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LITTLE DISPLEASURES OF LIVING IN A CITY FULL OF ILLEGAL ALIEN FASHION MODELS
by H. Millard (c) 2002 - Posted 8/7/02
ORANGE COUNTY -- In the nation formerly known as the United States -- I took my six year old son to the National Night Out event held at a local grade school the other night.
As we arrived, I saw two cops wearing "Gang Unit shirts talking in a relaxed and friendly way with a Latino male fashion model [a local lefty politician says the city doesn't have gangs; it just has people who dress that way as a fashion statement]. This fashion model was very fashionable and had a shaved head, gang attire and a large gang tattoo on his arm. Other fashion models were swaggering around the parking lot. After all, this was their turf, not mine. I'm only a U.S. citizen who owns property in the area.
The grade school parking lot is directly across the street from a local mini slum where there was a recent fashion model shooting. This slum has been the scene of many other problems in the area over the years and is a non-compatible use with the rest of the neighborhood which would be fairly upscale if this slum were removed.
Instead of removing the slum, city officials are pressuring owners, via code enforcement, to paint the exteriors and do other cosmetic things. The city is also planning on spending about $ 80,000 to put in some new bushes and beautify the center median on the main slum street.
Meanwhile, the cancer grows within these functionally obsolete barracks style people warehouse slum buildings. All the feel-good cosmetic improvements are like covering up cancer with makeup. Reports are that as many as twelve illegal aliens are crowding together into one bedroom apartments in these slum buildings. Given the number of suspected illegal aliens on the streets, this number may be too low.
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A local pizza joint supplied free pizza for the Night Out event and some senior citizens wearing civilian cop uniforms were handing slices out. My six year old son waited patiently in line and was next up to get a slice when local "immigrants shoved their way to the front of the line, reached their hands over my son,s head and grabbed the pizza that was intended for him. My son got none. All the pizza was gone. My son learned a lesson: in post-American America you,re a sucker if you play by the rules.
My son had played by the rules and he lost out. He had been taught to be polite and wait his turn. He had been taught that society has rules and that one tries to obey them for the good of society as a whole.
One of those rules is that you don't cut into line. That's not a rule that these immigrants care about. After all, most of them are here because they weren't polite and they didn't wait in line. They broke our laws to sneak into this country in the first place while decent people are still waiting in lines to be allowed into the U.S. according to our laws. In post American-America these criminals are rewarded for their criminal behavior with free pizza, for one thing.
I went to one of the tables set up around the parking lot to pick up some literature. It was all printed in Spanish. No English. I took my son and left the parking lot. This event wasn't for us. We were second class people. We were citizens. The event was for illegal aliens. We walked past piles of soda cans and half-eaten pizzas thrown on the grass by the immigrants who also don't obey the rule about throwing trash in the provided receptacle. That's for suckers. That's for U. S. citizens.
I wondered if soon I would have to have my son sleep in the bathtub to protect him from stray bullets in the neighborhood.
This isn't the America I went into the Marines to protect when I was younger. Where did my country go?
