Mr. Bungles

After a long search I finally re-found this old article by the incomparable Incogman. Incogman's site might be familiar to some reading this. It, and probably him personally, were under constant attack by Jewry. It was a great place to hang out; both for Incogman's witty take on things and the many characters who posted comments there.

Incogman has since gone dark, but he does maintain something of a (much diminished) presence at Gab: https://gab.com/INCOGMAN

Fitz


Hey, let’s stop for a few minutes and do a little thought-experimentation here, OK?

Let’s just say you’re some regular White person and all, who stumbled upon this blog out of the blue and are now saying to yourself “WTF?” What’s all this stuff about, anyways? You sure as hell don’t want to hate anyone, now do you?

Now, let’s pretend that you live in a nice house, with a big happy family and then this neighbor comes along and tells you that the guy down the street, Mr. Bungles, hates your guts for something your cousin once did to him way back in college. You blow it all off, not wanting to cause a ruckus about it.

Then your son tells you that Mr. Bungles is now buying beer and weed for the neighborhood “Gangstas,” befriending and being pals with them for some reason. And then your daughter insists she saw Mr. Bungles stealing your mail last week. You just chalk it up to her imagination.

Then, your dog ends-up poisoned, your car gets keyed and you constantly have other acts of petty vandalism to your property.
Your daughter, pissed off at you for not listening to her about Mr. Bungles in the first place, takes up with the neighborhood gang out of teenage frustration (don’t we all go through that phase as kids?). The next thing you know, the whole gang is out partying on your front lawn and are now buddying up to your son, too.

Then you find out you’re the victim of identity theft; and whoever did it, ran up a huge credit debt, possibly even bankrupting you. Plus, you discover your homeowner's insurance has been mysteriously cancelled. Next, you catch a gangsta trying to burn your house down. You manage to put out the flames but the SOB gets clean away.

You try to tell the police about your suspicions of Mr. Bungles stealing your identity, but they just laugh in your face, calling you an "anti-Clownite", since poor Mr. Bungles belongs to the always-so-victimized Clown race.

The police call you a hater to your face, kindly suggesting that you just shut the hell up or they’ll throw your White butt in jail. Then, per chance, you find out that Mr. Bungle’s cousin is the police chief — another Clown.

That really ticks you off, so off you go to City Hall to see if you can get any help. While waiting in the foyer, you happen to look up and see the mayor’s portrait hanging there — that’s when you notice that his highness has got himself a big cherry nose, red afro and a toothy, smirking grin.

Frustrated as all hell by now, you decide to stop by the offices of the local newpaper to see if they’ll look into your story and, when you get there, they send out a reporter named Ronald Bungles to talk to you.

Now, at some point, you finally get it and realize you have a real problem with this guy, Mr. Bungles, the Clown down the street, and his friends.

One would hope you finally get it. – Incogman