May 20, 2015
Back in March we reported about Ruby Hamad, a feminist SJW columnist whose mission in life is to try to bring down men, but especially White men.
We denounced her with a selection of masterfully crafted insults, pointed out she’s an abomination of deformed Arab genes jealously leeching off the very White race she is adamant about destroying, and invited the troll army to bombard her Twitter page.
Well, the same way a Jew’s nose will always be hooked, Ruby will never stop hating on Whitey, and for the silliest of reasons. Old goat face is back at it again, paying her rent with a hastily cobbled together article for Daily Life that can leave no doubt in any intelligent person’s mind that we’re dealing here with a one-trick donkey (a female donkey is called a ‘jenny’ by the way).
Hamad simply must “unpack” her racial and karmic angst on Whitey lest various editors finally figure out that their halal-happy pen-for-hire has in fact no other opinions on anything in life, much less anything that might be aggrieving those of Caucasian origin, because to her that would be good news — such as Whites being slaughtered, or what have you. The second these online cosmetic catalogues with editorial filler stop publishing her anti-White diatribes then it’d be plain even to a cross-eyed kid with down syndrome that she is incapable of pithy social commentary, or a constructive worldview, that might actually enlighten her mannequin readership instead of contributing to their ever depreciating IQs.
— Ruby Hamad (@rubyhamad) May 18, 2015
This time Ruby is leading a Saladin’s charge against an eccentric Virginian father of three who has gone to extraordinary lengths to make his beloved non-coloured daughter feel like a princess, The Guardian originally reported.
Jeremiah Heaton discovered a disputed strip of land named Bir Tawil on the Sudanese-Egyptian border, travelled there, and planted a flag to stake his claim for a kingdom. Now his seven-year-old daughter may soon be able to boast being the Princess of North Sudan.
For Heaton, it was all about his daughter. He had considered travelling to Antarctica to find her a province and bring some sparkle of joy to what will be but a speck of what will be her childhood and let her play princess, but that turned out to be less practical. Recounting the background of his unconventional project to The Guardian, he said, “At that point I had no idea how to make it happen, but I couldn’t let her down.
“It [the strip of land] has been unclaimed for around 100 years. I just followed the same process as many others have done over hundreds of years, planted our flag, and claimed it.”
How beaut is that, readers? The things a White dad will do for his much-loved offspring, whereas an Arab father of Ruby’s inbred background wouldn’t. No, they’d be too busy hacking out their daughter’s hymen with a rusty razor and marrying her off at seven years old to a 90-year-old carpet merchant in the name of some whizzed-up family honour.
Of course, Heaton can’t just have the land simply ’cos he’s stuck a flag in the sand; he has to pay for it and to that end he’s embarked on an ambitious and slightly ludicrous crowd funding campaign to whip up a cool $45 million to make this thing for real.
But Ruby doesn’t see the charm of this story, which has Disney (who’re anti-White anyway) interested in a film treatment. No, she rails about how, “In case this isn’t enough White privilege for you today, Heaton has also struck a deal to turn his exploits into an animated, “fantastical” feature film to be directed by Morgan ‘Super Size Me’ Spurlock called, what else, The Princess of North Sudan.” No way, this is White Supremacy at its ugliest and has nothing to do with simple love and the fleeting chance for this father to gift this child what will be an even shorter-lived fantasy.
And here we go: “Leave it to Disney to validate this modern-day iteration of colonialism. It’s hard to know where to begin when it comes to unpacking this display of White entitlement.”
Ranting bafflingly about how Disney has never made a proper film about a darkie African princess, this menstruating man-hater spends about 300 monotonously elementary words thereafter horning, “The essence of colonialism is the still-existent notion that White people are entitled to whatever they want. That this world is their oyster and the rest of us are either inconveniences or objects of pity to be saved.”
Frankly, we’re surprised they haven’t caught her in a huge rubber net and hauled her off to the head factory. The madness continues to spittle forth as she prattles insanely: “There is no other way to put this. This is not okay. A White man claiming a piece of land in the very continent that has been ravaged by colonialism arguably more than any other, and which still bears the scars and open wounds to prove it, and proclaiming his family its royal rulers is an obscene display of entitlement and privilege.”
Ruby, somewhere in this world is the tiniest violin in existence, and it’s playing mournfully especially for you and your poor exploited hordes of unwashed sandal-coons. What’s more, it’s playing out of tune, because that violin understands that your kind of rubbish just isn’t worth the effort.
But we’re tickled that you’re so obsessed with us Whites, Rubes, that we’ve driven you out of that tiny parking space you call your mind.