On The Donald Sterling Fiasco

The following copied and pasted from a text conversation I was having with a group of friends regarding Donald Sterling, who has become a household name in a matter of days for his thought crime.


Let me say this last thing about D Sterl since I was absent from your guys’s LINE conversation, the one that effectively extinguished any hopes of Kirbles’s ever becoming a lawyer, or just a good debater, for that matter. (Sorry, Kirbles. At least you got that baseball job on lock, though.) I should also say it here instead of on Facebook, lest the holier-than-thou masses crucify me one keyboard caps lock at a time.

Straight fucking up, D Sterl is my guy. And I’m not defending him legally, as Kirbles did or as other people will be prone to doing. This man has my support morally, or amorally to be more precise, because that’s exactly the existential waters we find ourselves treading in. Right now the whole fucking world is trying to act like it’s never held even a single racist thought its entire life. That means the hypocrites are out there in swelling numbers, spewing the doctrine, condemning singular acts that even hint at another’s failing to outright love racial minorities, gays, and of course, the ever-oppressed group known as women, to the point of knee dropping and deepthroating. These are the very same hypocrites who get that unmistakable “oh shit” feeling in their stomachs any time they have to pass through a sea of black dudes posted on the street after 9 p.m. This Sterling blow up has me wishing there were more racists in the world (in word, not in deed), just to piss the fuck off of these self-righteous wannabe Martin Luther Kings Juniors who, in reality, more closely resemble a bag of dog shit.

“Sterling is a racist!” So what? This guy is literally the team fucking owner. In a perfect world, he should be able to do whatever he pleases in regards to his squad. If that means running onto the court during Game 6 mid-contest, dropping a deuce, and dunking it into the Clippers’ basket for negative two points, that should be his prerogative (contractual agreements and NBA basketball rules notwithstanding, of course.)

I also read that, a few years back, he discriminated against blacks and Hispanics trying to get housing. That’s called being a businessman, and not even necessarily a smart, savvy one either. Have any of these moral policing cunts ever tried to own residential property? Of course not. Not that I have either, but my pops owns two residential buildings in Brooklyn and I was there helping him out in 2012. What I learned was amazing. He was up to rim level in his tenant problems, the majority of which involved their failing to complete the simple agreed-upon task of paying their rent on time. They would delay for a month, two months, six months, sometimes over a fucking year. And as I also learned, it’s not at all easy to evict these fuckers because they’ve got the state government playing on their team. Officials are like, “Go fuck yourself. Nobody forced you to let them live in your building. This is your problem now. Deal with it.” Hard to believe but it’s true.

So why do you think a guy like D Sterl would discriminate? Because blacks and Hispanics are historically worse at paying their shit on time. (Truth hurts.) The reasons for this, whether just or unjust, are immaterial for a property owner’s consideration. It’s all a business transaction to him, and nothing else. He doesn’t want unnecessary tenant problems, and who can blame him? If the moral police had a thought in their tiny fucking brains and could put themselves in someone else’s shoes long enough to see past that (gasp!) an 80-year-old wrinkly man said he doesn’t want Magic Johnson in his arena—the one he literally owns—they might be able to see just how far up their asses their own heads are.