By Yoichi Shimatsu
Exclusive To Rense
10-29-24

The rather discriminatory - yet hilarious (that being the intent to other than sour-pusses) - way over the top stereotype of Puerto Ricans by a comedian (stress here comedic satire of a right-wing jerk) at Trump's Carnegie Hall rally has become a liberal crusade for political correctness during this late phase of the election season. Nobody - even that critic of such a lovely tropic island of posh dope-addled tourist resorts and impoverished jobless peons - dare deny that Puerto Ricans have talent - for instance singer Ricky Martin whose talent was mainly to hide from multi-millions of his female fans that he was all along queer since his start with the Menudo boy group. Rickeee! has been gay ever since his first audition – illegally in childhood – as the “especial” virginal prize (for super-wealthy NYC VIPs only) set apart from his three companions who were violated for a very small cash donation to the Rican producers.

Yeah, you never hear from the Democrat supporters of PR immigration about how their island is a gay and lesbian resort for decadent American queers. I recall their crooked manager in the bad old days put up posters all over New York City, boasting as much of boys for rent under the Menudo band wagon – and that was amid the New York City financial default, when the city was dark, impoverished and crime-ridden. I know because I was there, not inside the pants of some male kid but at the PR discos featuring the bands of Tito Puente and Ray Barretto, those kings of Salsa. Honestly, the Latino girls had an inner materialistic streak that turn he off to go to Saturday Night Fever type dance halls with Italian women instead, though the music sucked in comparison to Puerto Rican salsa and later Cumbre from Venezuela (pre-military coup). BTW, Menudo is a soup of boiled pork or beef, slimy and requiring getting used to with a lot of Miller beer.

Dems in Support of violent PR radicalism

Democratic Party sympathy for the Puerto Rican cause is pure mierada – BS! Offering welfare handouts is a crude substitute for nationhood and UN membership. Most of the drug-infused hip tourists to Colonial Puerto Rico are mostly decadent Yanqui Dems! The grateful welfare recipients of that insular dependency have never boasted about the Freedom movement of radical PR leftists led by Lolita Lebron who shot up the Capital Dome in D.C. and shot five congressmen while the U.S. Congress was in session back in 1955 - which nowadays the hypocrite Dems do not dare compare with the January protest when the only gunshot murder victim was Miss Ashli Babbitt, age 35, one of the protesters. No, the mind-bent Dems are in denial on that only one person was shot dead - by dredging up supposed victims on their side of the picket line months later to cover over the security guard’s unjustifiable shooting for the “crime” of banging her fist on a tempered glass panel. By contrast with Joe Biden’s fascistic suppression of those American patriots, Jimmy Carter issued a reprieve for the violent PR radicals who assaulted Congress with murderous intent.

Four years prior to the 1955 radical independista assault on Congress in session, two members of the Puerto Rican Nationalist Party – Griselio Torresola and Oscar Collazo - shot dead White House guard Leslie Coffelt at Blair House during their assassination attempt on President Harry Truman – a Democrat. Yeah, the violence-prone hitmen kill Democrats, too, so long as they are Anglos. There is no party distinction, you idiots with the Kamala campaign! You are in bed with Republicans and not whoring on the streets for your poor oppressed Ricans that you exploit way more along the East Coast and Florida in low-playing jobs than do their Republican employers. .

Why was Truman targeted for assassination? Because in a 1952 plebiscite on the island, more than 80 percent of PR residents cast ballots for remaining as an associated state of the USA. So the radicals desperately attempted to incite the Americanos to wage warfare against their own people. The rebellion by radical supporters in the island’s interior left hundreds dead from USAF strafing and bombing. The rejection of violence by the majority of Puerto Ricans was a definitive “NO” vote against any repeat of the October 1950 armed rebellion on orders from the radical nationalist Pedro Albizu Campos, which was suppressed by the local National Guard. Do not get me wrong, while resident in NYC I sympathized with the Young Lords attempting to revive the independence cause – because poverty in a free country is morally sounder – indeed noble as compared with beggary and abject dependency on a foreign power. We cannot expect such honest truth from the cheating liars with the Democrat Party, who are profiteering from the U.S. aid to the PR.

So the point today is: When idiotic Kamala Dems raises hackles over certain well-founded negative images of Puerto Ricans (American citizens have a right to their opinion, no matter how offensive, but false Americano friends are playing with “The Fire Next Time”. The situation today in the PR is even more in favor of association with the USA, following Hurricane Maria that devastated the island in autumn 2017, killing nearly three thousand residents and forcing temporary mass immigration to the U.S. mainland, mainly to Florida. Put bluntly, my opinion then was to close the gates and make the island locals do the heavy lifting of storm recovering instead of, as usual, depending on their Good Neighbor, the USA pay for and perform nearly all the hard work – aka a Reality Check about the double standard toward the USA (in stark contrast to the Hawaiians). Farther on in this essay, I mention my shocked reactions to Puerto Rican push-and-shove “Me First” behavior during the flight to Florida following the 2020 January 7 earthquake that devastated large swathes of that island. That rude behavior was one among many real reasons why a comedian jokes about the undesirability of those selfish and rude intruders overrunning and defiling the once American Way of Life.

In the Alphabet Soup

During my sojourn in New York City following the collapse of the Midwest steel industry, I moved to New York due to my keen interest in the fine arts and the only affordable rental for a poor boy was inside the Alphabet Soup streets - on Avenue D (four blocks from Canal Street where on a Sunday morning I scored a job as a delivery man for a major artists’ paint store.) On Monday my first day at the job I had to work overtime to complete delivery to that corps of Abstract Expressionists and ultra-large Field Painting movement (that you never heard of due to canvases wider than most houses). So that task done, I stopped at nearby Chinatown for soup and rice, and then strolled back to the apartment with a six-pack of beer.

Walking up the rows of Alphabet Soup, I reached my home turf, which was packed wall-to-wall with PR dope dealers selling cocaine and heroin and waving syringes. Pushing through the mob of “Boricua” aka PR hustlers yelling at the top of voices, I reached the steps of my apartment building only to find stoned-out Rican junkies nodding out on the front stairs. Kicking my way up, I unlocked the front door, slammed it shut and walked four flights up the unlit staircase and unlocked the steel door. I wondered if the former residents had installed the steel window shutters as a security precaution.

After turning out the lights for a bad night’s sleep, I could hear the rats crawling through tunnels behind the living room wall, with an occasional yelp from a friend’s cat parked in my pad, which became a permanent resident when the guy left town unannounced. Too bad she – the cat – could not sing: “Start spreading the news = I want to be part of It - New York, New York!” The City in financial default with sidewalks piled high with dog poop was hell on Earth – but then again that’s where I got my start in the impossible dream of journalism – as the emergency substitute for the very ill editor of a business news magazine. So I changed my tune to: “I Love New York! There isn’t another like it wherever you go!” Yeah, in more ways than one. Watch where you step especially when jogging.

The Young Lords and Geraldo Rivera

Later that week I discovered to my surprise that indeed they did - as the headquarters of the Young Lords militant leftist group that agitated for independence of Puerto Rico. (Geraldo Rivera, the TV gadfly was their lawyer at the time.) After a massive NYPD siege the Lords were evicted and many of them jailed for bearing rifles at street protests. The Young Lords were latter-day disciples of those “terrorists” aka independistas who sought the same national independence enjoyed by The Philippines and Cuba in the decades following Teddy Roosevelt’s eviction of their historical overlords during the Spanish American War (fought at the turn of century).

I then realized that my family was greatly influenced by that anti-colonial conflict: When a U.S. Merchant Marine vessel returning from that conflict in the Philippines stopped by Hawaii to refill its water barrels and hire a young fellow willing to climb the main mast, empty the toilets and work in the kitchen. My grandfather Saburo who ventured to Hawaii at age 15 to escape the cold north wind of northern Japan eagerly signed aboard. Later during the crossing of the Antarctic waters south of Cape Horn (Chile), a midnight storm overwhelmed the ship forcing the captain to order the lowering the top sail. Three men and a boy (my granddad) climbed the mast and then stood on either side, with Saburo at the south tip. Suddenly an unseen massive wave taller than the mast rolled up and slammed the ship sideways. All four lost their footing, three to disappear forever and the Japanese kid gliding to his unseen doom - when a rope miraculously swung into his right hand’s little finger to save his life and the ship since it was the rope to the top-mast. During their long stopover in Cuba, the captain woke up my ancestor to urge him to grab his duffle bag and run fast to another ship leaving for Boston - and handed him a rolled up commendation for saving a federal ship and about 70 crew and malaria victims from drowning. Saburo was one of few if any exceptions allowed entry and residence in the USA to the Japanese Immigration Exclusion Act of Congress during that era.

As an adviser and lobbyist on immigration policy in the 1970s and ’80s, I oft cited my granddad’s example to would-be immigrants: What have you done for the USA to deserve citizenship? OK, Hungarians resisted the Red Army occupation of Budapest and the South Vietnamese died in droves alongside American soldiers to stop the Soviet-Northern offensive. What have the Puerto Ricans done? Collect welfare, drank a lot of Miller’s beer, went to bowling alleys and danced at salsa clubs. Then again, the Ricans had a special status for being born on an island used as a U.S. Navy forward base in the Caribbean Sea. Unlike free Cuba and Philippines, the PR did not produce much sugar cane for the American market for rum-and-coke until the Castro brothers’ Cuban Revolution and the Bay of Pigs fiasco for the CIA, if any. That’s when second-rate Rican rum came into the American market under the Bacardi label for rather ironic Cuba Libre cocktails, basically crap rum and decent Coke as in cola not the latter day stuff up the nostrils peddled by Ricans at New York dance clubs. Their island paradise consists many of hills unsuited for coconut plantationst. It’s basically a tourist destination for super-idle rich Americans into swilling gallons of mojitos and pina coladas while snorting cocaine.

Since the Cuban revolutionaries have no enthusiasm to spend their puny earnings on welfare for Ricans, there is zero incentive for using that island as a stepping-stone for invading Alabama or Miami, Florida, which already is overwhelmed by Cubans and during times of crisis Ricans, as I learned during my brief residence in Florida after returning from my journalism career in Asia.

Barricading Social Security against aged Americanos

At reaching a ripe old age overseas, I decided to cash in on my youthful decades of hard toil in the USA by applying for my overdue Social Security benefits at the Orlando SSI office. It was a long bicycle ride to get to the remote southern location close to the city limits. On my several attempts to enter building, I was ordered by the security guard to join the line of white American citizens because the front door was mobbed by Puerto Rican escapees from a major earthquake on their island. One of the more amusing sights was a PR grandmother leading her offspring - up to 50 men, women and kids – past the welcoming guard, through the doors and storm in like that army of coke and smack dealers on Avenue D NYC. After waiting for 8 hours, a white staffer would invariably come outside to tell the Americans to “come back tomorrow” go away and don’t come back - the same routine experienced for many days in line until the Americano victim of the preferential SS system simply gave up.

On one turn-away in the late afternoon, I stopped my bike at a drive-in burger joint where I sat beside an elderly white lady to consume my fries. Dorothy said that she was a third-generation Orlando family who previous owned two houses, went broke because of home robberies and purse snatching by Puerto Ricans, and had given up on trying to apply for SSI benefits out of fear of being beaten to death by a Latino gang. She was 79 years old at the time. My response was: I came back to American assuming it was a free country unlike the many dictatorship in Asia. Now, I am disgusted to find preferential treatment by the mainly Democrat government employees for illegals (without checking criminal records in their home countries) while native-born Americans are treated worse than pickpockets in Cambodia. And I found that black American residents of Florida feel exactly the same, even angrier about the endless tide of Haitians, Cuban, Ricans and other foreign freeloaders. That’s the fact – Jack - on the street.

The first-major recent surge was due to Hurricane Maria – as in “I’ve just met a girl named Maria and suddenly that name will never be the same for me!” Mother Mary, save us from such indignity of dispossession! One of the Puerto Ricainyos washed onto the Florida shores was a short aged man with a small hat who wheeled his stolen shopping cart to a dental clinic, whose chief was a friend of mine that I sometimes helped with gardening and also standing guard with a steel pole during the Black Lives Matter riots. Since my early youth was in a poor black ghetto in Los Angeles, I understand the psychology of the poor - that when and if hit by a hard object they would feel traumatic pain, not get medical care for many hours and could face arrest for provoking the losing fight. Thus I had the BLM sissies on the run and out of that neighborhood by spooking them with the threat of kung-fu (even though my line of twerk was judo.). But the old PR thief was not so easily bluffed. Every time I went out for coffee or a sandwich, the little fellow would creep toward the back of the dental offices and store rooms for a break in attempt. Invariably with a Chick-fil-A in my hand or mouth, I’d catch him in the act and he’s run off as if trying to catch a bus. And every following day, he’d be back with yet another stolen shopping cart to case the joint like a stray dog who buried a bone in your backyard. What irritated me the most was wheel his cavalcade of shopping carts back to a grocery store five blocks up the street.

Vote For Rickeeee!

Thus, given my extensive experience inside Puerto Rican dance clubs, restaurants, bars, homes and, no not in bordellos - my advice to the incoming Trump White House team is: Ask Geraldo Rivera to gather his old comrades from the Young Lords and their families on the White House Lawn to give them the keys to the Island of Independent Puerto Rico. It’s yours, baby, to ruin, riot and rob - or just maybe instead to liberate as a decent hard-working and responsible society! But if you insist, go ahead, join those comrades in Cuba, who would love nothing more than robbing blind the PR with open-door immigration to San Juan. Meanwhile its bogus status as a U.S. protectorate should be relegated to a dusty museum a Miami disco. Besides, Ricky Martin needs a job as El Presidente now that his music career and bum-boy daze are long over. Imaging all the old senoras jumping up and down, shouting “Reee-keee!”. What a happy day in San Juan when the ghost of Teddy Roosevelt is finally gone forever to share a rum-and-coke with the Imperial Hispanic ghosts, finally ending the Spanish-American war forever after. Viva Rico Libre! But make it with a decent Havana Club rum and sugar Coke not the diet poison.

And then at last Americans can keep their social welfare system responsible to our elderly, veterans and disabled citizens as it was always supposed to be. Respect is based on mutual distance not on reducing our elderly citizens to desperation and beggary. And what about me as one of millions of victims of a politically corrupt system? I suffer the delusion of being bullet-proof and therefore just hope that the ignorant Kamala-Tim hypocrites do not raise any more false alarms about social injustice - when their Dems are actually the worst perpetuators of unfairness, inequality and the reasonableness of crime by their brain-dead followers. Their ilk deserve a free cruise ship adventure into the depths of Hell aka rum-deprived Haiti for permanent exile. . Let’s bring back decency to America by flushing those fakers into the sewer during the coming election. Oh, BTW, this mad diatribe is dedicated to our fond memory of that dedicated male-chauvinist pig Ernest Hemingway for his love of rum, fishing, shooting elephants and putting up with way too many marriages! Arriba Bajo! Salud! Hombres and especialmente cheers to you beautiful Senoritas!

And what to do about that offensive comedian Tony Hinchcliff? He’s the guy at a Comedy Central Roast who blurted to His High Holy Majesty of Hip-Hop: “Snoop Dog, you look like the California Raisin that got hooked on heroin.” The below-the belt elicited a huge smile from Snoop. And what was the public reaction? Well, Tim Walz called the comedian a “jack-wad”. Takes one to know one, right. As for the Dem Princess from that misfortunate island – Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez said that Tony’s jibe against the beloved Home Land of her abandonment was “super-upsetting”, although not as upsetting as her recent drought of dating partners willing to pay the dinner bill. Lighten up, you loser Dems. That’s what rum’s for! Yeah, Rickeee for presidente of the gay paradise of PR!