Old Money

A well-meaning geriatric (financial) supporter of my mission adventures and anti-terrorism efforts recently asked me if I would consider taking out that lunatic atheist who has ruined the once magnificent colony founded by Cecil John Rhodes. By the way, all the indigenous peoples around the world who bleat about being there before the holy white man arrived, suck it up, okay. As I've said before, all is fair in love and war.

I told the wrinkled old prune of a woman that I may consider an assassination attempt, but what's the point of taking over that country again when all the whites have already left. I guess I could help to launch a Christian political party that would resurrect their pitiful economy and entice whites back with promises of land and nice new churches and plenty of segregated privileges. But the West has become so liberal, I'm not sure this is a realistic vision. Best to leave history to play itself out. One day, when Africa is no longer the Dark Continent and most of its peoples have died because of Aids and wars, clever and more civilized whites can repopulate the continent in a modern Voortrekker era that will usher in the thousand year reign of God's people.

I promised to look into it and take a few containers of food, Bibles and other tools of our trade, while scouting for opportunities to take out the idiot of all dictators.

She took out her cheque book and immediately handed me a wacking sum of money.

Well, I'm off to the local gun shop to buy a few more toys with this gracious donation to my cause. Then I'll be stopping off outside the warehouse that used to house a disgusting adult perversion outlet. They've closed down thanks to my persistent protests. The den of iniquity has been bought over by a giant child toy franchise. My youngest broke one of his many toy guns the other day, so I'll also pick him out something intimidating to act out his manly aggression in the garden.

Fight the good fight.