While cultural elites who comprise the Racism-Industrial-Complex (RIC) and the countless others who they’ve succeeded in either brainwashing or intimidating peddle the Big Lie that blacks are perpetual victims of “systemic racism,” some especially brave people refuse to be cowed.
They insist upon telling the truth, however ugly that truth may be.
Colin Flaherty is one such person. A career investigative journalist who has won (literally) dozens of awards for his work, there is scarcely a prominent publication throughout the world for which Flaherty hasn’t written at some point. The Boston Globe, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Boston Globe, Miami Herald, Washington Post, Bloomberg Business Week, San Diego Union-Tribune, and Time are among the 1,000 outfits that have featured his work.
Years ago it was Flaherty’s determination and investigative prowess that resulted in the release from jail of a black man who had been wrongly arrested and incarcerated for having allegedly beaten the white woman who he had been seeing. The latter, as it turned out, attempted to frame her ex. NPR is among the left-leaning organizations that lavished praise upon Flaherty.
Within the last decade or so, Flaherty, the last of the true investigative journalists that he is, decided to turn his attention to the sorely underreported subject of black criminality, black violence, and, specifically, black racial animus. His first book on the topic, White Girl Bleed A lot, elicited universal praise from such conservative luminaries as Thomas Sowell (through whose review I first learned of Flaherty), Jesse Lee Peterson, Allen West, and many others whose names readers of this column will know well.
Since this time, Flaherty authored a second book on this theme (which I reviewed here) and countless articles. He also is the host of a wildly successful podcast: every day, and sometimes multiple times a day, he refers his audience to local news accounts of black criminality from towns and cities around the country. Without “racism, rancor, or apology,” Flaherty’s mission is to “expose” two things: (1) “the Greatest Lie of our generation,” the lie of “black victimization and relentless white racism”; and (2) the “denial, deceit, and delusion” of our political and media elites when it comes to (1).
Last month, as Black Lives Matter-related violence erupted in cities throughout the country, Flaherty decided to use his platform to organize, but coyly, a rally of his own. He played things close to the vest.
And on June 22, a Monday afternoon, as if to send a message to the left that they aren’t the only ones that can employ these kinds of tactics, he and about 30 carloads of people from various states succeeded in shutting down one side of an interstate highway in Wilmington, Delaware.
They shut down a segment of the highway that is located within feet of the exit for Martin Luther King, Jr. Boulevard.
For approximately 45 minutes to an hour, passing motorists on the opposite side of the interstate were treated to Flaherty’s “Victims Matter” (VM) rally.
That’s right. Flaherty and his fellow demonstrators—all of whom were peaceful—defied the meaningless “Black Lives Matter” vs. “All Lives Matter” dichotomy by invoking the lives of the victims that have been lost to black criminals, and reminding people that, for as much as Big Media would like to forget about them, they matter.
The VM protesters carried signs with pictures and names of the victims, black and white:
David Dorn was a 77 year-old retired police captain and family man who was working part-time as a security officer guarding a pawn shop in St. Louis when, during the midst of the George Floyd riots, he was gunned down in cold blood by black looters (who ran a live, 13 minute Facebook stream of the incident). At least one person, thus far, has been arrested and charged with the shooting.
David Dorn: Say his name.
Paul and Lidia Marino, a couple in their mid-80s who were closing in on their 62nd wedding anniversary, visited their son’s gravesite at the Delaware Veterans’ Cemetery on an almost daily basis. Paul himself was a World War II veteran. In May, on a day that seemed unlike any other as they visited with their deceased son, a young black male walked up on them and put two bullets in their heads. The murderer was shortly after found dead himself.
Their son Ray commented: “My parents were in their 80s but they were very healthy and active. I thought they would die from natural causes someday—not be executed by a stranger in a cemetery.”
Paul and Lidia Marino: Say their names.
Wendy Martinez, a 35 year-old woman who, but six days after celebrating with her family and friend her wedding engagement, was stabbed to death by a black male while she proceeded to go for a run in a Washington D.C. park. In court, while her family members tearfully attested to just how beloved Wendy was to those who knew her, her killer—Anthony Crawford rocked in his chair and even smiled.
Wendy Martinez: Say her name.
There are still so many other victims to black violence, innocents, the vulnerable, whose lives were disposed of in the most barbaric of ways. Regrettably, given space constraints, we can here do little else than, well, say their names.
Channon Christian and Christopher Newsom: In their early 20s, they were carjacked, tortured, raped, and murdered.
Say their names.
Jourdan Bobbish and Jacob Kudla: Teenagers who were tortured and murdered.
Say their names.
Karina Vetrano: Attacked, sexually assaulted, and strangled to death while jogging.
Say her name.
Paul Monchnik: A 91 year-old World War II veteran who was beaten to death in his own home and then set on a fire.
Say his name.
Phil Trenary: Treasury of Chamber of Commerce in Memphis who was trying to rejuvenate the city’s economic life and who was murdered, shot, execution-style, in the back of his head as he walked home one night.
Say his name.
There are still others:
Say their names.
The names that the VM protesters called out constitute but the tiniest fraction of the names of people, of all races, whose lives have been extinguished or otherwise made to suffer courtesy of black violent offenders (and, by implication, their enablers throughout our political and cultural institutions).
Edmund Burke memorably remarked that the only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. This being said, one thing is for certain:
Colin Flaherty, for spearheading a demonstration to affirm forgotten victims of violent criminals, is one hell of a good man who is doing his part to stop evil.
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