, you know, like, moronically saying “like” every other, like, word. But I will commend them for the fact that most of them do take their trash with them when they leave the beach, which is very important to me, having picked up countless bags of trash from the beach over the years. And, I will admit there are many more good restaurants out there now. So, trade-offs. Whadda ya gonna do. But I do miss the days when there were only a handful of locals at my secret beach, even on a fine summer day. Anyway, this guy I’m chatting with seems completely uninterested in, or unconcerned about my hat—as if wearing a MAGA hat is nothing out of the ordinary. The guy obviously lives in Normal Land, because wearing a MAGA hat is nothing out of the ordinary for normal people. He says that the Rockaways are his “summer home,” tells me that he’s been going out there for decades. I tell him I’m at the beach all the time, too, because I have some garden plots at the Ft. Tilden Community Garden. As I leave the ferry, I urge him to stop by the gardens because there are many friendly, happy people there. He would fit in. I cannot wait to resume my gardening! This time of year, with the days getting longer and Spring inching closer, a gardener’s thoughts begin seriously turning to the new season. My garden catalogs have been arriving since late January. On a day like today, partly sunny, near 50, I have to chain myself to my desk. Each year I have a theme. One year it was “vines.” Another year, “fragrance.” Another, “Cosmos” (to attract honeybees and butterflies). One year it was “natural” (I let whatever wanted to come up, come up. Many “weeds,” as you may know, are edible or have medicinal properties). Last year my theme was “beans.” I haven’t yet decided on a theme for this year, but some very unusual ideas have been percolating around in my mind. |

Day 26: If Walls Don’t Work, Why Do You Lock Your Doors? Saturday, February 16, 2019 Today is a blue MAGA hat day for me, although it may turn into a red MAGA hat day later, depending on where I go. Am taking both with me when I go out. So, Trump signed the bill with all the poison pills yesterday, then declared a national emergency in order to build a wall. Good for him. I’m not losing my mind like Ann Coulter (what is up with that gal?). I’m standing by my man. Trump has been an incredible blessing to this country in thousands of ways, bigly. Considering what he’s been up against, I think he’s done a great job. And I really liked his speech yesterday. Maybe he figured a few more poison pills will just be a drop in the bucket of the thousands upon thousands of poison pills already deeply embedded in our out-of-control government. I don’t know what he was thinking; I’m not privy to any inside information. I’m just a citizen who’s paying attention. I do think it was a smart move not to shut down the government again. Let’s face it: half of the American population are ignorant sheeple who actually believe CNN’s lies. The fact that furloughing hundreds of thousands of non-essential government “workers” did not have any deleterious effects on the country was totally lost on the sheeple. I saw with my own eyes the millions of people dying that no one was dying in the streets because of the shutdown. Those of us who have more than two brain cells know that those non-essential government “workers” should have been permanently furloughed during the last shut-down. That’s the only bone I have to pick with Trump. But no one is perfect. Who knows how all of this will play out? The usual gang of anti-American scum (DimocRats, progs, commie/socialists, left-wing media propagandists, etc., but I repeat myself) were screaming. Why? Because they know that Donald Trump and his supporters (not to mention the huge block of Independent voters, many of whom basically support Trump) pose a mortal threat to their hegemony over the ignorant souls who still support the DimocRat/ Socialist/ Prog / Anti-America party. So, they must do everything in their power to demonize Trump and oppose everything he does. What gets me is that the Dims know that morons like Alexandria “Stupid as a Rock” Ocrazio, who recently helped deprive New York City of 25,000 jobs, are hurting the Dims. They know that a huge majority of Americans want to secure our borders. They know that most Americans are completely revulsed by the recent pro-infanticide law in New York, and by Democrat Governor of Virginia, Ralph “Vomit” Northam’s attempts to enact a similar law in Virginia. They know all of this, but their only strategy is to lash out like cornered animals – which is basically what they are – as they continue digging deeper holes for themselves. Fine with me; keep digging your graves, Dims. And, by the way, if walls “don’t work” or “aren’t necessary,” then why do people live in houses and apartments with doors that lock? Why does Mizzz Nanci Palsy have a wall around her palatial house? Why does Barry Soetoro have walls around his house and at either end of his street? Why do zoos have walls? Everyone who’s paying attention knows that this whole mess is not about whether walls work. Everyone knows that walls work. What this is about is two things: the crony capitalists (Dims and RINOs) who want cheap labor to keep flowing into the country, and the Dims who want the ignorant, brainwashed or illegal residents of this country to keep voting for the Dims. In the first case, a vile disregard for the well-being of the country; in the second, a naked lust for power. |

Day 27: Snowflake Meltdown on the F Train Sunday, February 17, 2019 Last night I was riding the F train in the vicinity of Park Sloppe, wearing my red MAGA hat, minding my own business, contently munching some delicious unsalted tortilla chips from Trader Joe’s. I glanced around and noticed a snowflake staring at me in horror, her face frozen in a contorted mixture of incredulity and rage. I shrugged and continued munching. A few minutes later I glanced over again. The snowflake was doubled over with her face in her hands. MAGA hats apparently have miraculous powers. Welcome to the real world, toots. And don’t blame me for your existential woes; blame your indoctrinators. Why don’t you try dusting off that unused brain of yours and start using it? It’s Sunday morning, and a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Reports are breaking out all over, even on CNN, that Jusstawana Smellett did, in fact, orchestrate the hoax . . . which everyone with a brain already knew. May I indulge in a little gloating? Here’s what I posted on Day 11 of the Chronicles (Feb. 1): “Jussie “Tawana Brawley” Smollett. Ever hear of him? Me neither. Insignificant, unknown actor who hates Trump and needs a career boost = Hoax.

Hoax. Hoax. Hoax. End of story. Leftwing extremists orchestrate hoaxes like this all the time. You’d think this latest hoax, coming so close on the heels of the Covington hoax would make people just a teeeeny tiny bit skeptical. And President Trump, c’mon. You of all people should know better than to jump on a hoax bandwagon.” And here’s what I posted on Day 23 of the Chronicles (Feb. 13): “The one thing that should never be forgotten in this whole stinking, hoaxy, pile of s**t is that the motivation behind Jusstawana’s hoax was to demonize Trump and his supporters. He conjured up the hoax, like a good little totalitarian, brainwashed, Democrat fascist, to engender hatred for Trump and his MAGA-hat wearing supporters. And, to slake his insatiable narcissistic thirst for fame, of course. Never forget that. And, forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but everyone seems to be overlooking it. Jusstawana makes his living by pretending to be people that he is not. He lives in the Land of Make Believe. He’s trained to lie. It’s his profession. He is a professional liar. Don’t forget that, either.” So, it’s a beautiful Sunday, Jusstawana has been outed, and I decide that today would be the perfect day to wear my bright red MAGA hat in blue, blue, blue Park Sloppe, that pinnacle of enlightenment infamous bastion of brainwashed SJWs and fossilized minds. I stroll down Fifth Avenue in Brooklyn towards the Barclay Center. The sidewalks are thronged. Lots of people are noticing my bright red hat; it’s impossible not to notice the people noticing my hat. I stop to read an informational poster at the corner of Fifth Ave. and 3rd Street, near the historic Old Stone House. The poster summarizes Brooklyn’s role in the American Revolution. I’m always amazed to discover how many people, especially New Yorkers, have never even heard about the Battle of Brooklyn. A jovial guy – clearly an inhabitant of Normal Land – stops and says “I’ve got to get one of those hats, but I’m. . .” I finish his sentence for him, “. . . afraid of being physically attacked?” I tell him that I was a little afraid when I first started wearing the hat, but to my surprise have had many positive reactions. We chat for a minute, he tells me he’s from Arizona, I tell him I’m from North Carolina. I tell him he would probably enjoy visiting the gift shops on the lower level of Trump Tower. He has an impatient child in tow, so we shake hands, and continue on our merry ways. At the Barclay Center I board a 4 train to Manhattan with no destination in mind; I’m in tourist mode. Decide to disembark at Grand Central and stroll around for a while. Am killing two birds with one stone: leisurely taking in the sights and glories of New York, and . . . introducing hundreds, maybe thousands of people to the Hat. I know that what I’m doing may seem quixotic to some people, but I also know that one person can make a difference. |

Day 28: Washington’s Birthday Monday, February 18, 2019 Happy (early) Birthday, George Washington! I know you were born on February 22nd but the country now unofficially celebrates “Presidents’ Day” on the third Monday of February to give federal “workers” a long holiday weekend. It’s a convoluted story, but your home state of Virginia, to its great credit, officially celebrates your birthday the entire month of February. I’ve been wearing my blue MAGA hat and red MAGA hat today in your honor . . . and to stick it to the gullible, brainwashed idiots who believed Jusstawana Smellitt’s lies. “Who?” you may ask. Trust me, George, you don’t want to know. Speaking of national holidays, I have an idea for two new national holidays to be celebrated simultaneously on June 14: “Donald J. Trump’s Birthday” and “National MAGA Hat Day.” |

Day 29: Park Sloppe, Libtards, Meltdowns Tuesday, February 19, 2019 Today is a blue MAGA hat day, in honor of the blue, blue, blue hive mind of Park Sloppe, home to some of the stupidest, most condescending, supercilious, ignorant, brainwashed Marxists and Maoists ever to have lived. It occurs to me that it would be an interesting experiment to see if I can replicate the epic snowflake meltdown I witnessed when I was riding the F train on Sunday, February 17. So, this evening I’m riding the F train again in the vicinity of Park Sloppe to see if my MAGA hat will exert its supernatural powers on any of the libtards and snowflakes riding the train with me. I’m hoping I’ll be able to trigger a TDS meltdown like the one this womon had when Trump was sworn in as 45th president on Jan. 20, 2017. Drat. No epic meltdowns on the train tonight. Maybe everyone was in shock upon learning that their favorite gay black oppressed martyr (who earns used to earn buckets of raaaayciss American dollars) is a lying, narcissistic, megalomaniacal sociopath. When I was on the train, however, I did notice out of the corners of my eyes lots of stares from people—most of whom were obviously college-indoctrinated Brownshirt Youths of America—trying to give me the Shaming Stare. But, see, here’s the thing: the Shaming Stare doesn’t work when the person you’re trying to shame is ignoring you. |

Day 30: Washington Compost Sued for $250 Million. MAGA! Wednesday, February 20, 2019 All over the news today is the $250 million lawsuit against the Washington Compost for sliming the Covington kids. Yes! This on the heels of more revelations about the JussTawana hoax and the way the “media” ran with it before doing any journalistic sleuthing. But, of course, everyone knows by now that the “media” today are propagandists, not journalists. The out-of-control leftwing media propagandists in this country must be confronted and punished every single time they lie. And, speaking of crimes, as long as there are “hate crime” laws on the books, then JussTawana Smellitt absolutely should be prosecuted for the elaborate hoax he organized specifically to slander Donald Trump’s supporters and to incite violence against Trump’s supporters. I am definitely wearing my bright red MAGA hat today. Apparently, I am not alone. Someone sent me Mykel Barthelemy’s latest vid last night. Check it out. She is fired up and tells it like it is! You go, girl! If you’re in or near New York City, there are three gift shops in Trump Tower that sell MAGA hats (open until 8pm). Also, many of the souvenir shops around town sell MAGA hats. I know the one at the corner of Broadway and Liberty in Lower Manhattan sells them. I imagine many of the shops around Times Square, Canal Street, and 34th Street near the Empire State Building also sell them. If you’ve been reading my blog, you’ll have learned that the chances of your being attacked are very slim; moreover, you’ll probably get some positive feedback. But do be prepared for shaming stares and glares, and maybe a few flipped birds. Just remember that shaming stares don’t work if you ignore them. You may feel a bit silly, and you will contract a noticeable case of “hat hair” but isn’t that a small sacrifice to make? At least you have shoes, unlike George Washington’s soldiers at Valley Forge in the winter of 1778. |

Day 31: Cognitive Dissonance = Bzzt! Thursday, February 21, 2019 I never realized just how many crazy people there are in New York City until I started wearing a MAGA hat. Like most New Yorkers, I’ve become inured to the dysfunctional and incompetent humans who are allowed to wander unchecked, particularly in the subway system. Like most New Yorkers, when I’m waiting for a train and the train arrives but one of the cars is empty, I automatically know it’s empty for a reason: because a crazy person who hasn’t bathed for several years has taken up temporary residence in the car. I pity the innocent tourists who board such a car because the stench can be overwhelming, literally nauseating. What a wonderful memory of New York. Thanks, American Civil Liberties Union for dumping insane people onto the streets. Thanks, NYC politicians and bureaucrats for not enforcing vagrancy laws. Thanks, mayor Warren de Bolshevik Wilhelm for hampering the police (and thanks to the idiots who voted for him). Thanks, Metropolitan Transit Authority for not doing your job. But I knew about the crazy people wandering the streets long before I started wearing a MAGA hat, and I knew that most of the voters in the city are registered Democrats. What I didn’t know is that a large percentage of the crazy people in New York City are female graduates of the Centers of Higher Indoctrination. While I was riding the F train last night (this is the train that goes through Park Sloppe on its way into Manhattan), just about every young woman (20 to 40-ish age bracket) who noticed my hat was visibly glaring at me. They were visibly full of anger. Why? Because they’ve been brainwashed by the feminazi indoctrinators in the Indoctrination Camps and by the feminazi indoctrinators in the media. They’ve been brainwashed from an early age to believe that men are inferior, stupid, bumbling, sadistic dopes. They’ve been taught that women are not just equal to men but are superior to men; that women are caring, intuitive, sensitive, and generally more intelligent and evolved than men. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying all women in New York are irrational, hyper-emotional dingbats, just a large percentage of the ones who’ve attended Centers of Higher Indoctrination. I personally know many, many extremely intelligent, thoughtful, rational, civilized, and creative women. And all of them are Republicans . . . or Independents. Anyway, my usual modus operandi while wearing my MAGA hat in the subway is to ignore the glares and shaming stares. Last night, though, I calmly met the stares without batting an eye. And, every single time the glarers quickly looked away. I think their brainwashed minds were making nano-second calculations and were short-circuiting because of the cognitive dissonance. Here’s what I think was happening in their minds: “Hmmm…men who wear MAGA hats are toothless, drooling, raycisss, gun-totin’ rednecks…everyone knows this…it’s what CNN, the New Yorker, NY Times, and Washington Post tell us…tv, movies, and advertisements tell us that men are idiots and brutes…we have been taught this…it must be true…but this guy wearing a MAGA hat is well-dressed, has a polite demeanor, and is reading The Unofficial Downton Abbey Cookbook.” Bzzttt. The sound of feminazi brains short-circuiting. I am not limiting my scorn just to feminazis, however. There are legions of male feminazis, i.e., brainwashed gelding males – some of whom last night were giving me the evil eye. Many more women, though. If anyone doubts what I am saying, let me present this example of liberal feminist lunacy: Trump engages in some typical locker room boy talk fourteen years ago (and, trust me; guys talk like that all the time, gay and straight) and the feminazis go ape-sh*t crazy. Bill Clinton fondles, gropes, and rapes his way through eight years in the White House, even going so far as to stick a cigar into an intern’s nether regions, then slurp the cigar and exclaim “mm, that tastes good” . . . which is child’s play compared to the rapes. Response from feminazis to Bill Clinton? Crickets. Response to Donald Trump? Rage. |

Day 32: JussTawana STILL Lying Friday, February 22, 2019 Hard to believe that JussTawana is still lying. Maybe he’s going to try to cop an insanity plea? I saw the press conference in Chicago yesterday. Police Superintendent Eddie Johnson seemed royally ticked off. If he was that ticked off maybe Jusstwanna is not going to skate, contrary to what some people are prognosticating. Who knows? I do know that he’s not skating in the Court of Public Opinion. Check out this vid posted on YouTube four days ago by someone named Blaire White. I’d never heard of her until last night, but she is one smart cookie . . . and funny (and has an interesting history): And isn’t it gratifying, bigly, to see that JusstaBrawley is losing his $125,000 per episode job at Fox? So, yesterday evening after work, I needed to run some errands in Manhattan. Took the (infamous) F train. Have given up trying to trigger epic meltdowns; all I’ve been getting lately are stares and glares. Ho hum. A beautiful day yesterday, highs in the 50s. A perfect evening for a long, meandering stroll on some of Manhattan’s most crowded sidewalks (for maximum red Hat exposure, of course). Lots of people are out and about enjoying the weather, and as usual I’m the only person wearing a MAGA hat. But—for what it’s worth—hundreds, maybe thousands of people see the Hat. I’m guessing most of those people have heard the news that Jusstwana is a lying piece of s**t. I wonder if the cognitive dissonance caused by Jusstawana’s hoax—coupled with a sighting of a MAGA hat—may jump-start a few unused brains in New York. Miracles can happen. |

Day 33: Malevolent Maher Saturday, February 23, 2019 While wearing my blue MAGA hat hither and yon in Manhattan, walking miles and miles on thronged sidewalks in today’s beautiful weather, I’m wondering what’s happening with the $250 million lawsuit filed by Nicholas Sandmann’s lawyers against The Washington Compost. I know that lawsuits take time to work themselves through the system, but I feel like a kid waiting for Christmas Day to arrive. I’ve also been wondering how large the claim for damages against CNN will be. Given the fact that CNN is vastly more influential than The Compost, I assume the claim for damages will be commensurately larger. I don’t know what a reasonable amount would be, but for the sake of argument let’s say 100 times larger than the claim against the Compost. So, $250 million x 100 = $25,000,000,000. $25 billion. Sounds about right, but probably unrealistic. Okay, let’s try 10 times larger: $250 million x 10 = 2,500,000,000. $2.5 billion. Hmm, that seems reasonable, given CNN’s vast influence. So, I’m going to predict that the claim against CNN will be in the neighborhood of $2 billion. Wishful thinking? Maybe. I’ve also been wondering how much the claim for damages against the vile hate-monger Bill Maher will be. Here’s what Maher said, verbatim, about Nicholas Sandmann on his HBO show Real Time with Bill Maher: “I don’t blame the kid, the smirking kid, I blame lead poisoning, and bad parenting. And, oh yeah, I blame that f**king kid. What a little prick. Smirkface! Like that’s not a dick move to stick your face in this elderly man’s [face].” “This smirking kid says he was just trying to defuse the situation. Really? Next time you get into a fight, try that.” “I do not spend a lot of time, I must tell you, around Catholic school children. But I do not get what Catholic priests see in these kids.” How much should Maher be sued for? Is there a number high enough? |

Day 34: Busker Meltdown – Buh Bye! Sunday, February 24, 2019 Decided to wear my incendiary red MAGA hat today while running errands in Manhattan. I’m riding the R train from Union Square to Lower Manhattan. Some people stare, as usual, but most ignore me. Fine. But, it’s New York; you never know when a crazy person is about to intrude into your personal space. A busker – guitarist, male, 30-ish – enters the train. The insane expression on his face gives him away. I instantly size him up: probable frequent pot intake + Trump Derangement Syndrome = cray cray. I’m sitting towards the end of the car; he walks to the center of the car and starts playing. I glance his way a couple of times to watch him play his guitar. Each time he’s staring right at me. Each time I smile. When the car stops, he walks past me while exiting the train and says ominously, “you have to expect people to make comments when you wear that hat.” I don’t take the bait; I merely look at him with a neutral expression. Then he escalates his attack and lobs a juvenile insult as he steps out of the car: “your hat is restricting blood to your brain!” How pathetic is that? When the subway doors close, I give him a friendly royal wave (keeping my wrist immobile as I slightly rotate my hand). His cray-cray expression becomes really extreme as he screams “that’s the Queen’s wave.” I smile, give him another royal wave, and then give him a thumbs up. As the train pulls out of the station, I get a glimpse of his extremely perplexed expression. It’s so much fun to play with libtards’ minds. They don’t know how to react when you don’t play their game . . . so, bzzt, their brains short-circuit. Later that day, on the 4 train in the vicinity of Union Square, I felt someone staring at me. I looked over and saw a Social Justice Warriorette trying to shame me by staring at me. I simply maintained a pleasant expression and calmly returned her stare until she turned away. But I continued to stare, which made her visibly uncomfortable. I could feel the synapses quietly misfiring in her brain. I doubt she was intelligent enough to realize that I was simply doing to her exactly what she had been doing to me. |

Day 35: Marx, Modern Art and MAGA Monday, February 25, 2019 How did we get to the point where a large percentage of the population of the United States is bat-sh*t crazy, where people melt down at the sight of a MAGA hat? I’m talking about the “liberals” / dhimmicRats / socialists / “progressives” / communists, of course. It would take a multi-volume set of very thick books to explain it all. One significant piece of the puzzle is the way the socialists / communists / Marxists / totalitarians / “progressives” have successfully infiltrated all levels of education, from kindergarten upward. The result is that a huge number of people in our country have been so thoroughly brainwashed that they are simply incapable of rational thought. They merely parrot what their indoctrinators have taught them. Ever notice how people nowadays always say, “I feel . . . blah blah blah” when trying to explain their opinions? They never say, “I think.” They say “I feel” because they don’t think, they don’t reason, they don’t engage in rational discourse. This is why some people lash out like demonic puppets whenever they encounter anyone who’s escaped from the hive mind of the Politically Correct Plantation. Another enormously significant piece of the puzzle that explains our country’s transition from a rational society to an irrational one is the way the art world changed so dramatically in the last century. The insanity and absence of rational thought in the art world helped to create the insanity and absence of rational thought in daily life. This has been a pet peeve of mine since the 1980s when I was studying art history at Chapel Hill. I was always the lone classroom contrarian who would raise his hand and ask the indoctrinator (I mean professor), “um, what is it?” In the following video, Paul Joseph Watson brilliantly explains the insanity of the art world: |

Day 36: “Progressives” = Nazis Tuesday, February 26, 2019 I do realize that I’m putting myself at risk when I wear a MAGA hat, especially in a deep blue city like New York. The threat of violence—as well as actual violence—is the only way the Left can achieve power and stay in power. The list of anti-Trump hate crimes continues to grow. Just this afternoon an 81-year-old man was attacked while shopping for groceries at a ShopRite supermarket in Somerset County, New Jersey because he was wearing a “Make America Great Again” hat. I just hope the police find the rat who did this and prosecute him to the full extent of the law, and then put the rat in a pillory. And I hope that everyone whose blood is boiling after hearing about this will go out and get himself a MAGA hat and wear it. On February 15th, in Falmouth, Massachusetts, an illegal alien from south of the border assaulted an American citizen because he was wearing a MAGA hat. Let that sink in. Six days ago, a conservative young man – Hayden Williams – was punched in the face by a violent leftist thug at California’s Temple of Liberal Lunacy and Fascism, sometimes known as “UC Berkeley.” A month ago, an obscure actor staged a hate crime in order to increase his fame and fortune, and to incite hatred towards Trump and his supporters. The list of attacks from violent left-wingers in this country continues to grow, and they remind me of Nazi Germany (spiritual home of leftists everywhere) when Hitler’s Brownshirts went on violent rampages. If you cluck your tongue but tell yourself that the United States of America could never, ever become a totalitarian police state, then you’ve got your head in the sand. We’ve been sliding toward totalitarianism for a century, and then the communist puppet Obama—aided and abetted by the Democrats and RINOs in Congress—put the descent into warp speed. The leftist intolerance, intimidation, and violence must stop. Now! I’m reminded of an adage that was popular in the 1960s and 70s: “If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.” |

Day 37: More Anti-MAGA Scum Wednesday, February 27, 2019 Woke up this morning—my thirty-seventh continuous day of wearing a MAGA hat in public—still livid about the assault on an 81-year-old man in Somerset County, New Jersey simply because he was wearing a MAGA hat. I usually debate each morning whether to wear my blue hat or red one. No debate at all this morning: I proudly donned my bright red MAGA hat to show my support for the legions of MAGA hat wearers who have been attacked by the leftwing totalitarian fascist Nazi brownshirt thugs who have been emboldened by Barry Soetoro and George Soros, both of whom should return immediately to Hell, whence they came. As usual, some people on the subway stared and glared. I am able to ignore them with aplomb, but am becoming increasingly provoked by these brainwashed twits who believe they are my intellectual and moral superior. One day I may tell them what I think (and hopefully I’ll have my spy cam turned on when it happens). Today I heard about yet another attack on a MAGA hat wearer, this one at a high school in Edmond, Oklahoma on Monday, February 25th. Hearing about the attack only strengthens my resolve to continue wearing a MAGA hat anywhere and everywhere until this epidemic of leftwing Nazi socialist Democrat totalitarian fascist violence has been contained and extinguished. In a nutshell, a high school kid who was wearing a MAGA hat (with permission) at Santa Fe High School in Edmond was assaulted by an older student. The parents of the attacked kid are pressing charges, as well they should. I think they should also sue the damned school. You won’t hear about this on any of the lying leftwing (“mainstream”) propaganda media outlets. Black-on-white crimes are always swept under the rug by the leftwing media propagandists. But, can you imagine the hysterical outrage from the media propagandists if an older white student had attacked a younger black student? Stop the presses! Screaming headlines for days. Here’s a complete account of the attack, as posted on Blue Lives Matter: https://defensemaven.io/bluelivesmatter/news/video-student-assaulted-for-wearing-maga-hat-trump-flag-for-school-fundraiser-LT_5TZwNO0ORDkACrO9LEw |

Day 38: Bums and de Bolshevik Thursday, February 28, 2019 Does anyone know of a good alternative to PayPal? As soon as I learned that they were even considering partnering with the disgustingly vile hate group known as the “Southern Poverty Law Center” (SPLC), I immediately decided to close my PayPal account. While I’m on the subject, can anyone recommend a good list of other companies that should be boycotted . . . and perhaps a list of sane, freedom-loving companies that should be patronized? People occasionally send such lists to me, but they always seem to get buried in the non-stop flow of email. It’s a beautiful blue MAGA hat day in New York, a bit nippy but beautiful . . . despite the burgeoning crapstorm created by Mayor Bill “Dumb-as-a-box-of-rocks” de Bolshevik and the other corrupt socialist-DemocRat politicians in New York. And the lemmings who keep voting for them. Bums everywhere, sleeping in the subways, sleeping on the sidewalks, using the subways as toilets. Moaning their way through the subway cars, repeating their bogus shticks like zombies, rattling their begging bowls (takeout coffee cups). One often sees the same ones staggering up and down the subway cars. I wonder how much money they rake in. I’ve also been wondering how long it would take for the city to slide back into another squalid mess like the one in the 1970s. Under Mayor de Bolshevik, it’s happening faster than even I thought it would. On the bright side, de Bolshevik’s reign of error will end next year. Also, New York is in better shape than it was in the 70s . . . but probably not for long given the city’s out-of-control spending and massive unfunded pension liabilities. |

Day 39: MAGA and the East Village, Part I Friday, March 1, 2019 Milo Yiannopoulos’s brilliant analysis of the JussTawana BrawleySmollett hoax—the best I’ve seen—was posted on Frontpage Mag today. It was also mentioned and linked on Ace of Spades HQ this morning, which is how I found the article. If you don’t visit Ace of Spades HQ morning, noon, and night, you’re missing one of the best political blogs out there. Forget The National Enquirer’s Drudge Report’s “shock polls,” rampaging airplane passengers, and incessant links to fake news propagandists. If you want the truth, and nothing but the truth, go to Ace. Last night as I was walking around the East Village wearing my bright red MAGA hat, a young woman let out an audible groan as she passed me. But it was a civilized groan of recognition tinged with a note of mild resignation, not a hateful groan. I laughed out loud, but I waited until she was out of earshot so she wouldn’t misunderstand me. I was laughing out of happiness because she had just restored my faith in humanity, a little bit, enough to make me happy. So, I tip my MAGA hat to that civilized young lady—and she was a lady—for lifting my spirits, for embodying the civilized America in which I grew up. Her behavior was like that of my childhood playmates in the 1950s. In my neighborhood, whenever my playmates’ arguments would escalate to a heated pitch, the worst thing that we could think to say was, “I’ll sue!” I was also happy for another reason: the Hat’s magical powers had apparently returned after being on hiatus for a couple of days, when all it had been doing was merely eliciting glares and boring stares. Something happening in the stars, perhaps? During my walkabout, a bicyclist who saw my hat yelled out “My God!” His reaction was so hilarious that I could barely contain my laughter until he had peddled off. I didn’t want the cyclist to think I was laughing at him; I was laughing at the absurd situation where someone freaks out because of a hat. At this point in my Maga hat-wearing odyssey, I’ve moved somewhat beyond mocking the unfortunate brainwashed innocents who react to my hat in such ways. Now I pity them more than anything else, and I wish that I could somehow help them free their minds from the chains of the Politically Correct Thought Police. After continuing my stroll, I soon discovered that it is apparently common for East Villagers to make their opinions audibly known, often in an uncivilized manner. Fine. I understand that they’re “just” a bunch of brainwashed pot-addled kids. I can handle rude comments. What I will not tolerate is the suppression of free speech. One young man—who happened to have dark skin—said very audibly as I passed by, “I don’t like that hat.” He was with a crowd of friends, and I know that individuals are emboldened when they’re in a group of like-minded people, so I did not respond and kept walking. In retrospect, I think I could have stopped and had a brief conversation because his tone was not threatening, but I was hungry and my energy level was low. A minute later, I passed through a pack of obviously stoned kids who had taken over the sidewalk and were dancing around like spastic electrons. One of them squawked, “fuck that hat” but I knew it was just the pot talking. After I passed by, I turned around to look at them—in a friendly way, mostly out of curiosity—and one of the guys shouted out “it wasn’t me.” I have a feeling that I could have completely defused the situation—not that it was all that bad to begin with—by going back and then suddenly dancing with them. I suspect they would have found that to be incredibly hilarious. If I hadn’t been so hungry, I would have done just that. The next time I go for a MAGA hat stroll in the East Village, I’ll be sure to down a hearty meal first. |

Day 40: A Nation Without Borders Is Not A Nation Saturday, March 2, 2019 A reader of my blog kindly sent some information (in a comment to my post yesterday) about the 81-year-old man in Somerset, New Jersey who was attacked on February 26 because he was wearing a MAGA hat. I’m reposting the information he sent, in case you didn’t see his comment: https://kfiam640.iheart.com/content/2019-03-01-teenager-charged-with-assault-after-attacking-81-year-old-wearing-maga-hat/ My reaction to the article was to wonder whether the 19-year-old thug who attacked the elderly American citizen was an illegal alien invader from another country, like the chain-migrating illegal alien invader who assaulted an American citizen in Falmouth, Massachusetts on February 15 because the American citizen was wearing a MAGA hat. It is time to start calling a spade a spade. The people who are coming to our country illegally are invaders. The politicians and bureaucrats—Democrats and Republicans—who have been allowing them to come here illegally are traitors and should be punished accordingly. The United States does not belong to the world. The United States belongs to the United States. We are a sovereign nation and I will not sit back and allow my country—MY country—to be destroyed. Thinking about these attacks against American citizens merely strengthens my resolve to wear a MAGA hat every single time I go out in public. Today I am wearing my extremely conspicuous red MAGA hat while running errands on this beautiful day in the Big Apple. One of my errands, by the way, is to take better photos of the “Defiant Girl” statue in front of the New York Stock Exchange, who has apparently become a loyal Trump supporter: |

Day 41: MAGA In Lower Manhattan Sunday, March 3, 2019 I wore my red MAGA hat while heading into Manhattan to possibly bid on a couple of landscapes I’ve had my eye on at an auction house I frequent. I wondered if the Hat had any adventures in store for me. More libtards vainly trying to shame me? More flipped birds? Ho hum. I’ve had enough of those for a lifetime. On the ferry, a young Hispanic-looking guy, around twenty I would guess, saw my hat and asked in a neutral tone, “what does your hat mean?” It was the first time anyone had posed that question. I replied, “I want our country to be civilized again, where people respect the rule of law.” Then I mischievously tossed out a small piece of bait: “And I want people to stop breaking our laws by coming here illegally.” He said, “it was great . . . in the 80s, wasn’t it?” Then he sat down next to me—I’ll call him Miguel—and he asked “what about the government?” I understood what he meant and replied, “Excellent point. The people I really blame are our politicians for creating such a screwed-up immigration system, and for not securing our borders.” I told him that I understand why so many people have been sneaking into our country; if I were in their shoes, I would do the same thing . . . but I don’t condone it. Then two other guys came over; presumably friends of his. One appeared to be Hispanic; I’ll call him Armando. The other guy was black. I’ll call him Will. And can we please stop using the term “black” when referring to people with brown skin, and “white” when referring to people with tan skin? It tells you nothing, it’s not accurate, and I’m tired of labeling people because of their skin color or ethnic heritage. He’s not black and I’m not white. He’s brown and I’m tan . . . although I do turn walnut brown in the summer. “Black” and “white” are one-dimensional, shallow terms that reduce people to caricatures and preconceived stereotypes. Neither do I call myself an English-American or an American of Scots-English descent. I’m sure the “black” guy doesn’t call himself an American of African descent. Maybe he calls himself an African-American. I don’t know. Maybe his ancestors have been here for several centuries. Whatever. Either you’re an American or you aren’t. Miguel asks, “What do you think about the wall?” I reply that we need it. He says it won’t work because people will climb it, tunnel under it, or bribe the guards. I ask him if he lives in a house with a door that locks. He says yes . . . but a wall won’t work. We exchange friendly banter for a while, then Will jumps in and says, “Sheesh, it’s Sunday . . . so political! People can agree to disagree.” I sympathize; Will has a peaceful demeanor. Miguel and I are creating ripples in the mellow pond of Will’s mind, so I gently bring our game of political ping pong to an end by saying “you’re absolutely right; people can agree to disagree.” Will is one thousand percent right, of course, but we are facing issues of crucial importance that are affecting the very existence of our country. We should talk about them; it is imperative that we talk about them. Then Armando speaks up—for the first time—and asks me if I’ve seen a movie called “Dredd.” I say, “no, is it playing now; should I see it?” All three guys look at me for a second like I’m from another planet. Armando says that one of the characters can climb walls 100 feet tall (or something like that). I roll my eyes and say, yeah, well, most people can’t climb walls that high. All three guys concede my point. Miguel changes the subject by pointing out that Obama deported more people than Trump has been deporting. I’m impressed. This guy is paying attention. I’m thinking to myself that these young men are better informed and certainly more civil than the libtards and white (I mean tan) millennials I’ve encountered while wearing my MAGA hat. We’ve disagreed on some things, but there hasn’t been any anger. As the ferry docks and people start herding themselves off the boat, Miguel asks if I’ll sell him my hat. U