The self-described “race realist” is unrepentant in embracing the label and expounding his views.

“Let me have some whisky—hot, with;—and don't stand there looking at nothing.”

Gonzalo. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,— Antonio. He’ld sow’t with nettle-seed. Sebastian. Or docks, or mallows.

It was not Johnny's fees but the drummers passing through with their lines of dry goods and notions, it was the occasional cattle-buyer who stopped for the night and took a meal—it was they who paid the bills.