Uh huh. I'll bet he had some help down the steps too. Looks like "Becky Cookies" Mercer has decided to break off "Sloppy Steve" and dump him in a heap on the sidewalk in front of the Breitbart Social Club. No doubt a warning to anyone else thinking of undermining the Trump bratva. It could have been worse; the "Honey Badger" could have wound up with his dick in his mouth and stuffed in a heat sealed bag of breakup snickerdoodles delivered to Michael Wolff's front door by a guy with a dagger tattoo through his neck.
What becomes of Breitbart remains to be seen. Someone else will likely move into Bannon's chair at the "office". Breitbart generates to much action for the Mercer's to completely wash their hands of it. Oversight of the operation may be left to intermediaries ("beneficial owners") or other close friends whose loyalties to the Trump family remain reliable. What's Anthony "Tony Shade" Scaramucci doing these days?
“This life of ours, this is a wonderful life. If you can get through life like this and get away with it, hey, that’s great. But its very, very unpredictable. There’s so many ways you can screw it up.” - Paul "Big Paulie" Castellano
8/19/2017 - Stephen Bannon Declares War on Everything
~ Bannon kind of reminds me of Roberto Farinacci the deranged Italian fascist local squadrismo (Blackshirt) leader who lost his right hand while fishing with a grenade.
Trump family capo "Sloppy Steve" Bannon (when not watching TV with other Breitbart crew members) is reportedly laying low (presumably on, or under, a mattress) in the attic of his Breitbart Social Club in Washington D.C.. Pensively awaiting word on what's to be done with him, or to him, for his alleged role in an apparent attempted media hit-job on Trump family boss Don "Pussy Fingers" Trump.
Bannon, who may not have denied emphatically enough accusations that he betrayed sensitive Trump family confidences to media infiltrator Michael Wolff, has been laying low since revelations about the secretive inner circle of the Trump organization became public last week.
Bannon, considered a family ultra-nationalist, was especially critical of Don Trump's son Don Junior (aka: Donny "No-chin" or Donny "Egg") for his outreach and collusion with foreign Russian "associates". Outreach that capo Bannon allegedly characterized as "treasonous".
Bannon has since denied he was speaking about Don Jr. when speaking of treason, and was, rather, referring to Paul "Paulie Laundry" Manafort the Trump family capo pinched for his reported connections to friends and associates of Trump family shadow boss Vladamir "Possum Face" Putin.
Regardless of who exactly Bannon claims to have been referring to even the impression one might be boot-stomping the boss's son on the carpet in front of an outsider like Wolff is a serious breach of the family's code of conduct. To add insult to injury Bannon - clearly jacked up following his reported assault on the "Egg" - decided to persist with the flogging by offering to Mr. Wolff his unreserved opinion that Don Trump's daughter Ivanka (aka: "Ivanka the Terrible") is "dumb as a brick".
Consequently, this pronouncement from Bannon may have earned her the nickname "Gold Brick" among some members of the borgata (who will understandably prefer to remain anonymous).
A swipe which isn't going to sit well with the dumb brick's daddy who not only considers himself an unassailable monolithic genius by any mortal standard but also considers his daughter a manifest counterpart to the legacy of no-less than Queen Boudica. For the Don daughter Ivanka could have driven the Roman legions from Camulodunum wearing a pair of Kate Spade Santarosa pumps while riding into battle astride an enormous plush bunny rabbit from FAO Schwartz. This flower of strength will forever forge ahead.
All of this might bring to mind the old saying "what the fuck is going on here". But hang in there; it all makes sense if you follow the giant bunny rabbit down the giant bunny rabbit hole that is the Trump family organization.
Now did'ja hear 'bout Louie Miller?
He disappeared, babe
After drawin' out all his hard-earned cash
And now MacHeath spends just like a sailor
Could it be our boy's done somethin' rash?
Breitbart Social Club in D.C.
Back at the Breitbart Social Club Bobby Darin is singing about the menacing nature of sharks and Rebekah "Becky Cookies" Mercer turns up the volume on the portable CD player.
She's been making it abundantly clear to Sloppy Steve that her daddy owns a very large boat - about 75 million large - and this large boat is uniquely suited to traversing large expanses of very remote ocean waters. Very deep remote ocean waters where, if someone were not very careful, and someone were instead excessively reckless, that someone could easily be swept away by very deep and powerful currents. Swept away "somewhere beyond the sea, somewhere waiting for ___." If ya get my drift.
You know when that shark bites
With his teeth, babe
Scarlet billows
Start to spread
Fancy gloves, though
Wears ol' Macheath, babe
So there's never, never a trace of red
These inspiring little sea shanties more than likely impressed upon Sloppy Steve (an old Navy man himself and no stranger to the big water) the importance of clarity of language and the power of metaphor and therefore helped procure the following clarification from the now repentant capo:
"My comments were aimed at Paul Manafort, a seasoned campaign professional with experience and knowledge of how the Russians operate. He should have known they are duplicitous, cunning and not our friends. To reiterate, those comments were not aimed at Don Jr."
Of course. Fortunately for Bannon his co-caposcemo "Paulie Laundry" has other more pressing problems to occupy his time and most likely won't be available for retort since he seems to have gambled away any comeback cash he had left in his cache on a failed long shot influence peddling caper involving a Ukrainian bag-man and the editorial pages of selected media marks.
Paulie Laundry (R) with bag-man Konstantin Kilimnik
Bannon may have bought himself a pass for now but he'll no doubt be taxed for his disrespectful behavior for a while to come. What becomes of the Breitbart Social Club remains to be seen as well although I'd bet the Mercer bakery keeps the cannoli coming as long as Sloppy Steve promises to stop feeding them to his own mutinous ambitions. (There is nothing sadder than a sloppy fat man eating alone in bed.)
PHOTO: (at left) Trump family social media muscle, and former golf caddy to the boss, Dan "Stick Boy" Scavino (wanted for violations of the Hatch Act) with Rebekah "Becky Cookies" Mercer (right) -- (top center) Scruffy Steve Bannon in happier times. -- (also pictured) "Untouchable" Hope Hicks (back left) and Kellyanne "Nails" Conway (front center)
Additionally, Mr. Bannon must agree to stop wearing two or three collared shirts at a time under a sport coat and buy himself a nice quiet respectable necktie. Or one will be provided for him. And it won't be the kind that looks handsome in all the pictures. Cah-peesh?
Trump and Graham having a conversation on the golf course. Transcript of conversation below:
TRUMP: Lindsey, I like you. You're a great guy. Believe me, I think you're wonderful.
GRAHAM: I think you once called me a zero and a nut job and...
TRUMP: Listen to me Lindsey. Listen. Friends of mine - people - people I know tell me things, things about people, people like you. Friends from Miami Beach, or Palm Beach, or Brighton Beach, or some beach somewhere... it doesn't matter where the beach is. These people, and I know people, they tell me they found something of yours...
GRAHAM: What? What kind of thing did...
TRUMP: Excuse me, things. Things of yours. Things on the beach. Photo things. Photos of you. They said they came from the clouds - whatever that means.
GRAHAM: The clouds? You mean IT cloud, networking...
TRUMP: Excuse me. Excuse me. Yeah, the cloud. In the cloud. Whatever IT is. Photos of you, in the cloud. Or something. And I was just wondering if you might have some idea or suggestion as to what should be done with these things that dropped out of the cloud and right onto the beach in front of my friends. Where they picked them up and put them in their pockets like precious little sea shells.
GRAHAM: Uhmm, I see. Were any of these friends named...
TRUMP: Excuse me. I don't know who they are, they're just people. People with funny names like Boils and Shovelhead and The White Sturgeon. And Shovelhead had a picture of YOU wearing a pair of leather underpants and holding a frilly parasol and...
GRAHAM: Oh, jesus.
TRUMP: I especially like the one where you're on your hands and knees licking a cake and there's some guy dressed like a confederate cavalry officer poking at you with a...
GRAHAM: Oh please stop, please! Please, what do you want me...
TRUMP: Shut up. Stop crying. I told you I like you. Although that stuff in the picture with the barbie doll was pretty weird. I still like you. I'm sorry I said you were one of the dumbest human beings I’d ever seen. And this is your chance to prove you aren't.
GRAHAM: But that's not really...
TRUMP: Close enough for radio!
GRAHAM: Are you trying to tell me...
TRUMP: Excuse me. I'll bet it was a hell of a party too. I haven't been to a party like that since Roy died. What's Fire Island like these days anyway? Nevermind... what I'm telling you is you can have these things we have, I mean I have, I mean they have, I mean there are more. Plenty more where these came from - so...
GRAHAM: What do you want me... I can't...
TRUMP: Lindsey, get a hold of yourself, listen to me. All I want you to do is get that fucking English spook off of me and my kids. What's his name, Remington Steele...
GRAHAM: Christopher Steele...
TRUMP: Yeah, that one, Christopher Steele, the dossier guy. Make it all go away. Make it all go away and I'll make sure you're the president in 2020. Don't worry about Pence either. I'll make sure that dud won't bother you. He's a fraud. Did you know that he spent nearly fifteen large in campaign money buying Franklin Mint Life of Christ collector plates...
GRAHAM: Uh, no I didn't... Donald, what you are asking me...
TRUMP: I'm not asking, I'm telling. Do it! Make sure that yokel Grassley stays on board too. He's a part of that deep state religious cult out in Arlington that throws the National Prayer Breakfast shindig every year. Tell him he can hold it at Trump International in D.C. from now on - he can have the Presidential Ballroom! - and I'll comp the whole god damned thing until Jesus Christ himself marches up Pennsylvania Ave leading Jack Pershing's US Army Band Trumpet Ensemble if he just makes that fuckin' dossier stop doing whatever it's fuckin' doing!
GRAHAM: Sir? Are you sure I will be president? I mean...
TRUMP: Believe me. I'm sure. I've never been so sure. I know I once said that you couldn't get elected dog catcher in South Carolina but who would want to be a dog catcher in the first place? Not you. I know the best people when I see 'em and you've got that presidential sparkle. Believe me. You'll be the second best president in history. It'll be like me #1, you #2, and John C. Calhoun #3. Can I count on you? Lindsey! Swear to me I can count on you.
GRAHAM: Yes sir, Mr. President, you have my word, you can count on me.
TRUMP: Good job. You're a great guy Lindsey. Take your sea shells and finish your putt. Drop that bad boy down the drain and we'll get out of here.
Mine's a gimme so I'll wait in the cart.
GRAHAM: Thank you sir.
BONUS TRACK:
Ivanka Trump whacks a golf ball while wearing high heels.
Rebekah "Becky Cookies" Mercer, daughter of Robert "Bobby Wallet"* Mercer, boss of the Mercer family, told the Washington Post that the Mercer family no longer has anything to do with Steve Bannon.
* The Mercer Family is often referred to as "The Wallet"
"My family and I, we doan know 'bout this Bannon guy no more. Not in many months anyway. My family, we like to help people out. But this guy? This frickin' guy. He's a degenerate gambler. He reaches out a while back and we try to help him out - he thinks he's a big earner, see - and he goes and puts all his money on some broke down nutso hillbilly gimp horse in Alabama and looses both his fuckin' shirts. Pazzo! The stupid bastard. And now we find out he's been sharing a table with some stranger and running his mouth... he's got a beef with this guy, gotta beef with that guy... who knows what else he's telling people. So do we support this gavone? What do you think?"
Despite these claims the Mercer's remain tied financially to the Bannon faction due to their interest in the Breitbart Social Club (Bannon holds onto a leadership chair at Breitbart) which the Mercer's are, or were, at one time, co-owners. The Mercer's deny any ownership role. Regardless both Bannon and Mercer share a common interest in the family's Alt-Right protection rackets operating within the GOP and often coordinated through Breitbart.
Rumor is a Mercer sit down will decide what to do about the "Bannon problem". So if I were Sloppy Steve I'd stay away from Umberto's Clam House at four in the morning.
~::~::~::~::~::~::~
Short List of TRUMP MOB PLAYERS to watch BOSSES BOSS: Donald J. Trump / "The Blowfish" - "Donny Two Scoops" - "Pussy Fingers"
UNDERBOSS: Mike Pence / "White Rabbit" - "Mikey Dormouse" - "The Apprentice"
CONSIGLIERI: Jared Kushner / "The In-Law" - "The International Jew" (status uncertain following ill advised hit attempt on FBI director)
STREET BOSS: John Kelly / "Lost Cause" - "Mr. Fix-it" - "The Gatekeeper" - "Headsman"
SHADOW BOSS: Vladimir Putin / "Uncle Koba" - "The Volunteer" - "The Raven" - "Puppet Master" - "Possum Face"
CAPOS Paul Manafort / "Paulie Laundry" (currently under indictment)
Stephen Bannon / "Stevie Undershirts" - "Stevie 2 Shirts" - "Bam Bam" - "Sloppy Steve" (rogue capo Breitbart faction)
Michael T. Flynn (Sr.) / "The Turk" - "The Abductor" - "Misha" (inactive / protected witness / awaiting sentencing)
Jeff Sessions / "Dixie Cup" - "The Imp" - "The Varmint"
Reince Priebus / "Scitzo" - "The Bug" (inactive / status undetermined)
Ivanka Trump / "The Corpse Bride" - "Ivanka the Terrible" - "Gold Brick"
Hope Hicks / "Untouchable" - "Sugardaughter"
SOLDIERS
Michael G. Flynn (Jr) - "Little Misha" - "Little Flynn" (son of Mike Flynn Sr. / under investigation / expected immunity)
Donald Trump Jr. - "Baby Don" - "Donny Egg" - "Donny No-chin"
Devin Nunes - "Houseplant"
George Papadopoulos - "Coffee Boy" - "Spurious George" (awaiting sentencing / protected witness)
Anthony Scaramucci - "The Ant" - "Tony Lips" - "Tony Shade" (former Trump family Messaggero)
Sebastian Gorka - "Luka" - "The Hunkie" - "Cabbage Breath" - "Sour Kraut" (Bannon alt-right crew)
Keith Schiller - "Lurch" (former Trump Sr. bodyguard/security director.)
Stephen Miller - "Pee Wee" - "Slithering Steve" (status: possible advancement following assault on cable television news host)
ASSOCIATED (of interest)
Roger Stone - "Tricky Dick" - "Jolly Roger" - "Zippy" (for his resemblance to the comic book character Zippy the Pinhead)
Julian Assange - "Pigeon" or "Pigeon Coop" - "Mr. October" - "The Ass Hole" and "Massange Parlor" (references to the Ecuadorian embassy in London where Assange resides)
Bijan Kian - "The Bald Persian" / (Flynn Sr.'s business partner)
Rick Gates - "Bloc Party" / Manafort lieutenant and business partner (indicted)
WANNABE
Carter Page - "Gabby"
HISTORICAL NOTE
Roy Cohn - Post mortem paragon and old clubbing buddy of Don Trump. A former member of the John Birch Society. Defended Gambino crew members John Gotti and Angelo Ruggiero against murder charges in 1973.
Stephen Bannon reportedly fled the White House for the safety of Robert Mercer's Kehlsteinhaus. What is that? Think of it as some kind of shadowy secretive elite wingnut DEEP STATE hidey-hole lodge administered by Breitbart-dot-com sugar daddy Robert "deep pockets" Mercer and his daughter Rebekah (who was also a member of Trump's transition team executive committee).
According to Newsmax landlord Christopher Ruddy Rebekah Mercer is "the First Lady of the alt-right". She's the Bride of Pepe. See The Reclusive Hedge Fund Tycoon Behind the Trump Presidency; How Robert Mercer exploited America's populist insurgency, by Jane Mayer; New Yorker magazine, March, 2017. HERE
Being the Bride of Pepe comes with its own rewards and responsibilities and "Bekah" apparently lobbied on behalf of the Bannon, to spare him from White House Chief of Staff John Kelly's swamp axe, but to no avail. Sad.
But not so sad too! Because the Bride of Pepe comes with a substantial dowry which Pepe will undoubtedly hand over to Bannon as tribute as soon as Bannon returns to Hollywood. The freak show must go on afterall and a dumb looking cartoon frog with the emotional constitution of a fifteen year old Nazi crank whore won't get in the way of experienced blockleiters like Steve Bannon and Bekah Mercer. No siree. So don't get cute with the Wingnut Deep State elite, frog clown, or your well endowed bride will strangle you in your deep sleep with your own tongue.
I think it's safe to say that by now the dirty Bannon has returned to his old roosting cavity at Breitbart where he can continue to perfect, if Smoochie Scaramucci can be believed, the tantric art of auto fellatio. And, should all go as envisaged, in time, become one with the Godhead thus thrusting himself onto the mystical stage of the traditional uranic Superman. Or something.
Something we are told to do with bellowing about snooty elites and globalists (except for the globalist elites who give him lots of money) or whatever it is that keeps him up tossing and turning on his bed of straw every night. In any case he'll be back at Breitbart waging populist jihad in no time. As of this writing it is being reported that he has already arrived. Plucked from the swamp and dropped back into his old fighting chair. As if someone had fished a fat natterjack bufo toad from the wetlands of the Potomac and flung it back into the old mucky bucket of sludge it hopped out of in the first place.
Speaking of fishing: Bannon kind of reminds me of Roberto Farinacci the deranged Italian fascist local squadrismo (Blackshirt) leader who lost his right hand while fishing with a grenade. The kind of fishing trip only an Italian Futurist (or maybe Ted Nugent) could appreciate.
Farnacci thought Mussolini was to much of a squish and posed a challenge to the Duce's leadership of the Fascist Party in the mid 1920s when Mussolini decided to concentrate his power by folding the unruly local Fascist Blackshirt squads into the National Militia.
By now there was a widespread opinion that the only way to have a "moderate" Fascism, envisaged as an alternative to the extremism of men like Farinacci and the ras, was to place power entirely in Mussolini's hands and follow on behind - wherever his impulses and decisions and extravagant behavior led. ~ (Il Duce and his Women; Mussolini's Rise to Power, by Roberto Olla)
Note: A ras being a high ranking member of the National Fascist Party as well as a local province leader. Farinacci was the ras of Cremona.
And where do you think Donald Trump's impulses and extravagant behavior might lead now? Who knows. Maybe he'll hire Joseph Farah as Chief Strategist. Is he available or is he still in Hawaii looking for Obama's birth certificate? Is Pat Buchanan looking for work? Is Pat Buchanan still alive? What about Frederick Douglas? Is he looking for more recognition? Someone get this golf cart out of the weeds!
"The Trump presidency that we fought for, and won, is over." - Stephen Bannon
What he means is that the Steve Bannon presidency is over. The Trump presidency, whatever that is, will now emerge from the twisted steaming wreckage that it has become and stumble dumbstruck and half-ass backwards right into the path of a speeding tractor trailer... driven by Steve Bannon.
Donald Trump speaking to an audience in North Charleston, South Carolina, February 2016:
"He [Pershing] took 50 bullets, and he dipped them in pigs’ blood. And he had his men load his rifles, and he lined up the 50 people, and they shot 49 of those people. And the 50th person, he said: 'You go back to your people, and you tell them what happened.' And for 25 years, there wasn’t a problem. OK? Twenty-five years, there wasn’t a problem,"
I don't know where Trump got this story - maybe he got it from one of the traveling meme salesmen who like to visit him at the golf course or his parapet in Manhattan - I dunno. It doesn't really matter. The story is bunk regardless. An example of fake history.
What follows is an account of the incident, which Trump misrepresents, excerpted from Black Jack Pershing, by Richard O'Connor; Doubleday & Company, NY, 1961.
[Pages 62 - 63]
Despite all his diplomacy and hospitality, a number of sultans in the lake region refused to come in and parley with Pershing. The sultans of Maciu, of Bacolod, of Bayabao, and of Calabui, and the lesser datus and panglimas who sympathized with them, now saw quite clearly that their authority over the tribes would be sharply reduced if they submitted to the Sultan of Camp Vicars. They had no intention of sharing their ancient powers with an American officer. It was time to discourage his attempts to pacify the lake country.
He was not easily dissuaded that peaceful methods would work and even used what must have seemed like white witchcraft to impress the natives. A number of Moro chiefs, on the verge of warring among themselves, were summoned to a peace conference but balked at signing a treaty. Pershing ordered his aides to bring in an Edison "talking machine," which had just been developed and put on the market back in the States. Helen Gould, the daughter of financier Jay Gould, had purchased ten of the machines and presented them to the Army for recreational purposes. One of these had been sent to the Philippines and was passed along, by coastal steamer and pack train, to Camp Vicars.
Pershing played a musical selection, which only bored the Moros, who regarded tjieir own gong, cymbal, and bamboo flute music as superior. Then he put a cylinder titled "A Day at the Farm" on the machine. The sounds of an American barnyard delighted his guests, but they still refused to sign the treaty.
Pershing nodded to another officer, and a moment later two order- lies appeared. One carried a dead pig, the other a bucket of pig's blood. More than anything else, the Moros feared contamination by a pig, which would bar them from the Mohammedan heaven. Pershing scooped up a dipper of the blood, enough to spatter the whole assemblage, then pointed to the treaty. There was no further argument from the chiefs. One by one they stepped forward and agreed to the treaty.
These various techniques, friendly and forcible, proved their value in the hard campaigning ahead. Pershing had only 700 men under his command and could have been wiped out in the coming year of marching and fighting if the thousands of Malanaos in the lake districts decided to rise up against him.
Apparently this did not completely solve the problem of Moro attacks against Pershing and his men and so, on pages 68-69, we read this:
Accompanied by an escort of infantry and a battery of artillery, Pershing smilingly presented himself at the Sultan of Bayan's craggy headquarters. Since there was no gate in the fort, he and his companions had to climb over the walls on ladders. Once there, he raised the United States flag over the fort and fired a twenty-one gun salute. The Moros were especially impressed with the booming artillery, as Pershing had intended. The sultan, no less impressed, asked Pershing to become the adopted father of his wife. Pershing also adopted four children of the tribe, one of whom he described as "a bright, clean little fellow who has the airs of a Prince of Wales."
Before the visit ended, the sultan and his court decided that an unprecedented honor should be conferred upon Pershing. He was to be consecrated a datu "by the law and rites of the Koran," making him a tribal chieftain, blood relative, and counselor of the Moros of Bayan. Never before and never again would a Christian be made a Moslem prince. With a grave, Moro-like dignity, he submitted himself to the consecration ceremony, possibly wondering what his old Sundayschool teacher in Laclede would have thought of him in that heathen circle.
Pershing, as one of his officers observed, "unflinchingly returned the embrace and kiss on each cheek of the Datu Sadji," even though the datu "had a thick black beard and chewed betel nut . . . and some of the juice thereof had trickled into his beard." There were no comic overtones, however, in Pershing's own account of the Moslem ceremony:
"Each sultan and datu, with his prominent followers in his rear, sat on his heels, the whole forming a circle. The sacred Koran was placed on a mat of native fiber in the center of this circle, guarded by an aged Mohammedan priest, gorgeous in trousers of all colors and a yellow silk upper garment, over whose head a slave held a beautiful silk sunshade. Silver boxes, beautifully engraved, containing betel nut were passed around the circle and then the speechmaking began, each chief in turn giving his opinion. ... At the conclusion, all the rulers
and myself, placing our hands upon the Koran, registered a vow of eternal friendship, allegiance to the United States, and agreed upon a cessation of warfare against each other."
On his return to Camp Vicars, Pershing was so exhilarated by his bloodless victory at Bayan, and more especially by his new rank of datu, that he wrote of his many Moro friendships, "If I should say: 'Go and kill this man or that,' the next day they would appear in camp with his head." From the Manila Times he clipped an editorial praising him for "having won the submission of Bayan through diplomacy" and having acquired a "distinction never before enjoyed by an American."
Well that's a lot different than the story Donald tells isn't it?
On pages 93 and 94 O'Connor's describes an alternative plan of action offered to Pershing with respect to the Moros. A method Pershing rejected in favor of the more diplomatic approach.
General Bliss, commanding the Philippine Division, suggested to Pershing on May 23, 1911, that he adopt the methods used by the British in India to deal with Mohammedan fanaticism. Juramentados, Bliss recommended, should be buried with the carcass of a pig or encased in a pigskin, which meant to any Mohammedan that he would spend eternity in a state of contamination. "This I think a good plan, for if anything will discourage the juramentado it is the prospect of going to hell instead of heaven," Bliss wrote. He recognized that there
might be an outcry of protest from humanitarians over such a measure, but "you can rely on me to stand by you in maintaining this custom. It is the only possible thing we can do to discourage crazy fanatics."
Pershing, however, realized that General Bliss's suggestion, while ingenious, might arouse an enduring bitterness among the whole Moro population. The British in India, for all their condign punishments, including the practice of shooting natives out of cannon, had never managed to rule except by the exercise of force, and he was intent on conciliating the Moros to the extent that they could soon be handed over to civilian administrators.
His approach was paternalistic and would probably have seemed to verge on the maudlin to any proper British colonial officer. It was exemplified by a letter he wrote the Moros of the Taglibi district on Jolo: "I am writing this letter that you may know that I want my children to come in and stop fighting. We do not want any more fighting. Too many Moros and their women may be killed. . . . These guns are not worth fighting for. . . . Your people are better off not to have these guns as we can then have peace in the island. The government will pay for all guns. ... If your people need rice to eat, the government will give it to them. . . . I want to see all of my people and speak to them so that we may forever be friends."
The letter was one of several he collected years later for the memoir of his early career that was never published. "This letter," he later wrote on the top of it, "might be interesting to quote to show simplicity required."
Chicago Tribune, August 31, 1927:
ENTER: BLACK JACK
It was into such a situation as [unreadable] then, that Gen. Pershing, then known to the army as "Black Jack" Pershing stepped when he was sent down to subdue the Moros. The story of how he stopped the Juramentados from running amuck [sic], with knives strapped to their hands, and killing as many Christians as possible before they themselves were slain, is well known.
For each Christian they killed they believed they received higher rewards in the after life. By the same token they thought that if they ever were sprinkled with pig's blood they were doomed forever to their own particular hell. With much ceremony Pershing sprinkled some with pig's blood and let them go. Then he announced that any Juramentado thereafter would be sprinkled with pig's blood. And those drops of porcine gore proved more powerful than bullets.
Donald J. Trump should follow his own advice and study what General Pershing of the United States did before he starts jabbering about what he didn't do.
Simplicity provided: the complete text of Black Jack Pershing, by Richard O'Connor can be found at Archive.org - HERE
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