*--day after day, I sneak through the cracks in the base-boards of "diversity" in Carifornja. When can I once again throw wide the gates and embrace a familiar environment, with familiar people? In the home built and protected by death and suffering all the way up my family tree and my own injuries--to the point of near extinction of my bloodline, will there ever again be a place where I am not the foreigner, but lynched as a racist for asking the question?
I'm finally going to say it.
I have a gut feeling it's going to be a huge relief to the morale just to have this said.
I am white.
I like being white.
I like white people.
I like having white friends.
I will eventually fall in love with a white woman.
I will eventually have white children.
I'm looking forward to living in a white environment--with a few possible exceptions.
I enjoy working to be a credit to my race--and not an embarrassment.
I like living in an area where at least 1 person in a dozen can understand me when I speak to them, and can easily make themselves understood to me even in trifling matters--never mind the deeper existential problems of trying to relating to survival as a coherent consciousness in an epistemologically ambiguous physical universe. (Adams)
I like living among others who feel the same.
I like feeling and being and saying these things without apologizing to, or mistreating those who are not white.
I like speaking sincerely respectfully and amiably to everyone, and showing basic socially responsible kindnesses--white or not. This is part of being a credit to my race. It's what white people do. If I was not white, I'd want to be a credit to whatever race I was by being this way anyway--which many do.
On the other hand,
I don't like the sidelong, smug, accusatory glance of those who insinuate racism into this.
I don't like those who assume this means I do not enjoy other cultures--despite that I have ONLY been able to experience OTHER cultures.
I don't like those who don't comprehend that planned discourtesy to those of other races is weakness.
I don't like the continuous burden of language barriers, compounded by dumbfuck homey functionally illiterate "culture" that deliberately reinforces the downward spiral of functional communication.
Most of all, I don't like having to deal with determination to treat any complaint as racism or smugness, and ignore that these problems are unavoidable and directly affect the quality of my life.
Wow. I was right. That felt damn good! What a relief to the morale. That was a lifetime of pent-up frustration purged all at once.
I don't even smoke, and I need a cigarette.
Does anyone know where a place like this exists? The south springs to mind, but I would think xianity would fuck it my high.
Let the chair-throwing begin!