Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Am I a racist...

...or do I just not like the negro?

I have been listening to, and reading the great debate that is going on over the astute remarks by former President Jimmy Carter. It seems that even though Congressman Joe Wilson did not cry out, "You're a lying nigger," rather "You Lie" during Obama's health care speech, he is obviously a racist. And that mantra has spread like syphilis in a whorehouse throughout the media and the entire Democrat Party.

The current argument is that regardless of whether one disagrees with President Obama on "policy," it MUST be that they are "racist."

This debate has caused me to become introspective. Do I disagree with Obama because of his policies, or simply because he is a negro? I have concluded that it's because he is a negro. And I do not like the negro.

Thinking back on the negro folk that I have been close to in my life, I can honestly say that I don't like any of them. But I do not believe that makes me a "racist." The true definition of a "racist" is one with a prejudiced belief that one race is superior to others. And I certainly do not hold that belief.

Oh sure, on a broad scale, Asians (you know, the Chinks, Gooks, Desis, etc.) outperform regular whites on standardized tests. And the negro obviously (on a broad scale) outperforms normal white people in athletics. But these are just norms, and there are obvious exceptions to them. I do not find one race or another to be "superior." So, I am not a "racist." I just do not like the negro!

When folks defend a charge of racism, they most often pull out the "some of my best friends are black" card. Not me! I have no negro friends. Oh, sure I grew up in the deep US South during the days of integration, so they were everywhere. But I never really made any negro friends.

The first negro I remember was our "housekeeper," Rose Winston. My Mother worked 4 days a week at my Father's business, and Rose was in charge of us four kids. She was the wife of an appliance repairman (also a negro) that worked for my Father. Oh, she loved us four children like we were her own. She disciplined us, and had free reign over our raising. In fact, my Mother finally told Daddy that she was not working at the store anymore when I cried, and said "I want to go home with Rose!" one evening.

Rose has been to all of our weddings, the weddings of our children, every important anniversary, baptisms, and family funerals. I ran into her at WalMart a few months ago. Pam (who Rose loves like a daughter) and I talked and talked, and caught up on the kids, etc. But I don't like her. She is a negro. She is quite frail now at 83, and has fought breast cancer. And she was just so happy to visit! The young negro lady that was driving her was so glad to meet me and Pam. She said, "I have heard so much about you over the years. Rose talks about you and your family all the time. This is a real treat!"

She was such a sweet lady. But I don't like her. She is a negro.

Once we had a very large negro that lived with us in our home. He was paroling out of the Colorado Penal system, and had to have "somewhere" to live. So, feeling sorry for the poor negro, Pam and I offered our home. Tony was a huge, loving, converted Christian that had lived a very tough life before prison. He was probably the most loyal, and grateful human you would come across. He defended me, and my family often. We became very close, as all people that live together do. At the time we had 3 sons, and he became a "big brother," if not a "second father" to the boys. They always want to know how Tony is doing, and we still maintain a relationship now 15 years later. But I just "act like" I like him. I do not. He is a negro.

My sons have had romantic relationships with negro girls. This is quite possibly my greatest failure as a father. I did not adequately teach my sons to dislike the negro. When #3 son brought home a negro girl a few years ago when he was in High School, I was sadly disappointed. Sure Shaquanda (not her real name...but her real name is too "whitey," so we'll just use Shaquanda) was just as sweet as sugar. She had an IQ that eclipsed my current weight of 145. She was a 4.0 student with grand goals for her future.

She was funny, engaging, highly motivated, and really a lot of fun to be around. She came by the house last summer to visit with us while on break from college. I guess she had fond memories of Andy's Place, and felt some need to report in. We had the best visit...we laughed, and talked, and caught up on her progress in college (which is stellar, as I suspected it would be). She is a lovely girl with a limitless future. But I'm glad that she and #3 son broke up. She is a negro. And I do not like the negro.

#2 son that lives in Ohio also had quite a "thing" going with a negro girl about a year ago. At 27, I was happy to hear that he was getting "serious." (and that it was with a girl) She sounded like a dream to me. She was accomplished, mature, had not been married before, had no children, and was interested in my son. But then he e-mailed me some pictures of them together. Sigh...she is a negro.

"Where did I gone wrong?" I asked myself... "Why do my sons not dislike the negro? What could I have done to instill in them a dislike for the negro?" I was a broken man.

As I look back on it, I have had friendships relationships with many dozens of negro folks. And I really don't like any of them. I do not like the negro.

But something even more profound came to me as I was pondering this all. I realized that what I really, really, really do not like is an "uppity negro." Oh, I can tolerate just the standard house negro...the "yessuh, nawsuh, yess'm, no'm" type negro. (You know, like Condoleeza Rice, or J. C. Watts, or Clarence Thomas). But I am pretty sure that I am against what Obama wants to do because he is an uppity negro.

I'm pretty sure that if Obama was not a negro, I would support his efforts to socialize our health care system, take over the auto industry, take over the banks, limit carbon emissions, stop global cooling, and lay 13 trillion dollars of debt on my kids. I'm sure I would. But I can not!

He is a negro...and I do not like the negro.


  1. Dang, Andy...Paul is rubbing off on you ;)

  2. I've read this "baby" 3 times and it gets better everytime...good stuff man!

  3. Yup, what Cudgel said.

    Hey, what the hell is Cudgel doing over here?

    Back to Canada, Cudgel.

  4. Cudgel just comes south occasionally to warm up.

    Once again, I blush.


Don't cuss nobody out, okay?