Law and Order, Current Year Unit

You can almost hear the Law and Order clang when reading the FBI report on their take-down of a white prison gang no one has heard of outside of Georgia:

SAVANNAH, GA: More than 40 associates of the notorious Ghost Face Gangsters criminal street gang have been indicted on federal charges related to drug trafficking and firearms possession throughout eastern Georgia and beyond.

A 93-page, 83-count federal grand jury indictment unsealed Nov. 16 in U.S. District Court in Savannah lists the charges against 43 men and women for a multitude of offenses involving trafficking methamphetamine, cocaine and heroin, announced Bobby L. Christine, U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of Georgia. Federal, state and local agencies cooperated in the investigation dubbed Operation Vanilla Gorilla.

The indictment alleges that the narcotics-trafficking conspiracy began as early as 2015 and continued until the present, operating in Bryan, Chatham, Effingham, Emmanuel, Evans, and Tattnall Counties, in the Southern District of Georgia, and elsewhere. Members of the conspiracy associated with the Ghost Face Gangsters, a violent, white supremacist street gang operated largely from inside prisons, and with other criminal street gangs to aid in the distribution of controlled substances, for protection, and to promote a climate of fear.

Operation Vanilla Gorilla represents one of the largest takedowns of Ghost Face Gangsters associates to date, and follows the March 2018 arrests of 23 gang members in the Northern District of Georgia on federal charges, and multiple arrests in October 2018 on state charges in Spalding County, Ga.

Charges against the defendants in Operation Vanilla Gorilla include:

• 25 counts alleging the possession of controlled substances with intent to distribute;

• 18 counts alleging the unlawful distribution of controlled substances; 

• 25 counts alleging prohibited persons (drug users and/or felons) in possession of firearms and/or ammunition; 

• One count alleging the unlawful possession of a prohibited weapon – a sawed-off rifle; 

• One count alleging the possession of a firearm with an obliterated serial number; 

• 10 counts alleging the possession of controlled substances, including methamphetamine, heroin, crack cocaine, marijuana, and prescription pills; and, 

• 2 counts alleging the possession of counterfeit currency.

This sounds like a slow weekend for Detroit's last remaining honest cops.

But these are "white supremacists" so...



Not that there's anything wrong with arresting drug dealers.
Jeff Sessions re-focused the Justice Department on traditional law and order and announced indictments against California's Mexican Mafia last May, and went after MS-13 in June.
I suspect and fear we'll miss that man.

...

He stands on the corner addressing the cars that speed or creep by, oblivious to him. When traffic stops at the light he singles out a motorist whom he then appeals to directly, taking on a familiar air, as if speaking to an acquaintance, smiling. Most don't see him, some give him a moment's bored glance. None seem find him as alarming as his appearance should merit, long unwashed and transmitting the incoherent, insect energy of the manic; as the car moves on he effortlessly goes from intimate to stage manner of speech, back to engaging the multitude.
A crumpled cardboard sign lies at his feet, something is scrawled on it. Occasionally he turns about, addressing a pedestrian; none acknowledge him. His ranting grows more impassioned, his gestures grander, the longer you watch him. He pauses occasionally for effect, in a professorial manner stroking a beard that looks as if it's made of cigar ash, with his other hand a fist pressed against his hip and pulling back an overcoat bearing the satiny sheen of of caked-on dirt; sometimes he nods with pursed lips, as if to punctuate some earnest and frank aphorism; he sighs as if having unloaded a weighty truth.

You can't help yourself; you move in closer to try to catch what he's saying. Bits of it come through the crashing, rising and falling sound waves of traffic and the continual hum of everything else: "...representation; representation not of reality--no! Representation of representation..." he repeatedly reaches a climax of excited declamation, then falls back to a quiet, musing tone, gradually ascending until reaching the next peak, against which the flood of his thoughts spends itself like a crashing wave, and back again, on and on, important-sounding and nonsensical: "...closed to the real; not an alternative, no; a refutation..." Everything is so very important, so vital, so much the release of concentrated and long restrained energy that you think at any moment he will simply blast off from his feet, whistling and spiraling in a failed arc like an errant firework, to smash himself against one of the buildings nearby.

He sees you watching him; his eyes somehow grow even more intense; he is delighted, enlivened anew, as he addresses you directly. You are across the broad and busy boulevard from him, but, unnerved, you find yourself stepping back slightly, alarmed and repulsed but more curious than ever.
He breaks into a chant. He is increasingly agitated now, from all the way across the street you can see that he is trembling. You can't hear him, the wind-noise of the traffic seems to be coming out of his mouth as he repeats a single word over and over. Pedestrians are starting to notice him now, people are watching him warily as they hurry past behind him, cutting him a wider swath. He is leaning back, as if to give his words a higher trajectory to carry them farther, leaning back dangerously, deliriously, until finally he falls to the ground, and your stomach contracts in response to the crack of his head against the pavement.

Now a few people have stopped; most are merely staring; one man is kneeling near the fallen man. You move toward him reactively, without thought, stepping off the curb; as your foot lands in the street it somehow makes the sound of a foghorn; how odd, you think in the fraction of a second within which this occurs. But the sound is not coming from the ground, it's coming from the side; still held within this clear, surreal pixel of a moment, you turn to face the noise.

The bus is so large, so impossible, you think that you are hallucinating; because if it is that near, coming that fast, it can only mean...
There is a flash of white, followed by a freeze-frame snapshot, the photo-finish produced by billions of synapses in unison sounding their last alarm, of what you know is your final glimpse of the world: the driver's mouth in a little o, obscured behind the sunlight reflecting off of the big, flat windshield, and the destination sign above it. In this boundless split-second of final consciousness, only vaguely aware that you're tumbling headlong in space, you realize the word over the windshield is familiar, and another realizaton follows, as now you find you're reading the lips of the street corner lunatic after the fact, because this is the word he was repeating; it's not possible, it simply cannot be, but there it is in black and white, printed on the brow of the bus that is bearing down on you:
UNTETHERED

Absolute Weekend Recap

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Pozzland Dispatch, 11/19/18: Patriots v Hatriots

The pro-Trump group Patriot Prayer (routinely described as "far right" but somehow eluding the "hate group" distinction by the Southern Poverty Law Center) emerged from the street brawling days of the 2016 presidential campaign. Its founder says he started the group when he saw Trump supporters attacked on the street.

Its sole purpose seems to be to troll Seattle and, mostly, Portland (from across the Columbia in Vancouver) by organizing "free speech" demonstrations to elicit violent responses from the left, and has been doing this regularly since early 2017, with at least eight successful provocations by my quick count, with their most successful, measuring by trouble caused, the June riot of this year when a mob of antifa and the like attacked the group after it left a rally across from City Hall and the optics went global.

An August rally by about a hundred of them drew several hundred aggressive counter-protesters, who were held in check only by a massive police presence. The city is looking for ways out, but the city council earlier this week voted down a proposed ordinance targeting Patriot Prayer that would have limited street demonstrations. The progressives on the council and their supporters in the streets don't trust the law won't be applied to them as well--and the latter are having way too much fun.

Within days another scheduled Patriot demonstration punctuated the city's failed effort. "Him Too" was the cause--advocating on behalf of men falsely accused of sexual assault. It proved suitably provocative, and the counter-demonstrations naturally formed around Me Too.

Hours before the rally leftists gave speeches in an adjacent park.



Flyers posted about town purported to reveal some Patriot Prayer members as sexual abusers:

As the hour approached more and more lefties filled the streets, but no sign of a right wing presence. At one point a lone young man with an American flag marched down the street dividing a knot of sneering antifa and police barricading the park.

Moments later a young man in black with a bandanna over his face emerged from the antifa lines and, literally pointing-and-sputtering, began shouting "that's Andy Ngo! He's a fascist rape apologist! That's Andy Ngo! He's a..."

Ngo is a Portland State graduate and writer for Quillette who's despised by local antifa for, among other things, organizing a talk by James Damore of the Google Memo fame at the school and arguing against the leftist canon from a libertarian perspective.

Later I saw him in Chapman square, the small park block from which antifa was basing its operations. Antifa surrounded and harassed him, with one older member leaning in doing the I'm-a-tough-guy-smell-my-breath routine, threatening and calling him a "coward".

A large group of #antifa protesters encircled me. After I am pushed away, a masked woman sprays my camera equipment & myself w/wet silly string. They then play music & laugh. I want to file a harassment report with @PortlandPolice but the assailant's identity is unknown. pic.twitter.com/U0EWZcw8lF

— Andy C. Ngo (@MrAndyNgo) November 18, 2018

(That's me in the green and white jacket behind antifa messing with my dead phone).

Minutes before the start of the rally there were only a few dozen supporters in the park--cordoned off by metal barricades all around except for a single entry-exit point at one corner. I went through after a brief inspection that consisted of opening my jacket.A few dozen or so milled about the mini-amphitheater in the center of the park. Four or five cops swept through at one point and singled out one guy, then another for questioning. A Patriot leader made excuses for the turnout and no-show speakers who were "stuck in traffic"; the event was a bust.

It didn't matter. There might not have been fifty right-wingers total, and few of them geared up for battle as in past demonstrations. Meanwhile across the street and all around them the left had amassed two or three hundred, a high proportion battle-clad.

At the end of the Patriot rally the typical scenario unfolded, with antifa descending on vulnerable smaller groups trying to get home. I trailed one group of maybe ten Patriots being stalked by hundreds of antifa.

Here Patriot strongman Tiny Toese is almost completely alone on the street trailed by antifa:



Antifa has women. I'm struck by how often the figure wrapped up like a black mummy emits the screech of the post-adolescent female.
This contingent of black-clad co-eds went about in black and yellow (I think the common black-and-yellow worn by antifa is designed to confuse them with cops, who wear black and yellow too--whatever the case, it gets confusing) with a "Fuck Proud Boys" sign and are typical:



As often as not you'll see some 90-pound girl up in the front of the ranks relishing the feeling of power of standing down the cops. And they still reserve their fiercest ire for police.

But nobody seems to notice or care the Patriot rally was a flop. Had it been allowed to occur without attention this whole cycle might have stopped right there. Whatever the case, the Patriots seem to be running out of steam, whereas the left here is still itching for a fight. They say they want to be rid of Patriot Prayer and "hate", but I think they doth counter-protest too much. And too enthusiastically.

Mind the Gapped

The nation is so cowed by political correctness controversy isn't what it used to be.
When I heard a city councilman somewhere had used the phrase "master race" my morbid self rose to the clickbait, expecting to learn some poor soul went off-matrix and starting ranting about race and all that entails.

But no, it turns out "master race" is a phrase, like "nigger", that not only offends when used in earnest, it can't be uttered in context, and certainly not in jest.
Political correctness expanded beyond barring the (ever growing realm of) offensive to things that remind one of the offensive at some point. Now we can't even be trusted with our own language, uttering child-like constructs such as "the N-word". That this is the ineffable name of our time, like Yahweh, shows you who sits atop the hierarchy of grievance that is our quasi-religious order now.

Turns out the controversy was over a councilman making a joke about the concept of "master race" in front of a black woman, with whom he actually shared an affinity

 “I don’t want you to think I am picking on you because we are part of the master race,” Klemp told Penelton. “You have a gap in your teeth. We are part of the master race. Don’t you forget that.”
Klemp, chairman of the three-member commission, also has a gap in his teeth. Fellow commissioners Robert Holland and Doug Smith have also called for Klemp to leave.

We in the gap-toothed community were not consulted.

Portland Report

This is local professional woman of color Alyssa Pariah speaking in downtown Portland today at a demonstration opposing a scheduled "#HimToo" rally in support of men falsely accused of sexual assault.

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Pozztown Dispatch

Earlier this week Portland voted down an ordinance restricting public demonstrations. The city has been the scene for serial warfare between Vancouver, Washington based (just over the river) Proud Boys affiliate Patriot Prayer, and antifa. Patriot Prayer stages a demonstration for a provocative (to the pozzed--"free speech" being one) cause and antifa show up--in increasingly organized and aggressive fashion.
The economic cost and embarrassment for the city has been substantial. I suspect somewhere a cop has got a new boat with all the overtime, another one is adding on to the house...
I don't blame them. It's thankless work.

The police chief offered the bill and the mayor supported it, in hopes of being rid of the Patriots.

The same left that turns up attempting to physically drive them out of town opposed the ordinance thinking, sensibly, that the same rule would then be turned upon them. It is notable the city wasn't looking to limit protests when it was just the locals throwing a tantrum over Trump's election and breaking stuff.

So, wasting no time, combatants announce it's on, for tomorrow:

Rival protests are planned Saturday in downtown Portland, which could draw several hundred people — and potential conflict — to a pair of parks near City Hall.

An offshoot of the right-wing group Patriot Prayer scheduled a #HimToo rally and their left-wing opponents plan to hold counter demonstrations.

The demonstrations once again provide an opportunity for rival political factions to confront each other in the center of the city, in this case only days after a failed attempt by Mayor Ted Wheeler to restrict violent protests that have become a fixture in Portland.

I'll try to be on hand and livestream it at my YouTube channel.