The First NSU/WEJB Kwanzaa Fundraiser!

 

Somewhere in South Trinidad

I hope that my readers all enjoyed a delicious and relaxing Thanksgiving with their families, and meditated on all for which they should be thankful. You know, the death of the dollar, the abrogation of their civil rights, the erasure of our southern border, and thus of American sovereignty, and countless other blessings of the Age of “Obama,” and of the multicultural totalitarianism which is as old as he is.

I give thanks every day: Thank God for my family, I say, sometimes while wearing a fresh pair of ear plugs, while the Boss and the Boss’ Boss express their mutual affection at ear-splitting decibels.

This year, we were unable to celebrate a traditional Thanksgiving. We spent Wednesday night packing, and at 3:40 a.m. piled into a taxi, to go to JFK, where we boarded a flight to Trinidad.

I was so nervous about getting groped that I didn’t realize we’d all been rape-scanned. After we’d gone through security, my sister-in-law asked if we’d been scanned. I didn’t know, but walked over and saw a large, white pane of plastic saying, “Rapiscan.”

At least, the TSA goons were on best behaviour, which I suspect was because of all the bad recent publicity. It also helped that we had a black (American) man, instead of the sort of porcine, racist black woman whose high-handed tactics are already a stereotype.

The young man who dealt with us found a full, four oz. bottle of hand sanitizer in the Boss’ carry-on bag, and informed us that we could not bring in any liquid of over 3.4 ounces. He then asked how much was in the bottle. The Boss didn’t get the joke, so I answered, “Three-point-one ounces.” He smiled, and returned our bottle.

And then it was on to the den of vipers, er, I mean, beloved sisters-in-law!

My Hindu father-in-law died last December 23, and Hinduism directs that one set of prayers be held just after the funeral, and another set 11 months later.

Hopefully, there will be no tragic “accidents,” as occurred separately in January, nearly costing the lives of a niece and nephew from the same family. (Five sisters and their progeny are all heirs. The fewer the heirs remaining, the more there is for the rest!)

My niece was visiting from Canada, to which she escaped, er, returned. Canada somehow seems to be a safer place for her. (She will not be coming for these prayers.)

Since I am not an heir, I am the safest person attending the prayers! However, I must protect the two heirs I brung with me.

I’ll have more to tell in the coming days.

* * *
The foregoing may be an unusual opening for a begging letter, but NSU/WEJB is an unusual operation. I started out all by my lonesome, and now have a host of reader-researchers, legmen, collaborators and reader-patrons.

I need a heap of money to pay for:

• The usual expenses (electricity, ISP, paper, etc.);
• A new pc (an IMAC, so I can get Bill Gates out of my life);
• Writing and publishing a book on the Knoxville Horror; and
• Continuing to pay off my mortgage.

To anyone who should say, “What do I care about your expenses?” my response is, I wasn’t addressing you. I am only addressing people who care about reading the best in independent journalism.

To the rest, I say, thank you in advance for your generous support!

Sincerely,

Nicholas Stix