It's a Wonderful Race
by A. DePascale
There once was a college freshman named George who thought he knew it all. One night over dinner, George got into a heated argument with his father. The argument began when the young student tried to explain to his father that as white people they should be held accountable for all the evils they had inflicted upon non-Whites througout history. George explained: "Because of European racism, we stole the Indians' land, held blacks in slavery, oppressed the jews, persecuted gays and lesbians, and plundered the environment. We've been oppressive racists and bigots for thousands of years so it's only fair that White Americans and Europeans pay monetary reparations for the harm we've done to the world."
George's father was shocked to hear such talk. "Who put that commie-pinko shit into your head boy? Did one of your sandal-wearing, granola-eating, half-a-faggot hippie college professors feed you that crap?" he asked.
The son replied: "That's the truth dad. My anthropology professor, Dr.Silverstein, says so and he ought to know. Dr. Silverstein is a well-respected Ph.D., and one of the true intellectual giants of our time. People of your generation just don't understand because you were raised in a White-supremacist, homophobic, sexist, racist society. That's why Dr. Reverend Martin Luther King is the greatest man in American and world history. He stood up to the racists and bigots of your generation. Because of Dr. King and brilliant men like Dr. Silverstein, my generation of white kids is completely color-blind and free of bigotry."
The father angrily replied: "Bullshit! I've always been tolerant of people from all races and creeds! When have you ever heard a bigoted word come out of my mouth? I've never 'oppressed' anybody."
George said: "Dad, your bigotry and hatred are so subtle that you may not even be aware of them. The pride that you have always expressed in your so-called European roots reveals a subtle form of White supremacy and bigotry that is actually far more dangerous than the overt bigotry of the Ku Klux Klansmen or the hate-mongering skinhead."
The father screamed: "I don't believe what I am hearing! Now I'm in league with the skinheads and the Klan?! Good grief! Is this what I pay good money for? To have my kid brainwashed by some pinko college professor? Listen son, there is nothing wrong with being proud of your own people, including the European race. Your race is in your blood. It's an actual historical extension of your biological family and you ought to be proud of your European heritage and identity, just like every other racial group in America is entitled to be proud of theirs. Now I want you to ask your beloved Dr. Silver-shit why it's ok for every racial group under the sun to have a sense of identity and pride, yet it's evil for us European-Americans to feel the same way."
The young "intellectual" laughed and rolled his eyes at his father. "Come on, dad, that's exactly the kind of crap Adolf Hitler tried to peddle. Those racist attitudes went out years ago. In his best selling book, The White Plague: Europe's Rape of the Planet and Its Contemporary Aftereffects on People of Color, Dr. Silverstein points out that pride in your so-called 'heritage' is actually a hidden form of bigotry. Dr. Silverstein says that 'heritage' is a relative concept. Your 'European heritage' is actually someone else's oppression. There's only one race and that's the human race. Diversity is our greatest strength. And besides -- UN statistics now show that low White birth rates, high third-world immigration, and the fact that we live in a multi-cultural society will mean that us Europeans and our racist culture will have pretty much died out before the end of the century anyway," young George said.
Red with rage, the father yelled: "You are a walking cliché, you know that boy? And do you and this Silver-shit jerkoff think it's a good thing that we Europeans just fade away and cease to exist?"
"His name is Dr. Silverstein, dad!" young George replied, "and he happens to be a brilliant scholar and critically acclaimed author whose books have been reviewed in both the prestigious New York Times and The Washington Post. But not having gone to a respected university like I have, you would never know -- let alone understand -- such complex issues. You're just a plumber."
The father shot back: "He's a critically acclaimed asshole as far as I'm concerned! And a fine disrespectful uppity little prick you turned out to be! So tell me, Mr. One-Worlder, do you and Silver-shit honestly believe it's a good thing that the European people of the world fade away and cease to exist?"
George replied: "I think it's great, and so does Dr. Silverstein! It's time we step aside. It will mean the end of racism, bigotry, and hate. The oppressed people of the world would have been better off if bigoted Europeans had never existed to begin with."
'What did you just say?!" replied the father incredulously.
George repeated himself: "I said; the oppressed people of the world would have been better off if Europeans had never existed!"
Suddenly there was a blast of cold wind, an explosion, and a huge cloud of smoke. When the smoke had cleared, George found himself alone and lost in a cold, open field.
An angel appeared and said to him: "George, you've got your wish."
George asked: "Where am I? What's going on here? And who the hell are you?"
The angel answered, "George, I'm Clarence the Angel. My Boss sent me here to show you what the world would have been like if Europeans had never existed. You now live in a world without Europeans."
"Cool! I'll have no problem adapting because there's not a racist bone in my body. And when I get back to my world, I can tell Dr. Silverstein and my racist, bigoted, hatemongering father how wonderful this non-European world was.... Say, I'm freezing my ass off out here. Where's the nearest motel?"
"Motel?" replied the angel. "There are no motels here in what you once knew as North America. But there are some caves up in those mountains where you can find shelter."
"Caves? No way, man. I want a nice warm bed to sleep in."
"You don't understand George. There are no buildings because the evil Europeans never came here to build them. Whites never existed, remember? The natives live in tents. Would you like to go meet some local Indians? Perhaps they'll let you stay in a tent."
"A tent? But it's ten degrees out! ... Oh well. It's better than a cave, I suppose. Let's go talk to these Indians -- wait, are these Indians friendly or hostile?"
"George! That's a 'racist' question to ask! Just because some Indians were savages who scalped their victims alive doesn't mean they all were like that. You shouldn't generalize, you know," said the angel sarcastically.
"I know that Clarence. And I'm not a racist. I hate racism with every fiber of my being. But, I'd still feel safer if I had a gun to defend myself in case they turn out to be violent."
"Gun?" replied the angel. "There are no guns for you to defend yourself with. Firearms were invented by Europeans. Besides, you and Dr. Silverstein wanted to ban guns remember? However, you could make a spear with those twigs over there."
"That's too much work. Give me a telephone, then. I'll call the Indians to ask
if it's OK for me to sleep over."
"Telephone?" replied the angel. There are no telephones here. Alexander Graham Bell was another evil White man, so he never existed. No Europeans remember?"
"Forget it then!" replied George. "I'll sleep in the damn cave!"
Upon arriving at the cave, a shivering George asked the angel for a lighter so he could light a fire.
"Lighter?" replied Clarence. "There are no lighters here, and no matches. Those are European gadgets, and evil Europeans never existed. If you want to get warm, do like the locals do and start rubbing twigs together."
"Oh come on, man! You mean to tell me these people still rub sticks for fire?"
"That's right George. The Indians live exactly as they did before the pilgrims arrived from Europe just a few centuries ago," said the angel.
"I refuse to stay in this cold cave, and I damn sure ain't gonna light a fire with twigs and I will not sleep in a teepee! I'll go to South America. I can make it in a warmer climate and I'll adapt quickly to the great Incan civilization I learned about at college. Since European racists like Columbus, Cortez and Pizzaro never existed, the Incans will still be there. I need a car."
"Car?" replied the angel. "There are no cars here. Daimler and Benz, the German inventors of the internal combustion engine, were never born, nor was Henry Ford. There are no paved roads either. This is a world without Europeans remember?"
"No cars? Oh. I'll take a train then."
"There are no trains in this world either George. Evil Europeans weren't here to build locomotives or to discover the uses of coal, and oil, or to build trains or lay tracks. But I'll let you cheat just a bit. Grab hold of my magic robe and we'll fly south."
George touched the angel's robe and they flew south until they arrived in an abandoned mud hut in the midst of Inca territory. George was grateful for the warm weather but it wasn't long until he began to complain about the heat and humidity as well as the accommodations.
"Clarence, this hut is a little shithole and I'm sweating my ass off. Get me an air conditioner."
"Air conditioner?" replied the angel. "There are no air conditioners here. What do you think this is? A Holiday Inn? Air conditioning and refrigeration were inventions created by evil White men. ".
"What? You mean to tell me that in 2002 these people still haven't figured out a way to keep themselves or their food cool?" a frustrated George asked.
"No George, they haven't. And they never will."
"This is ridiculous. Let's go see the Emperor. I can't live like like this. Where's a car?...Oh, I forgot...no cars! Dammit, I'll walk. Let's go." After walking through the jungle for about an hour, it began to get dark . George asked for a flashlight.
"Flashlight? Sorry George, but Edison was an evil White man too. He was never born. There are some branches over there if you want to make a torch."
"Never mind!" George shouted.
By morning, they had arrived at the temple of the Incas. A human sacrifice was already in progress. George turned to Clarence and cried: "They're butchering that poor man! Somebody has got to put a stop to this. Evil murderous beasts!"
"Evil Murderous beasts? Such bigotry!" mocked Clarence. "And evil is such a relative concept," laughed the Angel.
"But Clarence, those high priests are killing innocent killing people on an altar. That's wrong! Can't anyone stop them?"
The angel replied "I'm afraid not George. Ritual killings are common here. Evil European racists like Columbus, Cortez and Pizzaro never existed so the Incas just continued their brutal ways. In fact, did you know that it was the native peoples themselves who made up the bulk of the Spanish forces? The natives saw the Spaniards as liberators who would rid them of their oppressive rulers and give them a better way of life."
"Well, after what I just witnessed on that bloody altar, I don't blame these natives for helping the Spaniards to overhrow their rulers. This is a horrible place. Get me out of this hellhole now!" said George.
"Hellhole?" said Clarence. "By whose standards would you define a hellhole? And who are you to pass such judgements?"
"Enough of your smart-ass sarcasm Clarence! Point taken! Now show me the way out of here OK!"
"Where would you like to go?" Clarence replied.
"Take me to Africa, maybe there's a more humane culture there that I can fit into. Where's the nearest airport? Oh, don't tell me. I know. No Wright Brothers right?" George said in frustration.
"Now you're catching on." replied Clarence.
"How about a boat?"
"Boat?" replied the angel. "I'm afraid the most seaworthy rafts available won't be of much help in crossing the vast Atlantic Ocean. The great Viking sailors and European navigators never existed. No Phoenicians, no Leif Erikson, no Henry the Navigator, no Columbus, no Magellan, no da Gama, no Hudson and no Fulton. Even if you could build your own ship, there would be no compass for you to navigate with and no sextant either. Those instruments were never invented. I'm afraid you're stuck here George."
"Can I touch your robe and fly to Africa then?" asked George.
"You're cheating again, George, but alright. Touch my robe and we'll go there."
When they arrived in Africa, George saw thousands of African tribesmen being herded and whipped along a dirt path. They were guarded by other Africans with spears. "What are they doing to those poor men?" George asked.
"They are being enslaved by another tribe. Slavery was common in Africa long before Whites arrived." Clarence said." In fact, most of the slaves who were shipped to America were sold to the slave traders by African tribal leaders."
"That's sad." George said. "I want to meet Dr. Martin Luther King. Since his White assassin never existed, this great man is still alive. I bet he became a great tribal chief and leader of an advanced civilization. He will free these slaves from their cruel African masters. Take me to him Clarence."
"I don't think you want to go there, George."
"Yes I do! Take me to him now!"
"OK. If you insist. But don't say I didn't warn you!"
Clarence led George to a little village deep in the heart of Africa. The naked women and children stared at George in wonder. George was led to the dingy little hut of the tribal witchdoctor. There he saw a wild-looking man, covered in leopard skins, with a necklace of human teeth draped around his neck and a huge ring pierced through his nose.
"What the f*** is that?" George asked.
"Meet Witchdoctor Matunbo Lutha Kinga," Clarence said. "He never became Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King because there were no universities or seminaries built to educate him. Evil Europeans weren't there to create such opportunities. But you were right, George. He did become the tribe's spiritual and political leader. He specializes in casting evil spells. Perhaps he can help you?"
The witch doctor gazed in wonder at George. Then he motioned to his henchmen to seize young George. They grabbed George and tied him to a nearby tree.
"Stop it! Let me go! What are they going to do to me?" cried George hysterically.
"They're going to perform a ritual killing on you George. The good doctor King...I mean Kinga -- believes that by cutting your heart out while you are still alive, it will bring good fortune and fertility to his tribe." laughed Clarence.
"Clarence! Help me!...Get me out of here!" cried George.
"But it gets even better George. After he has removed your heart, he will cut your balls off so as to increase the virility of his tribesmen. Apparently Viagra hasn't been developed yet either!" laughed Clarence.
"Clarence! Clarence! Help me, Clarence! Help me...Clarence!!!!! Get these savages off of me!" screamed George.
"Savages?" replied Clarence. "That's a bit judgemental George, don't you think? Not to mention 'racist.'" Clarence chuckled.
"Clarence! This is no time for your wisecracks! Help!"
"But George, you told me you wanted to go to Africa and meet your anti-racist hero."
George replied: "OK! OK! Point taken! This part of Africa has not developed yet. I can see that! Take me to North Africa where Egypt and Carthage established great civilizations. Just get me out the hell out of here! Clarence! Please! Clarennnnnnce!"
Just as the witchdoctor's spear was about to puncture George's chest and carve out his beating heart, George vanished into thin air and was transported to the banks of the river Nile in Egypt.
"Thank you, Clarence. Thank you." George said. "I don't understand it. Why does so much of the world remain so brutal and primitive? I learned during Black History Month about many talented black inventors, scientists, scholars, and doctors. Men like Garrett Morgan, George Washington Carver, Benjamin Banneker, Frederick Douglass, Granville Woods, and Dr. Ben Carson, the top brain surgeon in all of America. Where are these accomplished men?"
Clarence replied: "Don't you understand? America and Africa, exist exactly as they did before the Europeans discovered them. Civilization had only been introduced to these people just a few hundred years ago by the Europeans. There are no universities, no hospitals, no transportation, no science, no medicine, no machines, no books. no fine arts. In fact, the wheel hasn't even been discovered in Sub-Saharan Africa! Those impressive black scientists, inventors, doctors, scholars, athletes, and entertainers you speak of were never given the opportunity to realize their full human potential because Europeans weren't around to introduce higher civilization and learning to them. It's often been said that my Boss works in mysterious ways, and that He often closes one window so that He can open another one. Though He never looked favorably upon the institution of slavery, the fact remains, Africans benefited immensely from their contact with the European peoples. But not in this world, George. You see, there are no George Washington Carvers in this non-European world, no Dr. Carsons, no Booker T. Washingtons, no Frederick Douglasses, no Benjamin Bannekers, no Michael Jordans, no Oprah Winfreys, no Bill Cosbys, no..."
"Stop it! That can't be!" cried George. "Let's walk over to the great pyramids of Egypt right now, and I'll show you one of the wonders of the world -- built by non-Whites."
They walked a few miles before George stopped and asked where the nearest toilet was. "Toilets?" replied the angel. There are no toilets in this world. Plumbing was developed by evil Europeans. The people in this world still relieve themselves in open fields. But you don't really need plumbing do you George? After all, didn't you once say to your father: 'You're just a plumber?' Oh well, I suppose not every man can become a 'distinguished professor' and 'critically acclaimed author' like your beloved Dr. Silverstein, eh, George? Is he the one who taught you to have such condescending elitism towards honest men of labor like your father?"
George sadly bowed his head in guilt and shame as a tear formed in his eye.
Clarence then turned around so George could relieve himself in the open desert.
"I need some toilet paper." George said.
"Toilet paper?" replied the angel. "There..."
"I know. I know. Toilet paper hasn't been invented. Hand me some wet leaves then."
Clarence obliged, and the two of them went on their way.
"I don't understand. According to my recollections from geography class, the pyramids should be near this very spot. We ought to be able to see them from miles away," said George.
"Well, George, I'm sure your professors never told you this, but the ancient Egyptians were not black or brown. They were Caucasians. The anthropologists who examined the Egyptian mummies confirmed this. There are no pyramids and no Sphinx either. And the Carthaginians who crossed the Alps and challenged Rome were Caucasian too."
George became depressed, but remained determined to prove his beliefs. "What's in Europe?" he asked.
"Europe became populated by Huns and other Asiatic tribes who pushed westward. They settled down a bit but life is much the same as it is in America. A nomadic existence based on hunting and food gathering. No great cities, no science, no culture, no fine art or music, no institutions of higher learning -- just a daily struggle against life and the elements of nature. In a Europe without Whites, the Roman Empire never came into existence, nor did the Greeks.
"Take me to Asia, then. Surely the great civilizations of Persia, India, China, and Japan will suit me," George said. "Clarence, the Taj Mahal, please."
"Taj Mahal?" replied the angel. "Don't you know that the Persian and Indian civilizations were established by ancient Indo-European tribes who crossed the continent and the Himalayas? They are the ones who civilized India and built the Taj Mahal. Those are the great civilizations that Marco Polo and Columbus were searching for. Did you know that Iran is Persian for "land of the Aryan?"
George said: "Don't tell me that Indians were White men! No way, man! That can't be. In the world I came from, I knew many Indians and Pakistanis and they were not White!"
Clarence explained: "As the centuries passed, the Indo-Europeans who created Indian civilization intermarried with the native majorities who populated the Indian subcontinent. Gradually there were less and less evil White people until they faded out completely, along with the advanced civilization they had built. You'll notice that there are still a few white-skinned and fair-haired Indians and Pakistanis around today -- in the world you came from that is.
George was worried. He knew he could never fit into the harsh, primitive world that he had been thrust into. Suddenly he thought of Japan. "Japan! I'll show you now, Clarence. Take me to Japan. If the Japanese can make TVs and cameras, then I'm sure I'll find a decent civilization that I can live in."
Clarence flew George to Japan. George saw that Japanese society was very orderly and civil, but it seemed as if almost everyone was either a rice farmer, fisherman, or a soldier. There were no cars, no skyscapers, no lights, no sciences, no technologies, no universities, no fine art or music, no books. It was an unadvancing agricultural society that had reached its highwater mark and seemed incapable of moving forward. George knew he could not live here either.
Clarence explained to Geeorge: "You see George, even the industrious Japanese and Chinese people had to rely on the evil Europeans to build the modern Asia that you had in mind. In this world, Japan exists exactly as it did before Commodore Perry's American ships arrived there in the 1850s and opened up Japanese society. There's no industry, no technology, no Fuji film, no Sony, no Panasonic, no Toyota, no Sushi bars, no baseball...none of the trappings of a truly high culture or the material comforts of modern life. These things don't exist in Japan or anywhere else because Europeans weren't there to create them and share them with the rest of the world. Would you care for another bowl of rice, George?"
George began to feel sick in his body and his mind. Not only was he depressed, but exposure to the elements of nature had left him physically ill. "Clarence, I've contracted some type of sickness. I know it's probably a stupid question for me to ask, but are there any anti-biotics here?" George asked.
"Anti-biotics? laughed Clarence. "They haven't even discovered the germ yet! There's no anti-biotics here. Though we could go visit Dr. Kinga again and see what he could do for you."
"Stop teasing me, Clarence! Just take me back to the world I knew!"
"Sorry George. I'm not authorized to do that. Only my Boss can make that call."
George broke down and began to weep and shake uncontrollably. The shattered young man had hit rock bottom and was now ripe for the intellectual and emotional reconstruction that Clarence had planned for him along.
"You see, George. Your father was right. You really had a wonderful race. Don't you see what a mistake it is to be ashamed of and guilty about your own European people, and to let them die out? This is what the world would be like without the creative spark of Edison, Ford, Pasteur and Marconi. No scientists, or mathematicians, or inventors or fine artists. No Archimedes, no Aristotle, no Aesop, no Socrates, no Alexander, no Renaissance, no Newton, no Kepler, no Mendel, no Faraday, no Guttenberg, no Homer, no Shakespeare, no Dickens, no Dante, no Twain, no Mozart, no Beethoven, no Tchaikovsky, no Bach, no Da Vinci, no Michelangelo, no Galileo, no Copernicus, no Aquinas, no Pascal. No Charlemagne, no Peter the Great, no Washington, no Jefferson, no Franklin. No Annals of Tacitus, no Magna Carta, no Declaration of Independence, no Emancipation Proclamation. No Venice, no Paris, no Madrid, no Lisbon, no Brussels, no Amsterdam, no Stockholm, no Berlin, no St. Petersburg, no Budapest, no Rome, no Milan, no Florence, no Vienna, no London, no New York, no Sydney. No leaning tower of Pisa, no Sistine Chapel, no Cathedral de Notre Dame, no Eiffel Tower, no Big Ben. No orchestras, no museums, no universities, no hospitals, no libraries, no theaters, no radio, no books, no TV, no electricity, no refrigeration, no heating, no plumbing, no steel, no stadiums, no vaccines, no cars, no planes, no ships, no dentists, no surgeons, no computers, no phones, and most importantly -- there's no creative genius to be found that could create and sustain the high level of civilization that you once knew. There's nothing for the people of this world to build on. It's just a daily struggle for subsistence -- a brutal planet where the few people who aren't mired in eternal ignorance and darkness seem to have reached their peak of civilization and are progressing no further."
Clarence went on to lecture the broken and depressed young man for seven days straight. He covered everything: history, biology, chemistry, physics, mathematics, astronomy, economics, philosophy, law, art, literature, music, architecture, medicine, politics, agriculture, morality, theology, logic, and all the other innovations, discoveries and contributions that the European peoples had made in every conceivable field of human endeavor. George listened closely to every word as layer after layer of dense fog was cleared away from the dark recesses of his re-born mind. Clarence wiped away every last vestige of the Marxist manure that modern "popular culture" had dumped into George's impressionable young mind. In its place, the wise angel erected a clean, healthy, and profound foundation of wisdom and moral character. By the time Clarence has finished his tour de force, George was cursing the name of Dr. Silverstein.
Clarence concluded by saying: "I hope you have found all of this to be educational, and I trust you have learned an important lesson. You see George, your father is not a bigot at all. He just had a proper sense of his European identity and a proud cultural and spiritual attachment to his genetic ancestors. It's who he is and it's who you are too." Clarence then floated away towards the heavens. Ever the ball-buster, the departing angel couldn't resist taunting young George one last time: "Enjoy your 'non-racist' world George!...and give my regards to the good Witchdoctor! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!..."
George began to sob like a baby. It was 2002 and he was alone and hungry in a backwards world where Europeans had never existed. Tears streaming down his face, he cried out to the stars: "Dear God...I know I haven't prayed to you since I was a little boy. My school wouldn't allow it. But I'm begging you now. Let me go back to the world I once knew. Oh, please, God. I humbly beg of you. I see what a blind fool I was. Your angel has shown me the light and enriched my shallow impoverished mind with priceless pearls of wisdom, for which I shall be eternally grateful. I understand now what my wise father was trying to tell me. Let me return to the world that I knew so that I might share this wealth of knowledge with the misguided youths of my lost and sick generation. Please God...take me back to my old world... a world where Europeans not only existed, but also enlightened and benefited the rest of your children with their unique creative ability and unmatched culture. I want to live in that civilized world. Please God!...please...take me back!..take me back!...Oh, God...please!"
Suddenly, there was an explosion and cloud of smoke. George found himself back in his college dormitory. God had heard his sincere prayer and was touched by it. Drunk with joy, George jumped into the showers before he could even remove his clothes! "Warm water! Soap! Life is beautiful!" he screamed.
George's floormates looked at him as if he was crazy.
"George! You smokin crack again?" asked a bewildered schoolmate.
"No, my friend. I haven't taken leave of my senses. I've come to them!" he replied. George then began to sing classic European folk songs in the shower. Miraculously, he was able to sing in many different languages. He sang O Sole Mio in Italian, Amazing Grace and America the Beautiful in English, When Irish Eyes Are Smiling in a thick Irish brogue, Gloire Immortelle in French, Das Ist Der Tag in German, as well as Belgian, Spanish, Scottish, and Scandanavian ballads. He grabbed a mop out of the janitor's hand and danced with it as he hummed the waltz from Sleeping Beauty. He imagined the mop as a beautiful lady of a European king's court, and himself a dashing young nobleman who would win her hand. Tears of sheer joy began to stream down his cheeks. Suddenly, the degenerate "music" of hip-hop and rap had not only lost all of its appeal to young George, but it actually disgusted him!
After his lengthy shower, George drove to a nearby restaurant and ordered two entrees. One was lasagna and the other a veal marsala. With his Italian food he had a Greek salad with Spanish olives and Russian dressing, a glass of French wine, followed by a dessert consisting of a German pastry, a Belgian waffle and a slice of good ole American apple pie. He finished his meal off with a hot cup of English tea, a Cuban cigar, and a Swiss chocolate. George said out loud: " Oh, those European people and their delicious cuisine. Clarence was right after all. What a wonderful race!"
George flirted with the waitresses the whole time. He appreciated the beauty of these women in a way he never had before. There was Heidi, a long-legged blonde bombshell with piercing blue eyes. George imagined one of her ancestors must have been a Viking queen from centuries gone by. Then there was Sophia, a Mediterranean knockout with long black hair flowing down to her waist, and huge olive eyes with fine facial features worthy of an ancient Roman goddess. And then there was Katie, a fiesty young Irish lass with hair as red as fire and eyes as green as the Emerald Isle itself. George fantasized about marrying all three of these European lovelies and having 10 kids with each of them! He was as giddy as a little boy on a snowy Christmas morning and smiled so much that the other customers wondered if he had just escaped from the nut house.
But suddenly, George's ecstasy was tempered by a dose of cold reality. His thoughts turned to the thousands of helpless Europeans stranded in Zimbabwe and South Africa. They were being murdered, brutalized, robbed, and raped ever since they had allowed themselves to be disposessed of the once-thriving African nations that their European ancestors had created for them. He thought of the many qualified Whites who were passed up for good jobs and college admissions solely because of racial quotas that discriminate against European-Americans. He thought about the declining birth rates in all of the European nations of the world, including America. He knew that childless Europeans everywhere were rapidly shrinking in numbers even as their own nations were being flooded with third-world immigration. He recalled the O.J. Simpson case, and how millions of happy American blacks celebrated and danced in the streets when that brutal murderer was set free by an all-black jury after he stabbed two Whites to death. He remembered the L.A. riots of 1992, where dozens of Whites, including women, were dragged out of their vehicles in broad daylight and beaten to death in the streets by packs of media-instigated monsters who then went unpunished by all-black juries! He remembered the bloody Cincinnati and Seattle race riots, where the White police officers were ordered not to intervene, even as they watched innocent Whites being beaten to a bloody pulp by roving gangs of black youths. He remembered when the black School Board of New Orleans removed the name of George Washington from one of its schools, saying that the father of our country was "an immoral example for the children." He remembed the time when a black New Jersey assemblyman named Wayne Bryant successfully intimidated his White colleagues into voting againt public school recitals of the Declaration of Independence because the author, Thomas Jefferson, "was a slave owner." He recalled a speech at Stanford University given by ex-President Bill Clinton, (the self-styled "first black President") in which Clinton boasted with glee that Europeans had already become the minority in California, and that Europeans and their culture would be in the minority nationwide by 2030. He recalled another speech at Stanford where Jesse Jackson led a student cheer: "Hey Hey Ho Ho, Western Civ. has got to go!" And George's European blood boiled in righteous wrath when he recalled how Jackson once said he had spit in White people's food when he was a young restaurant worker.
George's newfound knowledge of the past now gave him the logical insight to accurately project where the future was headed. And it wasn't a pretty picture! George understood that the European people were on a suicidal collision course with worldwide disaster and genocide by attrition. There was much work to be done if this course was to be altered. The Europeans must not perish from the face of the earth! George's rage turned into a calculated determination.
George couldn't wait to see his father. He longed to embrace him and apologize for all the foolish and disrespectful things he had said to him. But first, he had a score to settle with a certain college professor. Imagining himself to be a Roman gladiator preparing for a death match, George put on a clean shirt, jacket and tie. He strapped his portable CD player to his belt, adjusted the earphones, and popped in Tchaikovsky's Overture of 1812 with the volume on full blast. With his "game face" on, the European Gladiator marched across the campus square with a maniacal look in his eyes that frightened the hell out of all those he passed by. He swaggered into Dr. Silverstein's auditorium with steely resolve and a controlled rage, imagining himself in the arena of the Roman Colisseum. He quietly took a seat in the back of the auditorium. The nasal voiced Silverstein was whining on and on about racial and gender inequalities in racist European centered culture. It was vintage Silverstein. George's impressionable White schoolmates, with their baggy pants, colored hair, multiple earings, hip-hop clothes and backwards baseball caps, were swallowing Silverstein's poison, hook, line, and sinker. After purposely allowing Silverstein to spew his cultural toxin for about 15 minutes, George cleared his throat and raised his hand so that he could give the professor a piece of his newly educated mind.
"George? Is that you?" Silverstein said. "I remember you from last semester. I wasn't aware that you were here. I failed to recognize you in that jacket and tie, and without all of your earings and body piercings. I take it you must have enjoyed my course so much that you signed up again, eh? Class, this is George, my brightest student from last semester. He has a thorough grasp of the ideas presented in this course. George, would you be kind enough to tell my class about that excellent term paper you wrote about European racism, imperialism, homophobia, and the need for monetary reparations?"
And that's when the young Gladiator let loose a blistering, rapid-fire verbal barrage upon the unsuspecting professor.
"THAT'S ENOUGH SILVER-SHIT! You scheming devil! You sneaky, sanctiminious, swindling subversive. You festering fabricator of falsehoods! You pusillanimous purveyor of putrid pinko propaganda! How dare you corrupt our young minds with your filthy lies! We Europeans have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to apologize for, and everything to be proud of. And most of all, we don't owe anybody JACKSHIT -- not one thin dime! To the contrary, it is the rest of humanity that owes our ancestors a debt which can never be repaid and a debt for which we are too dignified ever to seek repayment! We are the rightful heirs and protectors of a rich cultural heritage. You vile, odious, malevolent manipulator! We are the sons of the Romans, the Greeks, Celtics, Vikings, Normans, Saxons, Goths, Franks, Gauls. You dare to inflict shame and guilt upon us? We Europeans didn't just contribute to civilization -- we ARE Civilization! Never again will we permit you shithead 'intellectuals' to tear our people down! Never again will we walk on eggshells when we speak, always fearing that we might be called 'racist.'
"What are you up to, anyway? How dare you corrupt my peers by undermining their proper respect for their European heritage, cultural institutions, and noble ancestors. How dare you turn these children of Europa against their own parents and blood ancestors? Why do you set forth false heroes for them to worship? Enough of your Marxist games of divide and conquer, you mendacious commie pinko subversive! Away with your Martin Luther King, Sacachawea, Ghandi, Jesse Jackass and Al Sharpton. I intend to set this class straight about who the great men of history truly were -- the European statesmen, scientists, mathematicians, explorers, monarchs, navigators, conquerers, inventors, artists, writers, poets, philosophers, theologians -- the innovative giants of history that you and your ilk have erased from our collective memories. You speak of a world liberated from European influence? Permit me to tell your students about such a world, Silver-shit, for I speak from experience, you wretched little conspiring monster! And if my expression of pride in who I am and where my family came from makes me a so-called 'racist,' then I proudly plead - GUILTY AS CHARGED!"
Dr. Silverstein turned white as a ghost. He was shellshocked and rendered speechless for the first time in his career! Never in all of his years at the university had a student dared so boldly, so irreverently, and so eloquently to challenge his authority.
Speaking from the heart as well as the mind, and with an eloquence and rhetorical skill he never thought he could muster, George broke out into a 60-minute monologue on history, science, philosophy, art, music, and all the other things that make up high civilization. The students were captivated by George's brilliant oratory. George filled the vacuums of their empty minds with the very same pearls which Clarence had bequeathed to him! The youths became inspired with a sense of spiritual communion and unity of purpose which they had lacked for all of their alienated lives. The spellbound students were moved to tears by the sincerity, eloquence, and sheer power of George's words.
Infused with a new sense of purpose in life, the students realized that they owed a debt to generations past as well as to those yet born. For the first time in their empty and shallow lives, they realized that there was something more to life than just ballgames, shopping malls, movies, MTV, video games, computer chatrooms, sex, drugs, and parties. George admonished them with a line from "Gladiator," his favorite movie: "What we do in life, echoes in eternity!" shouted George. His audience roared like hungry lions! Awakened from their cultural amnesia, their worldview shifted from the present to the eternal. George's speech was occasionally punctuated by spontaneous shouts from the audience as individual students recalled where their own parents or ancestors had come from. "Vive La France! Bella Italia! Deutschland Über Alles! Brit Grit! Viva Espana! Mother Russia! Fighting Irish!" Each shout was greeted with a warm smile by George and a brief applause as the students paid due respect to each of the glorious subcultures of the greater European family.
"Rise up sons and daughters of Europa!" George thundered. "Liberate yourselves from the oppressive yoke of political correctness and White guilt. Rise up from the stinking cesspool of shame, ignorance, depression, self-hatred, alienation, and degeneracy that slimy swindlers like Silver-shit have immersed you in. Let us never again cower like guilt-ridden pussies, always in fear of being labeled with the dreaded "R" word by self righteous, psuedo-intellectual phonies like Silver-shit! Let us never again allow cowardice to guide our thoughts, actions and words. Would the Spartans at Thermopolae have cowered so shamelessly before the likes of a Silver-shit? Or the Roman legionnaires who turned back Hannibal? Or the slave army of Sparticus? Or the Scottish rebels of William Wallace? Or the Minutemen at Lexington and Concord? Or the Texans at the Alamo? Or the Rebels and Yanks at Gettysburg? Hell no!!! And yet they had to overcome the frightful sound of clashing swords and hissing bullets, whereas you have trembled at the mere sound of spoken adjectives! Never again will we gutlessly degrade ourselves, thus betraying the memory and sacrifices of these noble ancestors who have been rolling over in their graves over the weakness and stupidity of their unworthy descendants! Let us act honorably and justly in our relations with all the races of the world, but let us never forget who WE are, nor the glorious heritage from whence WE came."
In an ironic turnabout, even the black students were moved by the power and logic of George's words. George told them to heed the sound advice of the black leader Booker T. Washington, who had always urged his fellow blacks to have good relations with Whites and to be self sufficient. George revealed to the black students that the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People was actually set up by liberals like Silverstein in order to lead blacks away from the positive influence of Booker T. Washington. George addressed them: "For over 80 years now, the rich liberals who control the media and the NAACP have been inculcating in blacks a blind hatred of us Whites, and then trapping many of your people into a vicious cycle of government dependency. What does it benefit your people to hate us Whites? Do you not see that these "bleeding heart" limosuine liberals and Mercedes Marxists -- along with their well-paid, race-baiting, black front men -- don't give two shits about you? Our common adversary is using you, patronizing you, manipulating you, and keeping you down for his own evil political purposes! Are you going to let him get away with that?!"
The black students suddenly realized that blacks as well as Europeans had been victimized by the political, economic, and social policies of liberals like Silverstein. They formed an "amen corner," nodding and expressing their approval of George's persuasive points of argument. "Yeah, that's right..... That's right....... Them Europeans ain't no joke!...Word up..." ad-libbed the black students. Gradually the hatred and suspicion that the blacks had initially felt towards George's speech faded away. Their anger then re-shifted itself, away from George -- and towards Silverstein! At that moment, Tyrone Jackson, a massive black football player, leapt out of his seat and pounced on Dr. Silverstein like a hungry black panther. With his mighty giant hand, the angry linebacker squeezed Silverstein's throat while pinning him to the floor. With his other hand he pummeled the side of Silverstein's reddened face with a devastating volley of crushing blows! "I'm a kill yo ass now, mutha fucca !" yelled Tyrone in righteous indignation. The whole auditoriom, blacks and Whites together, laughed and cheered hysterically as Tyrone battered the 120-pound Silverstein senseless. They howled in delight and "high-fived" each other as Tyrone mauled their common Marxist enemy to a state of near death. Had not some of Tyrone's teammates pulled him away, Silverstein would surely have perished of multiple skull fractures right there on the spot!
By the end of his booming tirade, George's reawakened friends were thundering in approval. In a delirious atmosphere reminiscient of a World Cup Soccer Final, the whole auditorium rose to its feet, screamed at the top of their lungs, and gave George a deafening, blood-curdling, mouth-foaming, heart-stopping ovation that actually shook the auditorium walls and reverberated throughout the entire campus! One by one the inspired students thanked George for helping them to rediscover their European pride and lost identity. The unstoppable power of truth had melted away years of Marxist guilt tripping, self hate, wimpishness, depression, degeneracy and brainwashing in just one unforgettable hour. In full mutiny, the screaming student rebels then stormed out of Silverstein's class like the legendary Charge of the Light Brigade, throwing their hip-hop baseball caps, text books, nose rings, and hip-hop/rap CDs at him as they stampeded out and vowed never to return. One strapping European lad slung his "Snoop Doggy Dog" CD at Silverstein with such force that the sharp disc shattered the lens on Silverstein's eyeglasses, slicing a deep gash just above his right eye. The unified European warriors lifted George upon their shoulders and carried him out of the auditorium like some conquering general from antiquity. George put his earphones back on and road his glorious human wave to the chorus of Beethoven's Ode to Joy. With a glint in his eye and a lump in his throat, he glanced up towards the sky, winked and said in his now hoarse and choked-up voice: "Thank you, Clarence. Thank you!"
Bleeding heavily and frightened out of his wits, Dr. Silverstein was left humiliated and visibly shaken. As he lay in a stinking puddle of his own urine, the toothless and bloodied professor realized that these reawakened sons and daughters of Europa could never again be brainwashed with "political correctness," White guilt, and self hatred. His real fear was that these proud youths would one day reclaim their birthright, their nations, and their common civilization back from the "multiculturalists" of the New World Order.
Silverstein was worried, but he remained confident that most Europeans would never learn the truth about their glorious past or their bleak future. After all, the newsmedia, Hollywood, the music industry, the major book-publishing houses, MTV, the colleges, the schools, the Democratic Party as well as much of the Republican party, and even many churches and corporations are run by "liberals" like Silverstein. With the power of "political correctness" in their hands, they can tear down our European ancesters, mock our institutions and traditions, instigate other races against the Whites, pit women against men, pit labor against management, pit the poor against the rich, flood America and Europe with mass immigration, foment endless wars, and push "hip-hop" music, homosexuality, "abstract art," massive taxation, endless debt and other societal poisons onto a confused, weak, and degenerate youth. After considering this, Silverstein smiled a devilish grin and muttered to himself: "A few of the sheep may wake up to what's being done to them, but the majority of these idiots never will." And he laughed with diabolical Marxist glee. "No, they won't figure it out until it's too late."
But for the first time ever, a voice of self-doubt had crept into the back of Silverstein's malevolent mind, gnawed inside his gut, and whispered into his ear. He again tried to reassure himself, muttering sotto voce: "Nah, they won't figure it all out.... .......Or will they?"