You Whites Gotta Learn--You WILL Give Up the Power
(Note: The following essay has been circulated around the internet by someone who didn't credit the author--me! This diary entry has been on my site since 1997--Elena Haskins)
Going to the bank in Berkeley used to be a bearable chore. You could walk downtown, do your banking, perhaps do a little shopping at the fabric store or buy a piece of pizza, look at few store windows and walk back home. It was a nice little outing on a sunny day.
Now going to the bank in Berkeley means running the gauntlet of Third Worlders, holding real tight to your purse, and being on the alert for those who would just as soon rip you off personally instead of just through the agencies who steal with letters and lawyers.
One sunny day, I was stopped from crossing University Avenue to get to the bank by an amazing sight. With full horse-mounted police escort, hundreds of Mexican students were marching down University Avenue, laughing and boasting and carrying Mexican flags and signs. The signs said: WE ARE THE FUTURE!--in Spanish, of course. The full comprehension of the situation took me a few minutes. Horse-mounted police, in Berkeley? Never seen before, where did they come from? We Are the Future? From students who had a snowball's chance in Hell of making it to my alma mater, the University of California at Berkeley, without affirmative action for the unqualified and lots and lots of free money for the undeserving?
And why were the police protecting them? In their Mexico, these arrogant demonstrators would probably have been scooped up by the Mexican police. Of course, that assumes they would demonstrate against their own government. Nah, that would be too dangerous. How convenient to demonstrate against the Americans, the people who bare infinite teat for the sucking of the Milk of Human Kindness. How convenient to demonstrate against the Americans--who work as government owned indentured servants so that Mexican students can skip school and go boasting in parades with police protection.
So many years ago, I took 4 years of Spanish so that I could be conversant in the language of Our Neighbors South of the Border. With all the naivete of youth, I was prepared to enjoy Spanish and Mexican literature and converse with the Spanish speaking peoples. How was I to know that Our Neighbors South of the Border think that the Invasion of the Third World Breeding Units is a macho way to invade and conquer the United States of America? Aztlan is their dream. The re-taking of the former Spanish territory for the use of the former Spanish colony, Mexico. The real joke, of course, is everywhere the Hispanics take over neighborhoods, crime goes up and living standards go down. When I lived among Hispanics in California, I had to drive home by young Hispanic men flashing long knives on the corner. My rug was stolen off of the clothesline in my backyard--after I had cleaned it. But let's not discuss reality. Let's go back to the Mexican students, joking and laughing in the sun, marching down University Avenue with the police escort paid for by those gringos they hate so much.
As the comprehension of the March of the Mexicans played across my face, a male person of the skin color known as black sauntered up to me. He looked at the marchers, laughed at my obvious discomfort, and wagging his face in mine, commanded:
"You Whites gotta learn--YOU WILL GIVE UP THE POWER!"
After looking at my reaction, the Saunterer decided to go find an easier target. Perhaps he needed someone who would recognize his high-topped athletic shoes as symbols of skill in governing. Perhaps he would find a nice juicy White Liberal who would fall to her knees in recognition of the genetic wisdom of this person with black skin whose cousins back in Africa have demonstrated the efficacy of Mob Murders With Machetes. Or perhaps he dreamed of being Mobotu, who owns such lovely chateaux on the French Riviera and has lived in such fantastic luxury with the $6 Billion in aid paid for by the Americans With Infinite Teat. Too bad the people of Zaire are so darned poor. With only $6 Billion, Mobotu didn't feel like sharing the generosity of the Americans.
So there I was with the Marching Mexicans on one side of me and the Saunterer on the other side, wondering how the heck being nice put Americans in such Hell.
A Nice White American. Too bad I can't afford to be one anymore.
Copyright 1997, 1998, 1999 Elena Haskins. All Rights Reserved.
Copyright 1997, 1998, 1999 Elena Haskins. All Rights Reserved.
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