[Vision2020] Racism

[Joan Opyr]

Thus spake Moscow's answer to Zarathustra:

>In our discussions, we have to beware of racism inflation. In contemporary 
>public discourse, such charges are too readily leveled as the all-purpose 
>trump card. Why don't we agree to reserve it for those who believe and 
>affirm that one race is (racially) superior to another? With this more 
>precise definition, it would even be possible for the sin of racial 
>animosity to occur without the (distinct) sin of racism. The world is a 
>complicated place, and not made out of cardboard. For example, is it 
>possible to acknowledge the existence of malicious egalitarians and 
>benevolent racists?

I am sorry, Doug, but this is a piece of sophistry worthy of Old Nick.  What 
is the point in trying to conceive of a situation in which it would be 
possible to hate the members of a particular race without being racist?  
Conscience cleansing?  Despising others without having to go to the expense 
of actually purchasing sheets?

I don’t know that I am the only Southerner on this list, but in the current 
context I am perhaps the only one to admit it.  My family has lived in North 
Carolina for three hundred and fifty years, and in that time, we have done 
our fair share of odious things—held slaves, supported segregation, and 
worked like hell to deny blacks the vote.  But times, thank God, have 
changed.  Today, not a man jack of us, not even the Dixiecrat/Republicans, 
would consider enlisting in the League of the South, an organization so 
redolent of brachycephalic cretinism that it’s a wonder its members can walk 
upright.  A cursory glance at the collection of drafty misinformation, 
bigotry, and outright lies resident on the League of the South web-site 
suggests to me that while their ancestors were stripping the bark off trees 
looking for fat, juicy grubs, mine were inventing the shrimp fork.

In the name of civic decency, I implore all defenders of the League of the 
South to cease your recitation of Jim Crow’s greatest hits and instead pick 
up a copy of Barbara Woodhouse’s ‘No Bad Dogs.’  It’s perfectly clear that 
what you fellows need is a chew toy.  A rawhide, a rubber rolled newspaper, 
or a squeaky plastic hamburger would do nicely.

Less talkie, more walkies,

Joan Opyr/Auntie Establishment

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