I try not to bitch about an idiot’s post more than once. But this Dennis Prager racial kumbaya in the National Review is such a howler:
Still the Least Racist Country in the World
by Dennis Prager | National Review
In light of the tragic killing of black teenager Trayvon Martin — and the manufactured hysteria surrounding it — one thing needs to be stated as clearly and as often as possible: The United States is the least racist and least xenophobic country in the world . .
As I said before, we are aware of all wingnut traditions. Trayvon is dead, and Derbyshire’s an unemployed National Review Klanspundit. And now the Review’s Robert Weissberg, American Renaissance racialist emeritus, has been shitcanned as well. Are we to pretend Prager wasn’t trotted out to cover butts?
It’s too bad Dennis the Handholder couldn’t have held his tongue. After the community harmonizing, he begins lashing the liberals and African Americans. One bunch are politically greedy, and the other are, well, stupid and defective:
The left-wing drumbeat about America as racist is a combination of politics and black memory.
The political aspect is this: The Democrats and the Left both recognize that if blacks cease viewing themselves as victims of racism, the Democratic party can no longer offer itself as black America’s savior.
Hey, Black People: who’s your savior? I’m going to gamble here that they would answer “no one.” Also, “fuck off.” If black folks have a problem, as usual, they take it on themselves. Mind you, yes, we all want friends, and we could all use a little understanding as we go about our lives. But the idea that black america are Penelope tied to the railroad tracks and white people are, what, Dudley Doo-Right? Dennis has barely begun to hurl the insults:
And if only one out of three black Americans ceases to regard to [sic] himself as a victim of racism, and votes accordingly, it will be very difficult for Democrats to win any national election.
Once A Black no longer wrongly, stupidly considers “himself . . a victim of racism,” he votes Republican. This is edifying. Unlike everybody else, blacks just don’t have ‘politics.’ They don’t know or care for issues, like the economy, or taxes, or healthcare. They’re just sort of . . there. And Republicanism is their default functional state, like breathing. Breathing with your mouth.
The other issue is black memory. Apparently, most blacks either cannot or refuse to believe that the vast majority of whites are no longer racists.
. . danger! Dennis Prager . .
Most Americans were hopeful that the election of a black president — thereby making America the first white society in history to choose a black leader — would finally put to rest the myth of a racist America. More than three years later it seems not to have accomplished a thing . .
And the nob gets twisted off. Like most Conservatives, Dennis thinks black people are wrong. Here he writes it’s because they cling to memories. Hey, somebody put the electrodes to this neuro-malady. Maybe that’s what these guys were trying to do, scare the memory-wits out of people?
But pushing Zimmerman and Derbyshire and Weissberg far aside, friends — why not! — one can see, if one squints, very VERY hard, little racism in America. One problem down, but scientists are stumped by this:
. . aliens hacking into Michigan road signs. Geez, that was three days ago, bitter elephants. If you just could loosen your grip on a few historical blunders, Dennis’ utopia awaits our melting pot. Look how close we are to it. We’re “the first white society in history to choose a black leader.”
Right. Any of you spit the coffee reading that? Dennis would write something so gawdawful Wonder Bread. He, like most National Review poltergeists, really does live in a “white society.” But surely he didn’t vote for Barack, so his argument’s pretty much a drug deal.
The gob-slapping comedy here comes when Dennis volunteers the rest of America for “white society.” Myself, I don’t live anywhere near one, I live in Los Angeles. Like San Diego, New Orleans, Miami, Detroit, or Atlanta, it’s full of people of all kinds. Like the 50 states where the first Americans, the Indians, still live. You get my point. Mr. Racehugs couldn’t even account for the colored asses he’s been kissing.