Only the paralyzing blindness of Satan himself prevents so many from understanding: It cannot be overstated; so-called white liberal cultural Marxists, (as if there could be a conservative cultural Marxist), are surpassed for their baneful commonality only by their so-called black counterparts. To which, I add: the crayon color assignation of both groups is a grotesque malapropism. They’re neither white nor black; but they’re both thrilled to the soiling of their collective undergarments to be identified as that, which they aren’t and can never be sans the application of spray paint. Such thinking makes them worthy of rebuke, scorn and condemnation.
I repeat my often spoken rebuke of them: Their kinds are pernicious calumniators and evil marplots committed to the last ounce of dishonesty and rejection of modernity. Collectively, they are only interested in the good they can label and miscast as bad.
I was vividly reminded of these facts Saturday evening at dinner, when I had the privilege of speaking with three Ghanaian young gentlemen. After our introductions, the first question I asked them was if they were Christians and specifically if they had accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. In unison they responded yes with massive smiles.
From there I wanted to hear their thoughts, perceptions and feelings about America. I was interested in specifically what things they found most surprising, most troubling, most beneficial and so forth. In brief, I wanted them to educate me from their perspective.
Ghana practices collectivism, and they saw the benefit of said system; whereas, I subscribe to a biblical format of an individual’s choice to participate in a variant form of selective collectivism based upon individualism.
Regarding my opening paragraph above, what the young men reinforced was how ignorant, misled and poorly educated as a whole so may of our American young people are today.
One of the points of emphasis they were absolutely adamant about was their shock at the focus on the idea of skin color. In Ghana, just as in Brazil and other nations, nationality trumps the erroneous construct of skin color.
The one young man was incensed that in this country it was necessary for him to prove his worth and value based upon being a “skin color.” He made the same argument that I have made nearly my entire life.
The embracement of the vile systemic and institutional heterodoxy of the fallacious construct of melanin as a color and the falsity of it being identifiable as a race, is evil on its face. I argue and nothing dissuades me that it’s with forethought and malicious intent that the promotion of such a lie is promoted as currency for self-worth and personal value.
This is my objection with the idea of skin color. It’s a lie from the pit of hell. Any doctor who is truthful and honest will admit that skin color doesn’t exist. They will admit that melanin is neither a color nor a race.
The deceptively Satanic dishonesty of crayon skin colors allows, encourages and rewards acrimony and promotes inferiority as a damning psychological condition that’s viewed as normality for the so-called blacks. Those who are the so-called whites are inundated with example after example of anti-social, abnormal and heathen behavior.
Those who practice said aberrant behavior as a lifestyle argue their behavior to be cultural – as if boorishness and reducing oneself to the lowest level of behavior is an acceptable cultural norm. Those who are miscast as “white people” are often accused of being racist ad nauseam because they challenge the normalcy of aberrant social behavior.
Both groups are wrong on every quantifiable level starting with perceptions, unless one is a cultural Marxist, in which case they’re gleefully celebrative of the perceptions. It reinforces the Cloward-Piven Strategy and institutionalizes systematic Hegelian Dialectics.
I recall the first time I spoke with the husband of the family that moved in next door. He told me that all law-enforcement officers were racist alcoholics and that “every white person was racist,” which I found curiously amusing since he has light brown hair with blue-eyes. He also had the audacity to tell me that I had no idea how lucky I was per my upbringing. I was a conundrum to him, because I don’t fit the mold for what those he identifies as African-American are supposed to be. That is bigotry personified. The misconceptions fostered by their ignorance leads liberal cultural losers to wrong conclusions.
One young gentleman from Ghana acknowledged several of my questions as never being asked him before. They required him to take a few moments to think about them before responding.
Suffice it to say, it was refreshing to hear their perspectives. One gentleman stated with emphasis that he was blessed to have come to America and studied here. He said that he was taking back to his country the benefit of opportunities he could not have gotten anywhere in the world but America. He expressed gratitude for the opportunities existing in America. It was refreshing to hear them speak their nationalist pride. It was refreshing to hear them agree that they oppose the aberrant lifestyles American government is trying to force upon them.
In America, the young people are being taught to hate America. They’re being taught to be ashamed of their country. They are being taught that nationalism is wrong. The young men I spent time with suffered under no such stupidity.
I said, I am not a color. I’m an American. I asked the question: “Why would I want to be viewed as less than and a minority when there are 330-plus million Americans here? Why would I not want to identify as American?”
One young man took a moment to think about it before replying to this comment of mine: When I walk into an upscale store, I don’t walk in as a crayon color. I walk in as a man; to which I add: A born-again American man. I said that what people think doesn’t bother me, because it’s what I think about myself that counts. I cannot control what people think, but I can control how I behave and how I see myself. The young gentleman acknowledged same as making strong sense.
One other thing I observed was that the young gentlemen all came from strong intact homes, which is something it would behoove these people in America to work at developing.
A point of irony was that we were eating in restaurant located on a street in the city in which I grew up. When I was growing up that part of the street was an open-air mostly Hungarian and Italian fruit and produce market. In 1956, when Rosa Parks was being thrown off a bus in the South, I was riding in the front of a bus with my white nanny past what would become the restaurant in which we dined that evening.
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