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
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."