Seattle Hempfest Teaser

In any war, warriors will suffer for the cause. They will make personal sacrifices. Some great, some small. Der Kommissar Mariela and I made one such small sacrifice by venturing to Hempfest on Saturday. It was a goldmine. We have dozens of images to go through, but in the meantime, enjoy this video. I wish it were bigger so you could feel like you were there with me. You might want to turn your volume down, it may be quite loud. Apologies for the sound quality. I was there for the hair.

Broadway (Capitol Hill, Seattle) Edition

Der Kommissar Mariela, DWP’s very own Hawkeye, noticed an alarming trend on Broadway Avenue in Seattle’s grimiest, most precious neighborhood, Capitol Hill. This is one of the many reasons I avoid Capitol Hill whenever I can, in addition to the infestation of dour hipsters and the horrible parking. DKM, however, is not so fortunate, and is often required to go to Capitol Hill. Fearlessly, she captures the indigenous Capitol Hill DWP in service for the cause. Here they are.



Even if you couldn’t see one pink little finger, you would know this was a dreaded white person by her extremely multicultural sweater and bag, and by how atrocious those dreads are. Also, this pic was taken in July. July. Notice the woman walking the opposite direction in a white t-shirt in the first pic, carrying a cool beverage of some type. Welcome to Capitol Hill.



Oh, it’s cool, guys. This dwp gets a pass, as he’s obvs just an artist practicing his craft. LOL j/k guys, you know we can never give them a pass!


This girl takes off her shoes, as if to drive the point irretrievably home that she is back to her roots and connected with her primitiveness or whatever self-serving platitudes would inevitably come tumbling out of her mouth if someone said, ‘Hey there, why are you barefoot in the middle of the city?’ Don’t be fooled by that grass. It’s still Capitol Hill.


I see this and my face is like the last panel of this Cyanide & Happiness.

And, truly, the most impressive, to conclude this issue:

What’s happening here? I am impressed at the amount of hair this girl has. I wonder how much of it is actually connected to her head, and not just tangled in the dreads. Or possible fake? I also don’t understand what’s going on with that bandanna. What function is that serving? I’m all for form over function, on occasion, but I see no form here. Do you? If so, by all means, clue me in.

Please, further the cause and send your own pictures to dreadedwhitepeople@gmail.com

Also, Burning Man is almost upon us. We are recruiting.

Farmers’ Market Edition

Der Kommissar Mariela and I were at the farmer’s market one Sunday in Ballard when we happened upon a bonus white dreadlocks multiplier. Two earthmothers hawking their wares and diluting the general splendor for everyone.“Magda, I really admire the way your dreadlocks have taken on that organic snake-digesting-rodent shape. I hope one day mine can also articulate the circle of life so eloquently. Do you think I’ll ever get past the hairball-riddled-cat-vomit stage?”

“Magda, did you see that I made a necklace out of your hair? You are my true north.”

What is she doing to that bottle? Is she sticking her finger in the mouth? Once again, my strict policy of patronizing Dreaded White Mongers only with words, not cash, has saved me from who knows what – consumption,  Legionnaires’, psittacosis, gout.

Later, Der Kommissar Mariela sent me this prime specimen, which she captured shortly after I departed (I was apoplectic from DWP trauma and had to make my exit).

“I see this hot sauce is from New Mexico…but was it made by indigenous peoples like my jacket? No? Sorry, it’s not authentic enough for me.”

Send your offenders.

Dreaded, Middle Aged White People: The Suffering Continues

Der Kommissar Mariela is my #1 Seattle scout. She seems to have a special sense when white dreadlocks are near. To capture a middle aged white lady fearlessly displaying her ratty dreadlocks like a misguided peacock was truly a stroke of fortuitous genius – I suspect they are a rarity and am excited to be able to document such a specimen here. It takes a special sort to insist on bearing their white dreads through middle age. A special, unforgivable sort. Do not be fooled by the halo effect caused by all the white around this perpetrator. She is no angel, and we are wise to her; she will not be spared.

“After this, I think I’ll do some qigong and then roll in purifying dirt with my flesh-companion.”

Send me your offenders.