Trump Derangement Syndrome - Orange man bad. Read the OP! (ᴛʜɪs ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴋɪᴡɪ ғᴀʀᴍs ʀᴇᴠɪᴇᴡs ɴᴏᴡ) 🗿🗿🗿🗿

Its a consequence of people in politics and business both employing the services of PR/marketing people straight out of SJW infested campuses to tell them what "the people" want, and also existing in the same general bubble of wealth and comfort and sanctimonious self importance as every professionally woke celeb/media idiot* in the west. Since these people are all they ever see and talk to they assume that the smuggest fringe of the 1% represents society as a whole or atleast a massive chunk of it enough to cow the rest of society into toeing the line, and thus pandering to them is seen as the perfect way to sell shit/get elected.

* who have also been inhaling what their PR/marketing managers have told them about how obsessed with far left demagoguery and identity extremism the young people totally are these days.
You're saying that people only claim to want it because the media tells them to? That's a possible explanation, it's just you'd think eventually someone would think "Hey, why are we saying we don't want America to exist anymore?"
 
You're saying that people only claim to want it because the media tells them to? That's a possible explanation, it's just you'd think eventually someone would think "Hey, why are we saying we don't want America to exist anymore?"
People have this autopilot thing where they decide their opinions based on their peer group. If someone wants to identify as a typical voter then their stance on any issue without a deep personal stake will be what society at large says the typical voter thinks. See the semi-famous Hare coffee study. Nobody likes dark roast, but when commercials advertise dark roast as “the best coffee” people will lie about their preferences in order not to be seen as having bad taste or being otherwise atypical.
 
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Wisconsin is about 87% white and 5% Asian pandering to black people in Wisconsin would be an absurd waste of money.

Democratic polticians seem to think everywhere outside of their gated communities looks like Detroit.
How did so many Asians end up there?

EDIT: For anyone wondering, they're overwhelmingly refugees, most of which are Hmong from the Vietnam era who sided with the US.
 
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Wisconsin is about 87% white and 5% Asian pandering to black people in Wisconsin would be an absurd waste of money.

Democratic polticians seem to think everywhere outside of their gated communities looks like Detroit.

Milwaukee is 40% black. That's got to be worth something to somebody. It looks like most all of black Wisconsin lives in Milwaukee.
 
After extensive research I have identified the main suspect of this mass disenfranchisement in the greater Wisconsin area alongside one of his victims...
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How does Mike "ReichsLuftfahrtMinisterium" Stoklasa keep getting away with it?
 
Yep. Hillary only lost because all black people in the midwest were banned from voting for her.
After doing a bit of digging, I found eyewitness testimony actually proving this correct.

Just as the people of Selma marched some five decades ago to defeat the evil that is white supremacy, I found myself marching to the polls in November of 2016. It was my right to vote. It was my duty to vote. For those who marched and died to have their voices heard, it was time for mine to be heard.

Despite the gains of our people over the past fifty years, the toxic tree that is white supremacy still had its roots planted in Milwaukee. And from its toxic roots grew poisonous mushrooms. They had red caps that said "Make America Great Again" and their spores filled the lungs of those whom could have once been considered decent people. Two of these spores stood in front of me as I waited in line to cast my vote for our first female president. She wasn't a woman of color, but the alternative was the Pied Piper of racism leading his racist rats to drown in the ocean of bigotry.

I finally saw the front door of the polls after an hour of standing and waiting. I remember thinking "Finally! It's going to be my turn and I'm going to do my part to ensure Obama's legacy lives on.

Little did I know this would be as close as I got to casting my vote. For without warning, the polls started swarming with panic. Terrified people of color ran for their lives and I could only assume the worst. Did some crazy white boy run in with a gun? It made sense because none of the white people standing in line were terrified. In fact, they almost seemed happy this was happening. This was especially true for the MAGA hats, whose smiles and eyes burned brighter than any cross in the south.

Little did I know the truth would be far more terrifying. As people of color bolted out the front door, they were followed by a ghastly creature. His skin was whiter than any Klan sheet that was present at a Donald Trump rally. His skin was translucent with a burning Confederate flag hovering over his heart.

It was the ghost of George Wallace.

I knew it was my duty to fight. I knew it was my duty to win. So I marched right up to the ghost of George Wallace and confronted him over his terrible deeds. I told him he would not stand in the way of our inevitable victory.

The ghost of George Wallace reached his hand back and what he did next would haunt me for the rest of my life. With the force of a thousand slave masters' whips, he slapped me and said "SHUT UP SHEEBOON! THE HEIR OF MY LEGACY SHALL SET THIS COUNTRY RIGHT AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU OR YOUR KIND CAN DO ABOUT IT!"

I was left with no choice. I ran for my life as well as my fellow people of color. As I turned to look back, I saw the poisonous mushrooms sprout next to their dead leader. They formed a barrier at the door ensuring that only the whitest of the white people could cast their votes. It was at that moment I came to the heart breaking realization that Dr. King was wrong. He wanted equality. He wanted to coexist with white people. He was Neville Chamberlain when we needed Winston Churchill. If I was to live in an America where I could raise my children without the fear of them succumbing to violence, I knew there was one thing I needed to do. I needed to rip these poisonous mushrooms out of the ground and salt the earth so they could never grow back.

So the next time some white person tries to tell you that there's no such thing as black voter suppression, you tell them my story. You tell them about the day the ghost of George Wallace showed up to the polls of Milwaukee.
 
After doing a bit of digging, I found eyewitness testimony actually proving this correct.

Just as the people of Selma marched some five decades ago to defeat the evil that is white supremacy, I found myself marching to the polls in November of 2016. It was my right to vote. It was my duty to vote. For those who marched and died to have their voices heard, it was time for mine to be heard.

Despite the gains of our people over the past fifty years, the toxic tree that is white supremacy still had its roots planted in Milwaukee. And from its toxic roots grew poisonous mushrooms. They had red caps that said "Make America Great Again" and their spores filled the lungs of those whom could have once been considered decent people. Two of these spores stood in front of me as I waited in line to cast my vote for our first female president. She wasn't a woman of color, but the alternative was the Pied Piper of racism leading his racist rats to drown in the ocean of bigotry.

I finally saw the front door of the polls after an hour of standing and waiting. I remember thinking "Finally! It's going to be my turn and I'm going to do my part to ensure Obama's legacy lives on.

Little did I know this would be as close as I got to casting my vote. For without warning, the polls started swarming with panic. Terrified people of color ran for their lives and I could only assume the worst. Did some crazy white boy run in with a gun? It made sense because none of the white people standing in line were terrified. In fact, they almost seemed happy this was happening. This was especially true for the MAGA hats, whose smiles and eyes burned brighter than any cross in the south.

Little did I know the truth would be far more terrifying. As people of color bolted out the front door, they were followed by a ghastly creature. His skin was whiter than any Klan sheet that was present at a Donald Trump rally. His skin was translucent with a burning Confederate flag hovering over his heart.

It was the ghost of George Wallace.

I knew it was my duty to fight. I knew it was my duty to win. So I marched right up to the ghost of George Wallace and confronted him over his terrible deeds. I told him he would not stand in the way of our inevitable victory.

The ghost of George Wallace reached his hand back and what he did next would haunt me for the rest of my life. With the force of a thousand slave masters' whips, he slapped me and said "SHUT UP SHEEBOON! THE HEIR OF MY LEGACY SHALL SET THIS COUNTRY RIGHT AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU OR YOUR KIND CAN DO ABOUT IT!"

I was left with no choice. I ran for my life as well as my fellow people of color. As I turned to look back, I saw the poisonous mushrooms sprout next to their dead leader. They formed a barrier at the door ensuring that only the whitest of the white people could cast their votes. It was at that moment I came to the heart breaking realization that Dr. King was wrong. He wanted equality. He wanted to coexist with white people. He was Neville Chamberlain when we needed Winston Churchill. If I was to live in an America where I could raise my children without the fear of them succumbing to violence, I knew there was one thing I needed to do. I needed to rip these poisonous mushrooms out of the ground and salt the earth so they could never grow back.

So the next time some white person tries to tell you that there's no such thing as black voter suppression, you tell them my story. You tell them about the day the ghost of George Wallace showed up to the polls of Milwaukee.
So, black people can't vote because they all have schizophrenia that manifests as hallucinations of dead politicians?
Makes sense.
 
After doing a bit of digging, I found eyewitness testimony actually proving this correct.

Just as the people of Selma marched some five decades ago to defeat the evil that is white supremacy, I found myself marching to the polls in November of 2016. It was my right to vote. It was my duty to vote. For those who marched and died to have their voices heard, it was time for mine to be heard.

Despite the gains of our people over the past fifty years, the toxic tree that is white supremacy still had its roots planted in Milwaukee. And from its toxic roots grew poisonous mushrooms. They had red caps that said "Make America Great Again" and their spores filled the lungs of those whom could have once been considered decent people. Two of these spores stood in front of me as I waited in line to cast my vote for our first female president. She wasn't a woman of color, but the alternative was the Pied Piper of racism leading his racist rats to drown in the ocean of bigotry.

I finally saw the front door of the polls after an hour of standing and waiting. I remember thinking "Finally! It's going to be my turn and I'm going to do my part to ensure Obama's legacy lives on.

Little did I know this would be as close as I got to casting my vote. For without warning, the polls started swarming with panic. Terrified people of color ran for their lives and I could only assume the worst. Did some crazy white boy run in with a gun? It made sense because none of the white people standing in line were terrified. In fact, they almost seemed happy this was happening. This was especially true for the MAGA hats, whose smiles and eyes burned brighter than any cross in the south.

Little did I know the truth would be far more terrifying. As people of color bolted out the front door, they were followed by a ghastly creature. His skin was whiter than any Klan sheet that was present at a Donald Trump rally. His skin was translucent with a burning Confederate flag hovering over his heart.

It was the ghost of George Wallace.

I knew it was my duty to fight. I knew it was my duty to win. So I marched right up to the ghost of George Wallace and confronted him over his terrible deeds. I told him he would not stand in the way of our inevitable victory.

The ghost of George Wallace reached his hand back and what he did next would haunt me for the rest of my life. With the force of a thousand slave masters' whips, he slapped me and said "SHUT UP SHEEBOON! THE HEIR OF MY LEGACY SHALL SET THIS COUNTRY RIGHT AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU OR YOUR KIND CAN DO ABOUT IT!"

I was left with no choice. I ran for my life as well as my fellow people of color. As I turned to look back, I saw the poisonous mushrooms sprout next to their dead leader. They formed a barrier at the door ensuring that only the whitest of the white people could cast their votes. It was at that moment I came to the heart breaking realization that Dr. King was wrong. He wanted equality. He wanted to coexist with white people. He was Neville Chamberlain when we needed Winston Churchill. If I was to live in an America where I could raise my children without the fear of them succumbing to violence, I knew there was one thing I needed to do. I needed to rip these poisonous mushrooms out of the ground and salt the earth so they could never grow back.

So the next time some white person tries to tell you that there's no such thing as black voter suppression, you tell them my story. You tell them about the day the ghost of George Wallace showed up to the polls of Milwaukee.
Right up until the moment the ghost appeared I thought this was a legit SJW piece. I mean the "their eyes burned brighter than any cross in the South" line is exactly the kind of edgy, over-dramatic drivel I'd expect in a BuzzFeed article.
 
This thread wasn't put up until it was practically confirmed he won. The election night thread should be a lot of fun next year, though.
I'm cautiously optimistic. Assuming Trump wins, it will be delicious to see Rachel Maddow cry again, and see that Cenk POS get mad and act superior. Not to mention all the other autists on TYT.... and MSNBC.... and CNN,,, and CBS... and ABC.... and....
 

An entire album of exceptional individuals!

TDS is a legit syndrome, no doubts. They are traumatized by imaginary and false stressors; and/or are lying about being victims to reap victim points. Extremely pathetic either way. But everyone else is doing it!

This must fall under societal sickness, like all of that raunchy idpol nonsense. Can this pass in some years? Is weak and pathetic, and delusional the new norm? Fuck.
 
TDS is a legit syndrome, no doubts. They are traumatized by imaginary and false stressors; and/or are lying about being victims to reap victim points. Extremely pathetic either way. But everyone else is doing it!

This must fall under societal sickness, like all of that raunchy idpol nonsense. Can this pass in some years? Is weak and pathetic, and delusional the new norm? Fuck.
That's some truly pathetic shit in there... It's why I often think these people are truly hopeless. They convince themselves that they are completely powerless and in utter, unbearable pain, that I doubt most of them would ever be capable of healing themselves of it. Convincing oneself that you are completely powerless, mentally disabled, and a victim of some horrible injustice must be one hell of a drug.

The lulz are there, for sure, but mostly I just smh about this stuff. Who would want the story of their life to read like that?
 
Who would want the story of their life to read like that?

They don't believe it will. They believe that history will remember people sharing their idpol tags as having achievements, and isn't that the important thing? That means that they have achieved it just by being the same arbitrary thing as someone else. That also absolves them of the obligation to do anything at all, themselves.

It's actually pretty typical for people to "believe" in things that validate what they were already going to do. It's just that, once upon a time, society was far less willing to indulge this particular set of excuses.
 
They don't believe it will. They believe that history will remember people sharing their idpol tags as having achievements, and isn't that the important thing? That means that they have achieved it just by being the same arbitrary thing as someone else. That also absolves them of the obligation to do anything at all, themselves.

It's actually pretty typical for people to "believe" in things that validate what they were already going to do. It's just that, once upon a time, society was far less willing to indulge this particular set of excuses.
Which makes it doubly sad, in a way. I mean, being able to look back on your life and feel pride and confidence in who you have been seems pretty fundamental to me. They seem to have given up on that, and have imaginary "others" who will look back on them for the respect they were never able to obtain for themselves. But what the fuck do I know? I'm posting on Kiwifarms ffs.
 
Which makes it doubly sad, in a way. I mean, being able to look back on your life and feel pride and confidence in who you have been seems pretty fundamental to me. They seem to have given up on that, and have imaginary "others" who will look back on them for the respect they were never able to obtain for themselves. But what the fuck do I know? I'm posting on Kiwifarms ffs.
My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?
 
They don't believe it will. They believe that history will remember people sharing their idpol tags as having achievements, and isn't that the important thing? That means that they have achieved it just by being the same arbitrary thing as someone else. That also absolves them of the obligation to do anything at all, themselves.

It's actually pretty typical for people to "believe" in things that validate what they were already going to do. It's just that, once upon a time, society was far less willing to indulge this particular set of excuses.
These people gave up before they ever tried and now they’re maintaining that by claiming the reason they eat chips and shitpost all day is because they’re being forced to by “oppression” like people they disagree with having jobs in some industry they care about half a world away. There is no helping these people because they don’t want to get better. They’re like someone who gripes about being poor but they’re poor because they don’t manage money well. The type that could find a cool million in a cardboard box on their doorstep and within a month they’d be in the same spot plus some fancy alcohol and gambling debt.
 
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