As we approach peak Social Justice convergence, things are becoming increasingly more bizarre. America is going collectively insane, and insanely collective. At the forefront of this is a notion that white people need to hate themselves, and work as hard as they can against their own interests.

This goes by various names, like “decolonization”, which was used by one group of SJWs in reference to science. Decolonizing science, one South African woman said, would require throwing away the scientific method, and relying on literal witchcraft. But here in America, the more traditional way of expressing it is to remove “systemic racism, sexism, homophobia, and transphobia” from science. This includes such things as not referring to your newborn baby as a boy or a girl, but some kind of gender-neutral designation. One article refers to this as “misgendering starts at birth.” Then we have the instance where a little girl dresses up in traditional Japanese garb, and an SJW has to insert his, her, or it-self into the conversation and claim cultural appropriation. A Japanese individual puts the SJW in its place by saying “the only reason you have a problem with this is because that little girl is white and you know it is acceptable on tumblr to crap all over white people.” Good show, sir.

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Who comes up with these shitty slogans, anyway?

But the subject of today’s fisk has gone over a much deeper deep end, so to speak. He rants about how whiteness is always toxic. Observe:

One of the sturdiest myths of whiteness is that it’s only toxic when it’s tangibly destructive to bodies of color. In the experience of this white writer, as soon as the topics of race or Black Lives Matter come up in white spaces, tones of defensiveness bloom in the room. There’s a ubiquity of declarations beginning “But—” and we all scurry to enumerate for one another all the examples that might prove how we ourselves are not actually racist.

Translation: it is unacceptable to defend yourself against charges of racism. You are not allowed to prove your innocence because there is no innocent white man. Being white is de facto proof of racism. It is the original sin of Toxic Whiteness, a concept stolen from Christianity and warped into a tool to beat people over the head with in order to steal their lunch money. Said author is the sucker losing his lunch money to this idiocy.

I’m tired of it. Some of us have been working on behalf of the Movement for Black Life every day for 23 months and still can locate vestiges of our racism. I need to stop and check my language and reactions so often that I feel like my life has been made with crude stop motion technology.

At times, I almost pity these SJWs. Can you imagine living your life the way he describes it? A stop-motion of constant worrying and stressing that something you do may be called racism by someone, somewhere. These people cannot eat food without worrying about cultural appropriation, or open their mouths without stressing that someone will be offended by their words. They can’t think, talk, act, or do anything except “check their privilege.” It must be a miserable existence. My pity is withheld only because this misery is entirely self-imposed.

Just because you assure yourself and your friends that you’ve never insulted or aggressed a person of color, doesn’t mean your whiteness isn’t still toxic. It’s not “good” that you’ve never harmed a person of color; it’s an entry-level prerequisite of human life.

An “entry-level prerequisite of human life” is to have never harmed a person of color (a fuzzy definition that has, at times, included white women like Anita Sarkeesian, because it’s politically convenient)? So a bare minimum of human life is to have never insulted someone who isn’t white. Think on that for a moment. That’s the author’s view here. God forbid you ever flicked off a bad driver who happened to be black, you are not not even accounted as human. Yes, that sounds overly literal, but it’s important to point out here. SJWs believe that if you aren’t in political agreement with them, you are inhuman, and having been suitably dehumanized, it is now permissible for them to do whatever they want to you.

Our focus now must be on what we are explicitly doing to detoxify our whiteness. Voting Democrat means nothing. Holding open a door for a person of color means nothing. Listening to Billie Holiday or Chance the Rapper: you should stop feeling permission to do so until you’ve committed yourself to a form of living that is overtly pro-Black. The list goes on.

And the list has been going on for a few hundred years now.

What follows is an appeal to my white peers, as well as to myself.

So if you want to listen to rap music (I don’t, by the way), you must ask for permission, and live in an overtly pro-Black manner. Otherwise, you are not allowed to listen to the music. Is this starting to sound utterly insane yet? This isn’t a case of being respectful of other people, it’s a case of explicitly living your life as a slave. At least the slaves in the antebellum world were not volunteers for the institution. One imagines that they were quite unwilling. But today’s SJW slaves are willingly embracing chains as self-imposed punishment for crimes they didn’t even commit. “Massa,” says the SJW, “can I listen to rap music if I slap myself in the face, kick myself in the nuts, and apologize for thousands of years of bullshit I didn’t do?”

What follows is a series of specific cases the author cites to prove that racism is real, and white people suck. He cites 5 or 6 of them, and then assumes this proves all whites are racist, and toxic, and need to be decolonized or whatever.

You know that when a Black athlete raises a fist or takes a knee rather than put his hand over his heart during the performance of the most infamous piece of jingoist doggerel in the world, he’s going to receive death threats and much scorn for the rest of his life. Jot down a tally of the minutes you’ve spent not just in defending a Black athlete’s right to refuse the anthem, but, more critically, in explaining to your white peers why it’s necessary for all of us to reject that anthem.

So the national anthem is a piece of “infamous jingoistic doggerel”. Why is this man still living in America? Why doesn’t he move to Somalia where there are more black people he might enslave himself for, and where they do not have such anthems, mainly because they don’t have a functioning country — but hey, let’s not be overly picky here, right? If you don’t like America, then leave. That goes for self-hating white people as much as it goes for black people who think America sucks and the cops are all out to kill them.

You know what I’d do if I sincerely thought the cops were all out to kill me here? I’d get on a fucking boat and leave. Nobody does that because nobody really believes any of this shit, least of all the people protesting it.

You know some of your neighbors grab a phone or jump on Facebook when a Black man travels down the sidewalk in your majority-white neighborhood. Count on your fingers how many times you’ve reached out to that neighbor to ask them to check this reaction. Count the times you’ve admitted to yourself you sometimes have this gut reaction to Black life (because you’re a white person who grew up in America).

Well, considering the crime stats in this country, if you see a black man dressed in gangbanger style, it’s entirely rational to grab your phone, or grab your purse, or call neighborhood watch, or whatever. Of course, this goes for white kids who dress that way too, but point being the author is telling white people to tell other white people that responding rationally to a situation is racism.

Investigate your checkbook register. Tally how much of your surplus cash you’ve shared with a person of color who’s struggling financially. If it’s less than $100 dollars for fiscal year 2016, you’ve got a long road ahead of you. If it’s $0, what the fuck is your problem?

The author is centering his entire life around “persons of color”. Everything, again, is about serving them. What about his own family, friends and relations? My money goes first to help my own family. I have a wife, and a son, and a brother, etc… My priority is helping them. Only if they are doing okay do I even think about spending my money on folks I don’t know. But the author says that if you haven’t given money to random “persons of color” then you’re an evil bad person.

But what about the multitude of less-obvious ways we remain carriers of toxic whiteness? What about continuing to patronize local establishments like the Tap Room, after we learn that some Black friends, after speaking up because one of their credit cards had been lost by staff at that bar, get the cops called on them by the white owner because she didn’t like their tone of voice?

The author cites a random anecdotal incident for which we have no other information, and then says we should all hate a particular establishment without any sort real description of what even happened.

What about continuing to passively tolerate, as university professors, the fact that our departments have zero Black or Brown faculty? And what about the rationales we quickly haul out when confronted with this fact?

I don’t know where this guy works, but I’ve seen plenty of “Black or Brown” faculty at universities. Now, affirmative action means some of them probably shouldn’t be there. But still…

What about the fact that we send our white kids to schools in “better” districts?

I will send my son to the best school I can afford for him — which may very well be homeschool, by the way. He sure as hell won’t be going to public school. But what kind of asshole prioritizes random kids of color, or whatever, over his own children? This is a slave talking, folks, a fucking slave, who feels he has to go up to people of color, or whatever PC term is favored today, and ask “massa, can I listen to rap? Massa, can I send my kid to a good school? Massa, here’s all my money. No, massa, I never disrespect YOU.”

What about the fact that this Mac is brand-new and this white male body will probably never be violated, but my Black friend has no personal computer at the moment, and every single time she walks down the sidewalk, she’s aware that at any moment someone in a truck may say something disgusting to her? What defenses do we need to muster to not be obsessed with this disparity?

Your “black friend” has no personal computer, and you have a Mac. Well, mister slave, why don’t you go to her and say “mistress, here’s my computer”? And then you say that someone in a truck might say something disgusting to her? You have spewed disgusting lies all over your own site, shithead, and you are worried that someone in a truck might someday say something she finds offensive?

I’ll tell you what my “defense” is against this “disparity.” I don’t give a rat’s ass. It’s categorically not my problem. I have my own problems to worry about, like SJWs trying to ruin my business because they don’t like my politics, or the United States possibly electing a felonious liar to high office (yes, I’m talking about Hillary. Trump is no rose in the garden either, but fuck anything looks nice next to Hillary. I’d vote for a steaming pile of horseshit over her.).

Look. I don’t want the government instituting racial policies against her citizens of any kind. No Jim Crow. No affirmative action. No forced segregation. No force desegregation. Leave it alone. If that makes me a racist, then fuck it all, I’m a racist. Francis over at Liberty’s Torch, said as much when he was equally exasperated with this blatant bullshit. I guess they will just call you a racist no matter what you do. After all, this guy who has dedicated himself and his entire existence to “persons of color” still thinks he is, himself, a racist.

What about the domestic effects of this schizoid daily existence wherein we have a moral obligation to despise this construct called whiteness, yet go on trying to love our “white” selves? How are we raising our children to understand that in America, white skin is a weapon they will need to spend the rest of their lives unloading?

Read that again, folks. White skin is, according to this man, a weapon that they must dedicate their lives to unloading. I wonder what gangbangers in Chicago are blowing each other away with these days? 9mms? Saturday Night Special .22s? I guess they missed the memo. All you need to do is flash some white skin and BLAM! Everybody dies. Why, a whole naked white person must be like a nuclear bomb. That would explain my reaction to Lena Dunham: one view of that shit, and I legitimately do want to slit my wrists and pray to God that a Sweet Meteor of Death wipes out all human life.

This man hates himself. He probably cries himself to sleep because he feels his skin is the wrong color. But don’t worry, SJW, you can be like Shaun King and declare yourself to be blacker than Snoop. Transracialism will be the next big thing.

Are you continuing to feed your kids the fiction that the profession of policing is a respectable one? And if you are, do you understand the conflict produced inside your child’s developing psyche when tomorrow afternoon she learns that, yet again, another Black unarmed woman or man has been killed by a cop?

So nobody’s kids should be cops. Okay. So basically nobody should be a cop, right? I’m sure that will make the ghetto one lovely suburban paradise. I mean, I was thinking the wrong things all this time. All we needed to do was get rid of the cops, and snap our fingers, and suddenly every crack house would turn into a mansion. Good idea. Don’t see how I missed it.

Is pulling a trigger once, lethally, any worse than pulling it subtly a bunch of times every day? If I haven’t yet offered my love and labor to the movement for Black Lives, can I prove I’m any better than Darren Wilson?

Don’t even know what to say to this, except that it’s weapons grade stupidity.

Why is it some of us encounter the phrase “Keep Ypsi Black” and feel offended?

For the same reason that you lose your shit whenever regular folks (not all of them white, mind you) try to keep Section 8 out of their neighborhoods.

Why do we think, even for a moment, we should offer any sort of opinion about Black Life to our Black friends?

Because I am a Free Man, not a Slave like you. I will offer my opinions to whomever I choose. If a friend doesn’t like it, he’s free to no longer be my friend. That’s Freedom, for you. You can select your own friends. Imagine that? Does a slave like you get his “friends” (read: masters) appointed for him?

In spite of any ameliorative steps we feel we’ve already taken, and in opposition to any notion of our having already been immunized, there are only two treatments for toxic whiteness:

1) We shut the fuck up and move back to Europe, the U.K., or Scandinavia.

2) We step up.

There is no move between these two, yet most of us go on believing we’ve discovered one.

Funny thing is, if Europe wasn’t even more insane in this regard, I might have moved there already. I was lamenting this earlier. If you’re a freedom-minded anti-Communist, it used to be that America was your last bastion, your place of retreat. Cuban exiles, Soviet defectors, South Vietnamese, etc… they all came to escape the hellish tyrannies that had genuinely oppressed them. But now there is nowhere left for folks like me.

We cannot go to Europe, and in any event many of them think us boorish colonial oppressors anyway. So you have given us the option of “stepping up” which, essentially, means voluntary enslavement where every opinion must be blessed by your masters, where your labor must be given to them, where you cannot have fun or listen to music without their consent, where you cannot even talk to them about anything other than those subjects which they have given you permission for. Speak only when spoken to.

You are giving the remaining freedom-minded peoples, concentrated here in America, the choice of extinction, exile, or slavery. You are backing a rabid animal against a wall.

I suspect you will not like where this is leading you. But I don’t care. I have sympathy for those slaves who suffered in America at one time. If any were alive today, I would offer them pity and succor, for they deserved it. They truly suffered. But you have embraced your chains willingly. I have no pity for you, and were you to turn up destitute on my doorstep, I’d feed my dog an extra helping before even considering tossing the crumbs to you.

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