Zohran Mamdani at the Resist Fascism Rally, New York, October 2024
Source: Bingjiefu He
The Week’s Most Killer Croc, Hickory Dickory Dock, and Anti-Jewish Vegetarian Rock Headlines
MESSING IN ACTION
With the early success of Zohran Mamdani—“a 100% Communist Lunatic,” in the view of Donald Trump—in the race to be New York’s mayor, worried Wolves of Wall Street are warning the city is in for a “hot commie summer.”
A Muslim of Indian heritage, Mamdani was born in Uganda, a country 1970s dictator Idi Amin famously kicked all the Indians out of as they were totally dominating commerce at the expense of native blacks—with the inevitable result being the economy collapsed. Amongst Mamdani’s great, Amin-beating financial ideas for New York, he aims to start running state-owned grocery stores from City Hall; revenge for Idi stealing the family corner shop in Kampala all those years ago.
Another foolproof plan for destroying New York’s finances is to chase all the Jews away. As New York now appears to consist of 1 percent billionaire Jews, and 99 percent illegal immigrant dregs of the Earth who rape dead bodies on subway trains, this will not do wonders for the Big Bagel’s tax base.
As a former rapper going under the stage name Mr. Cardamom, in one 2017 song Zohran praised a group known as “The Holy Land Five,” convicted of supporting terrorism by donating $12m to Hamas. Deeply alarmed, New York-based Jewish actress Debra Messing, of Will & Grace fame, accused Mamdani of having “celebrated 9/11” back in 2001—at which point Mamdani was only 9 years old. N.Y. Muslims quickly protested that this was an outrageous slur, arguing that, aged 9, he would have been far too immature to have knowingly done any such thing.
Fun fact: The Prophet Muhammad’s favorite wife, Aisha, was 9 years old when he first had sex with her. Come on, make up your mind about 9-year-olds, Muslims, which one is it?
Rumors Mamdani plans to seize the city’s 7-Eleven stores and forcibly rename them all 9-Eleven stores instead remain as yet unsubstantiated by reliable sources like Debra Messing.
CRYING ABOUT WOLF
There are many ways to crash an economy besides nationalizing grocery stores. Bursting into tears is a new one currently being pioneered by the U.K.’s Chancellor of the Exchequer, a big soppy girl named Rachel Reeves. Rachel dissolved into sad saline public waterworks in the House of Commons this week over the complete and total mess she has made of the nation’s balance sheets, spooking markets and causing a crash in the pound.
“When Peter Pan tells you to grow the fuck up, you know you really must have a problem.”
Western nations used to have Iron Chancellors like Bismarck, not Jelly ones like Reeves. Such weakness all begins in childhood: A toddlers’ London stage puppet production of the classic nursery rhyme “Hickory Dickory Dock” has now gained an official trigger warning as it contains a “scene with some tension where a cat chases a mouse.” These days, Stop the Pigeon would be X-rated.
This follows on from another such U.K. stage show, a Chichester production of The Three Little Pigs, where audiences were warned of “a passing reference to Father Pig being gobbled by the Big Bad Wolf,” although to be fair this may just have been aimed at avoiding offending the exaggerated dietary sensibilities of local Muslims.
One Big Bad British Wolf not even a tiny tot would have been afraid of was an alleged werewolf newly photographed lurking in a small woodland area near Bridlington. Describing the extremely nonfrightening image, photographer and paranormalist Philip Kinsella explained that “People expect a werewolf to look like something from the movies—snarling and furry—but sometimes they appear more human-like.” The reason for this seems to be because what Kinsella had actually photographed was in fact a human, described by skeptics as “a man in a [parka hood] jacket with white mittens.”
A werewolf so gay it has to wear mittens wouldn’t even be enough to scare Morris Mitchener, the big Rachel Reeves-like crybaby who started the whole trend for nursery-age trigger warnings in the first place back in 1996, when the then 3-year-old spent 45 minutes in a theater in Leeds hiding under his seat screaming, “Get me out!”—so brain-warpingly disturbed was he by the sight of a man wearing a bright green crocodile costume in a production of Peter Pan.
Morris’ parents threatened to sue the theater for causing their child life-altering “stress and trauma,” leading to a dismissive response from cast and crew. When Peter Pan tells you to grow the fuck up, you know you really must have a problem.
CROCODILE FEARS
Much fonder of scary crocodile-like creatures is Donald Trump, who has unveiled an ultra-high-security jail for illegal immigrants set in Florida swamplands and surrounded by alligators, on the sole grounds he could then stand in front of the world’s media and call it “Alligator Alcatraz.”
The MAGA prison is inspired by the harsh mega-prisons of Trump’s good friend President Nayib Bukele over in El Salvador, where thousands of violent gang members have been locked up, 156 to a cell, in conditions best described as both “unpleasant” and “exactly what they deserve.”
A catwalk show critical of Bukele’s regime has just been staged at Paris Fashion Week 2025, shaven-headed fashion criminals dressed as El Salvadorean inmates marching down the runway, then falling to their knees in terrified subjection. In response, an offended Bukele promised to ship all his domestic murderers, terrorists, and uncontrollable narco-scum out to live in France, ASAP. Too late, the Algerians have already beaten him to it.
At Alligator Alcatraz, conditions may be even worse. Trump justified his employment of “cops in the form of alligators” by saying that, being poor dumb animals, they were willing to work for free—as, indeed, are many illegal immigrants, once successfully enslaved by people-smuggling gangs.
Alongside him, Trump’s Homeland Security Chief (and “unbelievable horse-person”) Kristi Noem spoke of how the jail was designed to hold Arkham Asylum-style “deranged individuals” so incredibly insane some of them were outright cannibals—and not even ordinary, good old-fashioned, honest American cannibals like Jeffrey Dahmer, but hideous alien Hispanic auto-cannibals, ones so voracious they actually try to eat themselves!
By that logic, you could just dispense with the alligators and place the inmates in the swamps to take big bites out of their own fleeing legs whenever they tried to escape. Truly self-swallowing immigrants are no danger to the nation’s demographics whatsoever, just have ICE hose them down with Spicy Mexican BBQ sauce at the border and watch the problem solve itself immediately.
SHOWERS OF SHIT
Accused of basically reopening Auschwitz, Trump deftly shifted the topic around to showers, suddenly promising, apropos of absolutely nothing, to “make America’s showers great again” in terms of their unacceptably low water pressure. This could easily be increased, he said, as “we have so much” water “we don’t know what to do with it,” as it “comes down from heaven” and agrees to work for you for free, just like alligators and mad foreign cannibals do.
“One of the first things Biden did” during his time in office was “put restrictions on showers, toilets, sinks, and washing machines,” the president rambled.
At least the terminal decline of American showers under Biden’s insanitary reign has opened up a new business opportunity for Trump in terms of helping disguise citizens’ consequent bad body odor with his new range of “iconic” Donald-branded perfumes and colognes, which promise to cause users to “smell like Trump”; marketers appear unaware that the word “trump,” in British English, means “fart.”
Or maybe the anal wordplay was intentional? Due to Biden’s long-term war on showers, POTUS 47 has begun to acquire a distinctly unpleasant fragrance to himself, to judge by the testimony of former Republican representative Adam Kinzinger, who called the president’s habitual odor of “armpits, ketchup, makeup, and a little butt” so “pungent” that he recommended wearing a mask in his presence, a message the president did not appreciate.
When Anthony Fauci once did the same, matters got so out of hand that the White House had to pretend to the whole nation it was just a piece of advice about some stupid made-up thing called COVID-19 purely to calm the president down again.
NATIONAL INSECURITY
Another sensitive location that could do with having a few spare crocodilians placed around it is RAF Brize Norton, one of the U.K.’s leading military air bases, which was broken into recently by a bunch of studenty cretins from the anti-Israel terror group Palestine Action, who managed to severely damage two expensive military aircraft, causing £7m of injury merely by spraying them with paint.
How did the kaffiyeh wearers manage to penetrate the base’s defenses? Probably very easily, as it now turns out the place is run by a Rachel Reeves-style weeping widow named Louise Henton, with a background not in drone-strafing Afghan wedding parties, like she’s meant to have, but in HR. An old essay of Henton’s has been unearthed in which she bemoans how, in the prefeminist era, “overly masculine” personality traits “such as patriotism and bravery” were “viewed as desirable within the military,” which would never do.
A desire to detoxify the base from excessive masculinity probably explains why Henton has as her “Estate Facilities Manager” a “very proud…member of the LGBT+ community” named Sara Hayes, who is ultra-keen on something called “Transgender Visibility Day.” Military air bases are not supposed to be terribly “visible,” however, thus making any such trannies on parade there into a clear and present national security risk. Military personnel should be wearing camouflage, not glitter.
To judge by the establishment’s pathetic website, Hayes’ main contribution to the base’s “Estate Facilities” has not been to reinforce its fences with barbed wire to keep out angry Palestinians, but instead to create “an improved pedestrian crossing system” outside the on-site “Royal Air Force Association Kidz Nursery Entrance,” which she has gaily done up in the queer rainbow colors, accompanied by the slogan “LOOK BOTH WAYS.” Surely “SWING BOTH WAYS”?
Palestine Action are not the only ones guilty of expensively vandalizing RAF Brize Norton with cans of paint, but at least they didn’t get funded by the taxpayer to do it.
SEX, DRUGS, AND SPRING ROLLS
In less need of improved on-site security is England’s Glastonbury Music [sic] Festival, where a large left-wing banner appeared showing the globe from space, reading “I DON’T SEE ANY BORDERS, DO YOU?” This banner was hung up on the festival’s large and unpassable perimeter border fence. It costs about £450 a ticket to get in, although entrance is free for members of Hamas, who have prior form in gaining illicit access to such occasions, whether guests want them there or not.
In the terrorists’ honor, a talentless rap-punk duo, Bob Vylan, took to the stage to lead the crowd in a chant demanding freedom for Palestine, death to the Zionists, the colonization of white Britain in the name of the blacks, and…free vegetable-based school dinners for all! Bob Vylan pose as daring provocateurs, with lead mumbler Bobby Vylan claiming he can’t reveal his true name due to fear of assassination by the evil fascist British “surveillance state.” It is unlikely the state does not already know Bobby’s identity, though, as his first-ever stage appearance, as a humble performance poet, was at the Black and Asian Police Association Conference in Manchester in 2005.
More likely, Bobby is just embarrassed that his real name is the distinctly upper-middle-class and poncy Pascal Robinson-Foster, which makes him sound like a gay white academic specializing in Applied Silver Spoon Studies.
Having sensibly given up eating fattening potato waffles, the lettuce-chomping Pascal now says that, alongside demanding Communist race revolution in his songs, “much of his messaging concerns avoiding alcohol, eating well and being in good health,” accusing the Food Nazis in Westminster of “killing off kids with £2 chicken and chips.”
Pascal has even radicalized his own offspring—by using the carrot, not the stick. The proud father went online after people accused him of anti-Jewish hate speech to boast of how, thanks to his patented anti-Zionist, but pro-vegetable, message, his own daughter had just successfully filled in a short questionnaire complaining about the low nutritional quality and insufficiently internationalist, kosher-free nature of her free school dinners.
“Today it is a change in school dinners, tomorrow it is a change in foreign policy,” Pascal wagered, sounding less like Lenin or Mao, more like Morrissey, but more pro-Muslim.
Zohran Mamdani is not the only non-white leftist radical who wants to use state-funded grocery supplies to change the world. Truly, the West these days is being run by absolute cabbages.