Colin Flaherty – nekrologer

The evil that men do lives after them. Unless they are part of, or useful to, the Woke Ruling Class—in which case all is forgiven.

That introductory line is fitting for several reasons. Colin Flaherty was an afficionado of Shakespeare, from whom the line is stolen. And he loved to point out the hypocrisy of the far-Left media, which beatified their martyrs like “St. George of Floyd” and “St. Michael of Brown” while excommunicating Thomas Jefferson and even Abraham Lincoln. And him, and countless others.

Finally, it’s fitting because in the coming year we should expect to see a deluge of celebration and schadenfreude from the Main Stream Media, gleefully noting the passing of another old white guy without any self-awareness or even a hint that they’re just validating the ironic observations of both Mark Antony and Mr. Flaherty.

Colin Flaherty, an award-winning journalist and best-selling author whose career spanned over four decades, died on Tuesday at home, surrounded by friends and family. The cause was cancer, a family member said.

Læs den her

“Rest In Peace, Big Man.” Colin Flaherty And Black Crime—The Biggest Lie Of Our Generation For more than a decade, I knew every time I called Colin Flaherty, he’d answer with: “Big Man! Whatcha got for me today?” There was never a phone call that failed to start out this way, with enthusiasm in his voice so infectious I still smile when thinking about how he’d draw out the “ig” portion of “big” in his distinctive Tidewater accent.“ Avuncular” would be the way to describe him: he remembered details of our last conversation and would then inquire about the latest happenings in my life as if he had been there as an intimate observer. That’s why, when he called one day in the spring of 2020, the surprise of not being greeted with that oh-so-familiar salutation meant I immediately knew something was wrong.For those who had watched Colin’s videos about black-on-white crime over the years, it had become obvious something was impacting his health. His face was thinning out and his Falstaffian frame seemed to be shrinking.Though the Churchillian cigar still protruded from his lips as he spoke effortlessly about the latest example of black mob violence and the corporate media’s attempt to obfuscate what was happening, it was alarming to see the physical deterioration of this man who embodied courage and tenacity throughout his life. We chatted about the Ahmaud Arbery hysteria, wondering if this would be the powder keg carefully placed by the corporate media every election year to blast out the Democrat turnout-boosting theme of perpetual black victimization (which Colin had correctly noted was the Biggest Lie Of Our Generation). Then he just blurted it out: “I’m not sure if I’m going to make much longer, Big Man.”I don’t recall much of what he said next. The shock of a good friend telling me about a disease he wouldn’t beat was too great.There was a long pause when he finished. He asked: “Are you still there?”Throughout the insanity of the subsequent Covid lockdowns (“two weeks to stop the spread”) and the overreaction to a virus that 99% of victims survive, I still reflect back on that day as the defining moment of the past two years.In many ways, I’m still without words for how to answer Flaherty’s question. When the George Floyd apotheosis happened a month later, and that particular powder keg of anti-white animosity exploded in an orgy of violence, looting, burning and lawlessness—enhanced by academia, Corporate America and of course the corporate media—I ventured into the heart of Richmond, VA.Walking around that city, with the smoke of the night before from cars and burnt buildings still pungent in the air, I reached the great Robert E. Lee monument, completely desecrated with anti-white  slogans and the acronym “ACAB.” ACAB—”All Cops Are Bastards.” The past was being erased in real time, because what Flaherty had called the Biggest Lie of our generation—that of black victimization—had set off a mighty conflagration of anti-white insurrection across America.Standing at a monument to one of America’s greatest heroes, later torn down in celebration of the George Floyd Hoax, I was doing everything I could to fight back tears. Then, in one of those serendipitous moments, my cell phone rang. It was Colin.He was calling to apologize for declining to go on American Renaissance podcasts with Jared Taylor until only a year or two prior. He had had a corporate media career—but now, seeing what was unfolding across America, he felt he had been too cautious.Here was a man who had written two seminal works of the last decade—White Girl Bleed A Lot and Don’t Make the Black Kids Angry—apologizing, at the end of his life, for lacking courage—when so many others had failed to speak up at all.And here I stood at the base of a monument to a hero of my ancestors, whose every action in life was for his posterity, desecrated with a noose hung around its neck, thinking about the cost of silence in an age where obedience to the greatest lie of our generation is mandatory.For the better of a decade, Colin and I had engaged in a battle on conservative websites to promote the truth about out-of-control black violence, and the denial, deceit and delusion the corporate media waged to suppress reality. He was the visible face, fearless in YouTube videos and writing repeated articles picked up by the Drudge Report   and broadcast to tens of millions during the Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown and Late Obama Era. He told me that in 2014, Google even threatened to demonetize WND if all ads weren’t removed from Colin’s pieces, because they drove so much traffic. (Subsequently, Google has cut off WND anyway.) That led Colin to self-publish his second book, Don’t Make the Black Kids Angry.After a moment of uncomfortable silence, I told Colin where I was and how he didn’t need to apologize for anything. He knew I was a Southerner. And he was also aware of the professional costs I had assumed to support him.“You could have stopped at any time,” he told me.“ Did you?” was my only response. The Robert E. Lee statue, dedicated in 1890, is now gone. But the memory of the conversation that happened in its shadow that dark Sunday after Memorial Day 2020 will not be forgotten.I said: “You can’t stop. You know how many people you have inspired. Including me.”In that moment, it was okay to let the tears flow. Read the rest here.  P.S.  And check out this article in Frontpagemag.com. It is about good ol’ Colin and the Victims of Black Crime and Violence.  P.S. And if you are a Zelle person, you can drop a few coins in the cup in my Zelle account at colin@colinflaherty.com P.P.S. (AND IF YOU ARE FEELING GENEROUS, WE NOW TAKE Apple Pay!!! JUST ZAP ME A FEW COINS AT MY PHONE AT 619-379-6156.) And we have a replacement for PayPal! SubscribeStar. Contribute here or click on the pic!                            p.s. Let me hear from you!!!!