By Colby Malsbury

Hey, everybody! Welcome to a brand-new decade!

What’s on tap for the Roaring Twenties 2.0? Given the latest hysterical historical revisionism making its way to the top of the Outrage Charts, more of the same manufactured SJW angst that made the previous ten years such a delight to endure. Weren’t we supposed to be having Disney cruises to Mars by now?

And just as the perceived entry of hundred year old books, songs, and movies into the public domain often elicits a renewed interest in their contents (though the actual time frame is ninety-five years), so too do the centenaries of past ‘injustices’ elicit a renewed outburst of indignation from professional meddlesome Care Bears. The only thing easier than pouring forth one’s heart towards ethnic strangers afar off is to do so towards ethnic strangers afar off and dead long before one’s grandparents were born. In that spirit, the closing months of 2019 saw the seedbed being prepared for a crop of poisonous forget-me-nots commemorating the Tulsa Race Massacre of May-June 1921. Interestingly enough, the event was better known as the Tulsa Race Riots for decades, but as blacks historically possess the unsavory proclivity towards anarchy during tense periods the moniker was duly altered to its current exploitative form. Doubtless the new name is also meant to covey impressions of that old paean to white inhumanity The Texas Chainsaw Massacre – especially given how Oklahoma is indistinguishable from Texas to your average Left Coaster. When the game is semantics, the play is always based on cutthroat poker rather than Go Fish.

So, what precisely went down on that blackest of days? (Oops!) Well, it’s not hard to find out the official narrative, since internet bandwidth is considerably slowed by the plethora of hack pieces parroting the official communique released by the Ministry of Truth. As all of these screeds are interchangeable, the one proffered by the Oklahoma Historical Society serves as well as any of them:

…an incident involving Dick Rowland, an African American shoe shiner, and Sarah Page, a white elevator operator, would set the stage for tragedy. While it is still uncertain as to precisely what happened in the Drexel Building on May 30, 1921, the most common explanation is that Rowland stepped on Page’s foot as he entered the elevator, causing her to scream.

The next day, however, the Tulsa Tribune, the city’s afternoon daily newspaper, reported that Rowland, who had been picked up by police, had attempted to rape Page. Moreover, according to eyewitnesses, the Tribune also published a now-lost editorial about the incident, titled “To Lynch Negro Tonight.” By early evening there was, once again, lynch talk on the streets of Tulsa.

Talk soon turned to action. By 7:30 p.m. hundreds of whites had gathered outside the Tulsa County Courthouse, demanding that the authorities hand over Dick Rowland, but the sheriff refused. At about 9 p.m., after reports of the dire conditions downtown reached Greenwood, a group of approximately twenty-five armed African American men, many of them World War I veterans, went down to the courthouse and offered their services to the authorities to help protect Rowland. The sheriff, however, turned them down, and the men returned to Greenwood. Stunned, and then enraged, members of the white mob then tried to break into the National Guard armory but were turned away by a handful of local guardsmen. At about 10 p.m. a false rumor hit Greenwood that whites were storming the courthouse. This time, a second contingent of African American men, perhaps seventy-five in number, went back to the courthouse and offered their services to the authorities. Once again, they were turned down. As they were leaving, a white man tried to disarm a black veteran, and a shot was fired. The riot began.

Over the next six hours Tulsa was plunged into chaos as angry whites, frustrated over the failed lynching, began to vent their rage at African Americans in general. Furious fighting erupted along the Frisco railroad tracks, where black defenders were able to hold off members of the white mob. An unarmed African American man was murdered inside a downtown movie theater, while carloads of armed whites began making “drive-by” shootings in black residential neighborhoods. By midnight fires had been set along the edge of the African American commercial district. In some of the city’s all-night cafes, whites began to organize for a dawn invasion of Greenwood.

During the early hours of the conflict local authorities did little to stem the growing crisis. Indeed, shortly after the outbreak of gunfire at the courthouse, Tulsa police officers deputized former members of the lynch mob and, according to an eyewitness, instructed them to “get a gun and get a nigger.” Local units of the National Guard were mobilized, but they spent most of the night protecting a white neighborhood from a feared, but nonexistent, black counterattack.

Shortly before dawn on June 1, thousands of armed whites had gathered along the fringes of Greenwood. When daybreak came, they poured into the African American district, looting homes and businesses and setting them on fire. Numerous atrocities occurred, including the murder of A. C. Jackson, a renowned black surgeon, who was shot after he surrendered to a group of whites. At least one machine gun was utilized by the invading whites, and some participants have claimed that airplanes were also used in the attack.

Black Tulsans fought hard to protect their homes and businesses, with particularly sharp fighting occurring off of Standpipe Hill. In the end, they were simply outgunned and outnumbered. By the time that additional National Guard troops arrived in Tulsa at approximately 9:15 a.m. on the morning of June 1, most of Greenwood had already been put to the torch.

A brief period of martial law was followed by recriminations and legal maneuvering. Even though Dick Rowland was exonerated, an all-white grand jury blamed black Tulsans for the lawlessness. Despite overwhelming evidence, no whites were ever sent to prison for the murders and arson that occurred.

In case it isn’t obvious, this bare-bones summation is rife for ornamentation, like a spartan KFC outlet putting up Christmas (or seasonal, or holiday, or Festivus, or whatever) decorations. And rest assured: this story has already been fully augmented, and will only continue down that course. In large part, this has been done via the much-ballyhooed premiere of HBO’s Watchmen series in which the race riot (sorry…massacre) was the subject of the initial episode. Appropriately enough for a show dedicated to the presentation of a DC Comics’ alternate universe, the depiction of this black Shoah (Broah?) makes reference to all the more risible myths of the event – from a death toll in the thousands to the neighborhood of Greenwood being the ‘Black Wall Street’ of America due to its relative prosperity to the destruction of this veritable Easy Street being perpetrated, as mentioned in the preceding text, largely via biplane carpet-bombing (!!!) And why not? By the admission of even most liberals, this is not a widely-known event, taking place as it did within a cauldron of similar race riots throughout the Midwest and South fomented by the less-than-tip-top postwar demobilization of the armed forces and the license to plunder issued thereby. Ergo, Marxist revisionists are, for all intents and purposes, operating with a blank canvas. What modern art masterpiece will they be creating?

Well, to start with, how about a bogus forensic investigation? Lo and behold, completely divorced from the online chatter generated over how fleek Watchmen Episode 1 was, I am sure, we were treated to the bombshell revelation that a couple of hardscrabble patches – one found within a Tulsa cemetery – may contain the mass graves of the hundreds, or thousands, or hundreds of thousands, of the victims of this ultimate expression of Whitey Triumphant. Of course, given the live-streaming necessity of updating the vernacular within milliseconds, that all-important modifier may was quickly dropped, to be replaced by the journalistic certainty of is, in classic Katyn Forest fashion. Gee, that’s funny. Oklahoma archaeologists have been able to excavate the likes of centuries-old Indian fortresses constructed by long-extinct tribes, yet the presence of a sizable chunk of unmarked ground, supposedly containing the mass casualties of a relatively recent spree, in an urban cemetery yet, entirely escaped their notice? Had anyone ever noticed this discrepancy when purchasing burial plots? Why put one mass grave in such a conspicuous locale, when the other was found in a wooded area outside the city limits? And what proof do we have that these are indeed Negroid remains, rather than the common burial mounds of Indians – a not at all uncommon phenomenon found in Western states, even in graveyards – or anonymous casualties of, say, the Spanish influenza epidemic of 1919…which even the linked New York Times article admits is a possibility? Nay, this is nothing but straight conjecture, and not even particularly well thought out. It has all the earmarks of an outrage story designed to burn up the Twitter feed and garner a trending hashtag. If this is how the Midwest covers up its atrocities, I would say that their talents definitely lie elsewhere….though not in the field of perceptive topography, either.

But hey – the ‘mass graves’ narrative is no more of a plot point of absurdist surrealism than any of the other howlers that Propriety (whatever that means these days) demand we accept as incontrovertible facts. Take the death count as an example. Officially, thirty-seven death certificates related to the riot were issued – twenty-five of them for blacks. A very specific and verifiable number, yet one paltry enough not to cause undue outrage, hence unacceptable. Thus, historians pining for tenure and book contracts have upped the death totals to ‘as many as’ three hundred people – interestingly enough, not differentiating between white and black victims but clearly laying the onus of responsibility on the honky mo-fo’s, with their Klan robes and frontier marksmanship and whatnot. Between 37 and 300 deaths in itself is a laughably divergent range, but even the upper figure will not suffice for your average race hustler. After all, what is three hundred slain? That many youfs were gunned down in East St. Louis just this past week! So that ‘as many as’ 300 must be emended to ‘at least’ 300, and eminently scholarly memes must be concocted to hammer the new, and totally legit, range into racist pin heads:

Alas, as Six Million is a copyrighted figure, it cannot be used in any reparation litigation. But it’s the thought that counts, and you had better be making the proper allegorical connections if you doan wanna cap busted uppa in yo ass, G!

And what of this vaunted neighborhood of Greenwood, the ‘Black Wall Street’? A rather incongruous name for a suburb that contained no financial brokerage firms at all, but I digress. It was a typically prosperous area of Oklahoma at the time, when the heady days of the state’s early oil boom had not yet waned, and drillers were desperate to get their hands on as many men as they could get for top-notch wages…not excluding blacks. All hands on deck, after all. But therein lies a dilemma: how can a prosperous segregated black neighborhood possibly be shoehorned into the established mantra that all such areas were pestilential slums deliberately designed to keep proud Wakanda down? Awkward, but not insurmountable – just maintain that the Man went on a jealous orgy and wiped out the whole kit ‘n kaboodle. Except….given the sketchiness of the on-the-ground reportage of the chaos (notice how, in all accounts of the riots, words like ‘alleged’, ‘perhaps’, and ‘claimed’ make appearances over and over and over again?) there is no reason to automatically presume Greenwood’s devastation was largely due to white culpability, especially given the renowned black tendency to go on a lustful feral bender of destruction whenever they spot something fancy in the public square. And while the Oklahoma Historical Society might lament a lost rayciss editorial from the Tulsa Tribune, I’m sure they can take solace in another newspaper article that has fortunately survived intact: one from the Morning Tulsa Daily World in which a ‘Negro Deputy Sheriff’ (wait…whah?? I thought the seventy-five African American men who offered their services to the bigoted sheriff were brusquely turned away en masse?) affixed blame to a ‘Black Dope-Head for inciting His Race into Rioting Here.’ That’s a direct quote, folks. Wonder if this honest fellow was ever called as a witness at the trial, and if so I wonder how much his testimony swayed the jurors’ verdict? But as inveterate haters of the sons of Nubia, I’m sure they would have shut their ears to anything he had to say instinctively, of course.

And what of those insidious planes – those first generation Flying Fortresses that apparently taught Arthur ‘Bomber’ Harris and Curtis LeMay everything they knew? Let us give the weavers of the fairy tale their due and admit planes certainly were involved in the melee – enough eyewitness accounts corroborate their presence. But to what end? Given the widespread nature of the rioting, it would seem far more likely that they were used in the service of observing events in real time rather than mass slaughter – horses and Model T’s not being able to burst through mobs of rampaging Negroes with the required dexterity and power required to get the police to necessary sectors for reporting purposes. But let’s play devil’s advocate and presume that the authorities were so consumed with insane hatred towards blacks that they would have gleefully dropped TNT upon their persons and property. We’re not dealing with precision drone strike technology here. It stretches all credibility to think that a few biplanes dropping crude percussion bombs not far removed from the classic cannonball could have razed the entirety of Greenwood to the ground. Zeppelins were used for that purpose in the First World War, and even the Left has not stooped to incorporating them into the Tulsa narrative….yet. Plus, are we to believe that the white citizenry would have stood idly by while no doubt a goodly amount of collateral damage was visited on their adjoining houses and businesses from these raids? Fat chance, in an era when the precepts of Posse Comitatus still were held with the utmost gravity…by local law enforcement most of all. Given all these qualifiers, even the official narratives of Tulsa are understandably reticent when it comes to the Legend of the Planes. The Tulsa Historical Society does not mention planes at all on its page of the event, while the Oklahoma Historical Society only says some residents claimed airplanes had been used – in the manner of any historian describing the rumors that were rife during the event he is writing of, and that were later shown to be fraudulent. The ludicrousness of this gory detail is obviously designed to appeal to historically illiterate Millennials and Zers who can’t fathom why anyone would desire to be away from his smart device for a half hour (or more!!!) at a stretch, let alone grasp the limitations of antique aerial offensive tactics. But, hey – whatever it takes to get them out on the street to screech about ‘injustice’ and ‘days of reckoning’, I guess.

It’s difficult to perceive how anyone with half a brain would ever swallow all of this incendiary drivel as historical truth. However, there is one brainless institution that has jumped aboard the Good Ship Grievance nice and early and adopted it wholeheartedly…..the Church, of course!!! A typical example of the eloquent harmatiological acumen displayed by the Church regarding Tulsa can be found in this piece of treacle written by Wade Burleson, former president of the Baptist Theological Convention of Oklahoma and current apologist for Communism in its several manifest forms at the SBC. Burleson basically expostulates on the existential angst that befell him upon first reading about the alleged mass graves of Tulsa – in the manner of a kid traumatized over his first nocturnal emission, and boy, isn’t the rest of the world just going to have to hear all about it! – and proffering nauseating affirmations of ‘solidarity’ with the victims, in the manner of ‘We are all slaves, Jews, transgenders, dolphins, etc now.’ And, true to SBC form, he buttresses his ‘I care!!!’ credentials with an irrelevant segue three-quarters of the way through the piece to offer a ham-fisted comparison towards the plight of blacks in 1920s Oklahoma with the plight of women in Baptist pulpits of the 2020s, with a sickly mewl of ‘something must be done to fix all these problems!’ to cap off this courageous call to arms. Bravo, Modern Tyndale! You have amply demonstrated why I haven’t taken anything the clergy has to say seriously for years now, and why I should only continue to do so! It’s only what any Christian ought to do. Oh, and have you started shaving yet?

However, let us take an example from his non-sequitur. For this is entirely what the Tulsa Race Massacre itself is – one gigantic Non-Sequitur of half-truths, hyperbole, and divination designed to provoke a visceral response – which in turn will provoke short-sighted acts of petulant rage and thus contribute to the Great Dispossession which shall continue upon its merry way unimpeded throughout the remainder of this decade. Mission accomplished. Expect NWO lackeys like Tim Keller, Beth Moore, Joel McDurmon, Steven Furtick, Al Mohler, et al to pimp this fabricated nonsense around the clock in the coming months.

Now let’s just pray they don’t get wind of the race riot that left ‘800 dead’ in Ocoee, Florida on Election Day of 1920….