If I had wanted to hear the ideas I
encountered in my web search for racial unity against massed destructive
forces, I'd have left my TV set on.
Blacks proudly wear African
hats and black-designed clothes marked FUBU-
For Us, By Us. Is there nothing left for whites- not even our own
ancient religion?
Has some "Starchild" or other ever crawled out
of the Woodstockian mud long enough to be injured (by blacks) in the
endless battle that is life in a "diverse" society, and have they ever
unknowingly walked, injured, into a black-run and black-patronized
tavern, hoping to use the pay telephone? The music stops- instantly. The
place becomes deathly silent. Glasses freeze in mid-air. 100 blank faces
turn as one to regard the intruder. "Ain't no phone here. Don't be
bleedin' on my flo', neither" says a grateful recipient of forty years
of unbridled "civil rights" and subsidized "equality."
But
welcome, black stranger, to our most sacred rites, which we have not the
will or the courage to protect- not even as much as you automatically,
instinctively, unanimously, and unquestioningly defend a mere "cocktail
lounge" from outsiders not sharing your pigmentation!
As we saw
in the recent election, blacks vote as a near monolithic bloc, while
whites are split down the middle- not just on politics, but on virtually
everything. Until we unite, we will remain helpless. As one writer said
(was it the famous Col. Jeff Cooper?)
"You don't need to worry about choosing sides in a race war. The other
side will take care of that for you."
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