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Started By
Message
re: Mitch trying to take down Beauregard tonight?
Posted on 4/23/17 at 12:23 am to fightin tigers
Posted on 4/23/17 at 12:23 am to fightin tigers
What out of the way corner did they hide this one in?
-----------------------------------------------------------
Sat in a warehouse for a while and is now on Decatur St by the French Market.
Seriously, do you not see any difference between the Battle of Liberty Place monument and the "Maid of Orleans"?
-----------------------------------------------------------
Sat in a warehouse for a while and is now on Decatur St by the French Market.
Seriously, do you not see any difference between the Battle of Liberty Place monument and the "Maid of Orleans"?
1
Posted on 4/23/17 at 12:26 am to White Roach
quote:
Seriously, do you not see any difference between the Battle of Liberty Place monument and the "Maid of Orleans"?
Yes, one is an embarrassment to the city that was forced to be put back up because of a lawsuit. The other is actually beautiful.
Posted on 4/23/17 at 12:28 am to tgrbaitn08
quote:
tgrbaitn08
Reading is hard, amirite? Night.
Posted on 4/23/17 at 12:31 am to TJG210
Statues part 2:
The streets around the square ran red with streams of blood, like piss after Mardi Gras. In fact, piss was amongst the foul liquids that flowed that day. Severed limbs and multicolored heads lay around the statue. The General had been brutally efficient. The ones who had been so loud turned into whimpering messed under his long shadow, begging for mercy, pleading with a thing that had no pity.
Some tasted the swift, sweet death of his saber. Others weren't so lucky. The giant hand of the General closed around the helmet shaped purple-hair of one particularly loud woman. "Take it back!" She screamed, "I DON'T WANT THIS ANYMORE!" The General's grip tightened. Her eyes bugged out, then she began to bleed from her sockets, her ears and nose. Finally the top of her skull imploded from the mighty metal grip. She stopped screaming.
A cry arose from behind the General.
FASCIST SCUM!
He slowly turned, the viscera still dripping from the purple helmet of hair in his palm, to face the new addition.
Three black clad men with face masks stood defiantly, holding glass bottles filled with liquid, rags hanging from their tops. One held a lighter and all three lit their wicks, flames blossoming like spring flowers. In unison the hurled their Molotov cocktails at the metal menace and laughed as he erupted in a massive gout of flame, so hot they were forced to withdraw several yards.
The General was ablaze, his massive arms waved and slapped at the flames on his chest, but this only served to spread them to his hands. The masked group's cries of jubilance grew silent, however, when the General stopped his attempts to smother the fire, shrugged his shoulders, and advanced upon them, smoke and flames billowing off his surface.
They attempted to backpedal again but tripped backwards over a body, falling on their rumps as the sound of boots clanged closer on the concrete. They tried to scrabble back on their hands but they were too slow. A metal boot came down with such force on the chest of the first one it caved it in. He vomited a stream of blood and then lay still.
The other too just sat there in shocked silence as the burning figure reached down. His hands had grown red hot from the flames and as he palmed both of their faces their masks caught fire. Their hidden faces became infernos as their hair caught. Their skin began to sizzle and pop. The noises they made as they were lifted from the ground and struggled in abject agony were horrible.
Rising crescendos of unimaginable pain as their flesh was cooked by the brazen hands. Finally their squirming ceased and their bodies went limp, screaming no more. The General slammed their heads together and the baked brains spilled out like half boiled eggs. If he could smell the foul stench of burning excrement would have assailed his nostrils. He tossed them aside like unwanted toys and looked around to surveil what he had wrought.
Bodies burned and bled on the pavement. Sirens wailed from across town. No survivors were left to protest his presence now.
News crews tracked the carnage from nearby rooftops, and a chopper circled high in the air. A hand went up to stroke a metal beard, leaving a residue of soot and brains behind.
Then he began to walk.
~~~~~~~~~
The Mayor watched the news coverage in stunned silence as The General rampaged through town unimpeded. He'd given a press conference earlier, doing everything he knew he should.
He blamed the police for failing to stop it. He blamed the Republicans for not voting to do what he wanted. He blamed White people in general for racism. He'd done all he could. He knew his decision to tear down the historical statues had been the most important issue the city had ever faced, and this was proof.
He called to his driver to take him home. He hummed the first bars of "The Battle of New Orleans" to himself with a smug satisfaction on the bumpy trip until the car came to a lurching halt. Apparently the officers had barricaded the road for some sort of "safety issue." He cursed them under his breath as his driver made a detour.
Dodging the larger of the potholes, The Mayor was thrown left and right as his driver tried to navigate the roads without crashing. Again the Mayor thought of what issues the city faced and decided what needed to be done next was to change all the racist names of the streets. The names were obviously causing the roads to deteriorate.
Suddenly the car came to a screeching halt. A strange sound rang increasingly louder in the Mayor's ears. A rapid Ka-Klunk Ka-Klunk Ka-Klunk Ka-Klunk, getting closer and closer. Then a shattering of glass and a ripping of metal as the top of the car was ripped open. A blade began to saw around the Mayor's head, as if someone was trying to open a tin can with no can opener.
Suddenly metal hands appeared to rip back the canopy as the mayor stared up at what had befallen him. Seated atop a bronze horse was General Jackson with a glare in his eyes that made the Mayor's bowels loosen. His mouth opened, and a banshee wail erupted from his lips.
I SAVED THIS CITYYYYYYYY!
The metallic voice hung in the humid air, echoing off the ancient boulevard. A dark spot grew on the front of mayor's pants.
AND THIS IS HOW YOU HONOR MEEEEE?
YOU DISGRACE THIS PLACCCCCCCE!
General Jackson reached down and picked the mayor up by his collar. The dark spot now dripped and ran down his legs. He began to stammer.
"B-b-b-b-but you're a raci-"
He never finished the statement. A bronze glove backhanded his face, sending teeth skittering into the street. General Jackson's horse began to whinny, sounding like a hurricane wind. The mayor burbled and bled profusely from his swollen face. His left eye dangled from his socket and his lips were mangled from when they smashed his teeth.
He tried to speak again but was immediately stopped by another hammer-blow, this one shattering his remaining teeth and leaving his jaw hanging lopsided from his head. General Jackson began to pummel his fist into what remained of the Mayor's face, his body shuddering with every blow. Finally he tossed the mayor's body to the street where it landed in a gargantuan pothole, limbs askew at odd angles. His face was a mangled ruin of blood and bones.
General Jackson rode his horse over the corpse, the metal hooves crushing the mayor's tiny genitals in the process. As he rode away, a tinny rendition of "The Battle of New Orleans" whistled down the boulevard, and General Jackson laughed.
The streets around the square ran red with streams of blood, like piss after Mardi Gras. In fact, piss was amongst the foul liquids that flowed that day. Severed limbs and multicolored heads lay around the statue. The General had been brutally efficient. The ones who had been so loud turned into whimpering messed under his long shadow, begging for mercy, pleading with a thing that had no pity.
Some tasted the swift, sweet death of his saber. Others weren't so lucky. The giant hand of the General closed around the helmet shaped purple-hair of one particularly loud woman. "Take it back!" She screamed, "I DON'T WANT THIS ANYMORE!" The General's grip tightened. Her eyes bugged out, then she began to bleed from her sockets, her ears and nose. Finally the top of her skull imploded from the mighty metal grip. She stopped screaming.
A cry arose from behind the General.
FASCIST SCUM!
He slowly turned, the viscera still dripping from the purple helmet of hair in his palm, to face the new addition.
Three black clad men with face masks stood defiantly, holding glass bottles filled with liquid, rags hanging from their tops. One held a lighter and all three lit their wicks, flames blossoming like spring flowers. In unison the hurled their Molotov cocktails at the metal menace and laughed as he erupted in a massive gout of flame, so hot they were forced to withdraw several yards.
The General was ablaze, his massive arms waved and slapped at the flames on his chest, but this only served to spread them to his hands. The masked group's cries of jubilance grew silent, however, when the General stopped his attempts to smother the fire, shrugged his shoulders, and advanced upon them, smoke and flames billowing off his surface.
They attempted to backpedal again but tripped backwards over a body, falling on their rumps as the sound of boots clanged closer on the concrete. They tried to scrabble back on their hands but they were too slow. A metal boot came down with such force on the chest of the first one it caved it in. He vomited a stream of blood and then lay still.
The other too just sat there in shocked silence as the burning figure reached down. His hands had grown red hot from the flames and as he palmed both of their faces their masks caught fire. Their hidden faces became infernos as their hair caught. Their skin began to sizzle and pop. The noises they made as they were lifted from the ground and struggled in abject agony were horrible.
Rising crescendos of unimaginable pain as their flesh was cooked by the brazen hands. Finally their squirming ceased and their bodies went limp, screaming no more. The General slammed their heads together and the baked brains spilled out like half boiled eggs. If he could smell the foul stench of burning excrement would have assailed his nostrils. He tossed them aside like unwanted toys and looked around to surveil what he had wrought.
Bodies burned and bled on the pavement. Sirens wailed from across town. No survivors were left to protest his presence now.
News crews tracked the carnage from nearby rooftops, and a chopper circled high in the air. A hand went up to stroke a metal beard, leaving a residue of soot and brains behind.
Then he began to walk.
~~~~~~~~~
The Mayor watched the news coverage in stunned silence as The General rampaged through town unimpeded. He'd given a press conference earlier, doing everything he knew he should.
He blamed the police for failing to stop it. He blamed the Republicans for not voting to do what he wanted. He blamed White people in general for racism. He'd done all he could. He knew his decision to tear down the historical statues had been the most important issue the city had ever faced, and this was proof.
He called to his driver to take him home. He hummed the first bars of "The Battle of New Orleans" to himself with a smug satisfaction on the bumpy trip until the car came to a lurching halt. Apparently the officers had barricaded the road for some sort of "safety issue." He cursed them under his breath as his driver made a detour.
Dodging the larger of the potholes, The Mayor was thrown left and right as his driver tried to navigate the roads without crashing. Again the Mayor thought of what issues the city faced and decided what needed to be done next was to change all the racist names of the streets. The names were obviously causing the roads to deteriorate.
Suddenly the car came to a screeching halt. A strange sound rang increasingly louder in the Mayor's ears. A rapid Ka-Klunk Ka-Klunk Ka-Klunk Ka-Klunk, getting closer and closer. Then a shattering of glass and a ripping of metal as the top of the car was ripped open. A blade began to saw around the Mayor's head, as if someone was trying to open a tin can with no can opener.
Suddenly metal hands appeared to rip back the canopy as the mayor stared up at what had befallen him. Seated atop a bronze horse was General Jackson with a glare in his eyes that made the Mayor's bowels loosen. His mouth opened, and a banshee wail erupted from his lips.
I SAVED THIS CITYYYYYYYY!
The metallic voice hung in the humid air, echoing off the ancient boulevard. A dark spot grew on the front of mayor's pants.
AND THIS IS HOW YOU HONOR MEEEEE?
YOU DISGRACE THIS PLACCCCCCCE!
General Jackson reached down and picked the mayor up by his collar. The dark spot now dripped and ran down his legs. He began to stammer.
"B-b-b-b-but you're a raci-"
He never finished the statement. A bronze glove backhanded his face, sending teeth skittering into the street. General Jackson's horse began to whinny, sounding like a hurricane wind. The mayor burbled and bled profusely from his swollen face. His left eye dangled from his socket and his lips were mangled from when they smashed his teeth.
He tried to speak again but was immediately stopped by another hammer-blow, this one shattering his remaining teeth and leaving his jaw hanging lopsided from his head. General Jackson began to pummel his fist into what remained of the Mayor's face, his body shuddering with every blow. Finally he tossed the mayor's body to the street where it landed in a gargantuan pothole, limbs askew at odd angles. His face was a mangled ruin of blood and bones.
General Jackson rode his horse over the corpse, the metal hooves crushing the mayor's tiny genitals in the process. As he rode away, a tinny rendition of "The Battle of New Orleans" whistled down the boulevard, and General Jackson laughed.
Posted on 4/23/17 at 12:51 am to fr33manator
Largely forgotten, though, is that Beauregard also was an early proponent of equal rights in Louisiana, serving as the outspoken leader of the short-lived and ultimately failed unification movement.
The movement was a coalition made up of prominent white and black New Orleanians that called for integrated schools, public places and transportation and voting rights for black men, two years before Congress passed the Civil Rights Act of 1875 and nearly a century before the enactment of major civil rights legislation in the 20th century. Beauregard was the group's chairman.
"I am persuaded that the natural relation between the white and colored people is that of friendship," Beauregard said in an address published in July 1873 in papers including The New Orleans Republican and The Daily Picayune. "I am persuaded that their interests are identical; that their destinies in this state, where the two races are equally divided, are linked together; and that there is no prosperity for Louisiana which must not be the result of their cooperation.
"I am equally convinced that the evils anticipated by some men from the practical enforcement of equal rights are mostly imaginary, and that the relation of the races in the exercise of these rights will speedily adjust themselves to the satisfaction of all." -Beauregard
If some people would open a book and read we wouldn't have these problems
The movement was a coalition made up of prominent white and black New Orleanians that called for integrated schools, public places and transportation and voting rights for black men, two years before Congress passed the Civil Rights Act of 1875 and nearly a century before the enactment of major civil rights legislation in the 20th century. Beauregard was the group's chairman.
"I am persuaded that the natural relation between the white and colored people is that of friendship," Beauregard said in an address published in July 1873 in papers including The New Orleans Republican and The Daily Picayune. "I am persuaded that their interests are identical; that their destinies in this state, where the two races are equally divided, are linked together; and that there is no prosperity for Louisiana which must not be the result of their cooperation.
"I am equally convinced that the evils anticipated by some men from the practical enforcement of equal rights are mostly imaginary, and that the relation of the races in the exercise of these rights will speedily adjust themselves to the satisfaction of all." -Beauregard
If some people would open a book and read we wouldn't have these problems
This post was edited on 4/23/17 at 12:53 am
Posted on 4/23/17 at 1:12 am to TJG210
I'd take pre-Katrina Nagin over Mitch anyday.
Posted on 4/23/17 at 1:14 am to fightin tigers
quote:
Realize you are defending statues that have no bearing on your day to day life.
It's part of the historical fabric of the city I grew up in. Should we start shredding history books because some folks may not like the contents?
Posted on 4/23/17 at 1:21 am to TJG210
I love how people think it's Mitch's fault that so much energy has to be spent on these damn statues. He could take down other statues and it wouldn't even make Section A of the Times Picayune.
But these are confederate statues. And ppl don't realize that their histrionics over them do nothing but affirm Mitch's view as to why they need to be taken down.
What a weird thing to melt over.
One thing I know is that anyone crying about a damn statue forever forfeits his/her right to make fun of a SJW.
And trust me I'll enjoy every downvote I get:)
But these are confederate statues. And ppl don't realize that their histrionics over them do nothing but affirm Mitch's view as to why they need to be taken down.
What a weird thing to melt over.
One thing I know is that anyone crying about a damn statue forever forfeits his/her right to make fun of a SJW.
And trust me I'll enjoy every downvote I get:)
This post was edited on 4/23/17 at 1:26 am
Posted on 4/23/17 at 1:39 am to Cold Drink
quote:
One thing I know is that anyone crying about a damn statue forever forfeits his/her right to make fun of a SJW.
Why should the majority of society cater to the wants of a handful of idiots with too much time on their hands? Now that they've gotten their way with this, they're going to kick and scream over other perceived slights? The folks wanting the statues down are nothing but petulant children and should be treated as such. Maybe they should just leave if they're that offended.
Posted on 4/23/17 at 2:02 am to Cold Drink
quote:
love how people think it's Mitch's fault that so much energy has to be spent on these damn statues. He could take down other statues and it wouldn't even make Section A of the Times Picayune.
The Advocate has given this issue significant coverage. The T-P is so out of the NOLA loop these days, they're not even worth any further mention.
quote:
But these are confederate statues. And ppl don't realize that their histrionics over them do nothing but affirm Mitch's view as to why they need to be taken down.
What a weird thing to melt over.
You couldn't be more wrong if you tried. Many of us are just laughing at the obvious grandstanding of Mitch doing this as merely a ploy to curry political favor and to take the spotlight off of the many issues that have plagued the city and his administration...and an incredibly ignorant populace that fails to see through it. A vast majority of these simpletons had absolutely no concern about the statues until the horrible events of June 17, 2015. When Dylan Roof committed his atrocities, suddenly the perpetually outraged used him as a lightning rod. "He's the reason that these statues must go. Harumph, harumph, harumph."
I mean...NOLA's police and firemen are woefully understaffed, underpaid and underappreciated...NOLA's roads largely look like they belong in Aleppo...the city continues to lose jobs and tax revenue, placing an even tougher burden on others...and crime is at the point where only Chicago makes NOLA look safe...but but but, those racist statues, goddamit.
Look, I've heard some say that the statues should be taken down and put in a museum or memorial park where they can be displayed and people can discuss their history. On the surface, that idea has considerable merit...but once again, the perpetually outraged come into play. Don't think for even a moment that they wouldn't target anything like that next. They're just like children or dogs...they'll see how far they can push things before you finally say, ENOUGH. After that, they'll sit down, make a pouty face, then wait a little while before trying again.
quote:
One thing I know is that anyone crying about a damn statue forever forfeits his/her right to make fun of a SJW.
One thing that I know...you don't have a say in whom I choose to poke fun of or when. Sorry.
This post was edited on 4/23/17 at 3:31 am
Posted on 4/23/17 at 3:31 am to TJG210
quote:
Thats fair, but to take stuff down for no other reason than a tiny percentage of folks are somehow bothered is absurd. Where in the hell does it end?
When the plantations are burned down unfortunately.
Posted on 4/23/17 at 3:31 am to EastBankTiger
Memorial candles on Jefferson Davis tonight...tomorrow morning could get ugly.
Posted on 4/23/17 at 3:44 am to Nado Jenkins83
quote:Some folks do not know what a work night is.
Always on a work night. So racist
Posted on 4/23/17 at 5:14 am to TJG210
This whole fiasco of taking them down is mostly an empowerment play. The optics of removal signifies power and control over people of opposing viewpoints.
I would put the lives of just about any american, past or present, up against the life of Lee. Few could rise to that comparison.
I would put the lives of just about any american, past or present, up against the life of Lee. Few could rise to that comparison.
Posted on 4/23/17 at 5:35 am to Dont_Call_Me_RAY
quote:
I would put the lives of just about any american, past or present, up against the life of Lee. Few could rise to that comparison.
The US Navy held him in high regard. They named one of their first nuclear submarines after him. USS Robert E. Lee
Posted on 4/23/17 at 5:58 am to TJG210
just like an incompetent liberal to take so long getting it done
Yippee! Let's give these sorts of assholes more power! That'll fix everything!
Yippee! Let's give these sorts of assholes more power! That'll fix everything!
Posted on 4/23/17 at 6:14 am to TJG210
Hey, while we're at it let's tear down Café Maspero. It used to be the slave market, human beings were bought and sold there, it is a monument to slavery. Then tear half the French Quarter down, those buildings were built with slave labor and housed slaves. Erase all of this history, tear it all down in an effort to appease dimwits and SJWs. Only then will the crimes magically cease, the streets magically fix themselves, and tax revenue will increase.
This post was edited on 4/23/17 at 6:16 am
Posted on 4/23/17 at 6:18 am to mofungoo
Isn't the Lee statue the Civil War second place trophy?
Posted on 4/23/17 at 6:25 am to TJG210
I don't care if they take them down, as long as they don't use my tax dollars (which of course is going to happen. Go to hell Mitch you no good lying POS)
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