Excellent article from Uhuru Guru at SouthAfricaSucks.

To be, or not to be, a racist White bastard
The Uhuru Guru
http://southafricasucks.blogspot.com/2007/08/to-be-or-not-to-be-racist-white-bastard.html

It’s been a pretty exciting week for us bloggers here at “Sucko” (as the South Africa Sucks blog is known amongst some regulars). A crisp, clean and suave new look, thanks to the technical wizardry & aesthetic sensibilities of our resident Alpha geek, the irrepressible Eli the Bearded Biker. Take a bow, Eli!

Next, Doodler sets things on fire by his thoughtful musings on whether we should tone down our use of racial verbiage, of which I’m certainly the biggest culprit. Now Doodler is a man with a finely-honed sense of justice (or injustice, as the case may be) which is not too much of a surprise – he’s also a pretty damned good lawyer. His “Musings on WSAS” article drew an astounding all-time record of 140 comments at the last count.

One would have expected the mad flapping & fluttering in the chicken coop to have died down by now, yet the debate rages on. So dear readers, I felt it incumbent on me to crystallise what I can facetiously term as “editorial policy” here at SAS, but first, a brief backgrounder on why this blog exists in the first place…

It’s commonly accepted that ex-smokers tend to be much more ferocious in their opposition to smoking than those who never smoked. Many former smokers are walking caricatures of the Seinfeld Soup Nazi sans their swastika armbands, and often when I see one approaching, I would cringingly conceal the packet of Marlboro’s in my top pocket almost as if it was a yellow star with the words “Jude” emblazoned on it. In the self-righteous zeitgeist of our age, smokers (and racists) are undoubtedly the moral equivalent of yesteryear’s paedophiles and child murderers.

Just like an ex-smoker, a ‘former’ liberal is far more strident and outspoken opponent of his former vice. It is with a deep sense of shame and self-reproof that I must confess to having been such a vile, detestable creature. Having voted YES in the deceptive 1992 referendum, and having supported of all things the Democratic Alliance in 1994, there existed no better cure for my naïve, colour-blind libby fantasies than the harsh realities of the New! Improved! South Africa.

With horror I watched the charade of the Nuremberg-style “Truth & Reconciliation Commission” unfold, and connected the dots between the growing anti-White animus and a well-executed campaign of genocide disguised as a “transitional” crime wave. Instead of becoming a non-racial democratic utopia, things stayed exactly the same, except the racial shoe was now on the other foot. The same lies, the same deceptions, the same arrogance, except that the Marxist Afro-Nazi ANC made their Nat predecessors look like amateurs in comparison. By 2 000, it was clear that the ANC had managed to steal more in six short years, than what the Nats were able to embezzle in 48 years. The more they stole and destroyed, the louder they grunted & squealed about Apartheid and how evil the Whites were. Racist anti-White propaganda as relentlessly pumped out by the new regime became steadily more vicious, with a concomitant & directly-linked increase in black on White hate crimes. As racial hatred soared to levels never seen during even the “darkest” years of Apartheid, it dawned on me that the colour of my skin had become my de facto uniform in this undeclared, asymmetrical war of terror against Whites.

During this time, word reached me of what had happened to my friends Judy and Paul, some time in 1998. They were enjoying dinner with their two young children at their home in Bryanston when five “formerly disadvantaged” blacks kicked down their front door and stormed in. An orgy of racist violence ensued as the savage black beasts invaded. Paul was pistol-whipped and hog-tied with some nylon rope. His crying four year old son was viciously beaten, punched in the face, with his skull cracked and jaw broken. One of the black animals took a baseball bat and beat the little eight year old Jenna so viciously that her eyes popped out of her skull. With the children now subdued (rather, unconscious and barely alive) they raided the liquor cabinet and got uproariously drunk, peeing and stubbing out cigarettes on the carpet, and even defecating on Paul’s expensive leather lounge suite. They next plugged in a steam iron and turned the switch to max. For the next two hours, they mercilessly tortured Paul and Judy, burning them so badly that their skin fell off them in strips.

Paul only had about R 1 000 in the house. As a libby pacifist & true believer in the wonderful New South Africa, he didn’t own a gun. This enraged these stinking apes, and the burning & beating continued. Judy was beaten into semi-consciousness. Finally, when they realised there were no guns or major stashes of cash, one of the filthy k@ffirs cocked his gun, and shot Paul in the stomach as he lay writhing on the floor. Then they grabbed the naked & crying Judy, and started raping her. One of the shit skins then stopped, picked her up and placed her on top of Paul’s prostrate body. They then continued raping her while she was lying on her husband, ostensibly to ensure that the dying Paul would feel every thrust. Finally, one of the sub-humans cocked his pistol and executed Paul with a single shot to the temple. Judy was also shot through the head and left for dead, but remarkably she survived.

Judy lived, but she was permanently blinded. She was raped & sodomised so viciously that she had to go for an emergency hysterectomy. Her two children recovered, but will be physically scarred for life. Little Jenna lost most vision of her one eye and will go through life with extreme difficulty. Both children are so severely traumatised that one can argue it might have been more merciful if the savages killed the entire family.

As I was trying to digest this, arguing blithely that “not all blacks are bad, just 99% of them” came the news of the horrific 2003 triple murders of two White women and a one year old child. 24 year old Janine Drennen, her toddler Kayla and her mother-in-law Hester Rawstone was hijacked in front of a restaurant in Sunnyside, Pretoria, on 31 July 2003. They were taken to Stinkwater, a black-infested area just north of Pretoria, where they were mercilessly beaten, gang-raped and then shot execution style. First they raped and murdered the 52 year old Hester, whom they had shot in the stomach earlier. Then they shot the little one year old girl in the chest, and again in her face, in front of her mother, and next proceeded to rape Janine as she had to listen to the gurgling noises her dying baby was making. Finally, they repeatedly shot her, execution style. The 19 year old subhuman black scum stated in court "Apartheid" made him do it. When the judge remarked that he was only 3 years old when Apartheid ended, he had no response.

As mentioned, nothing like a bit of cold reality to divest one of romantic notions of “rainbow nation” bullshit. Understandably, these events didn’t exactly have me fantasising about sitting arm around the waist round a camp fire with Sipho and Thabo while singing kumbajaa…to be truthful I was having far darker fantasies…fantasies of soundproofing my garage and kitting it out with a variety of tools, including meat hooks, a small operating table and lots of large black plastic bags. The modus operandi of homicidal maniacs like Ed Gein & Jeffrey Dahmer suddenly seemed less sick & twisted, and more like an “Idiot’s Guide to butchering the Negroid carcass”. I purchased drill bits of varying sizes, and sat fondling the shiny steel tips as I daydreamed over how much blood spatter there would be as drill bit met shit skin, and how hard one had to press on various sections of the simian skull before penetration. My crazed thousand yard stare gave way to hysterical laughter as I imagined this Satan’s spawn screaming “ma-we”, ma-we” while I sliced little sections, (Chinese death of a thousand cuts style) of his stinking black flesh off with a blunt knife…anticipating the reaction of the racist black regime as they discovered dismembered corpses of their criminal brethren hanging in trees and dangling from lamp posts…

Thankfully, the little bit of sanity I had left, prevailed as it dawned on me that I was not a murdering animal like them. No matter how hard I tried to subdue it, my deep-rooted European culture and hard-wired Calvinist ROM BIOS guilt programming will at some point be the Achilles heel of my psychological make-up. The boiling rage and anger will have to be channelled elsewhere, or else the only solution was to remove myself from this God-awful Azanian reality, in the wan hope of purging the toxicity of rabid hatred these foul beasts evoke whenever they enter my vision.

It was a huge struggle, but with superhuman effort I managed to cap this evil, much like reactor 4 at Chernobyl was capped with tons of concrete. Every now and then, the pressure becomes unbearable, so for my personal use & abuse, SA Sucks comes in as a handy release valve. It comes in waves, so every racial epithet I pepper my crazed scribblings with can be likened to the crackling of a Geiger counter. This blog is not meant to give you warm, fuzzy feelings. Sadly dear reader, reading this blog is more like looking into the dark abyss of seething, fermenting & slowly churning hatred. It is the canvas upon which I, a crazed racist lunatic like to paint my apocalyptic gloom on.

I’m not here to brighten your day with happy tales of imminent White insurrection and a return to the good old days of influx control, nightly curfews which ensured our neighbourhoods shit skin free and safe to live in. The raison d’etre of this blog is to be a warning siren, to shake you out of your mortified stupor and to motivate you to get the fuck out of here while you still can.

At this point, its worth pointing out that I’m not the only one afflicted with these apocalyptic visions & desires. The internet is a funny thing – someone likened a website, or in this case, blog, to a bar of chocolate placed on the balcony of a 12th story apartment. You go back three days later, and sure enough there will be a long line of ants to it. There’s so many of them, where in hell did they come from? How did they discover it? And so it is with this blog. It was created as an experiment, intended to be the private, yet publicly accessible domain where I could anonymously discharge this terrible angst, hatred and animus which so consumes me – my little hate baby. First I had two, three then eventually thirty hits. Suddenly it became a few hundred a day. Now we’re up to 2 500 hits a day and climbing. It was never advertised or promoted in any way, shape or form, nor will it ever be.

If anything, I do derive cold consolation from the fact that I’m not the only one going stark raving mad, not the only one bursting with seething, all-consuming hatred and murderous thoughts. For a long time I thought I was alone in this grim awareness, and with respect to the stark racial realities I started sensing, felt much like the little boy in the movie ‘The Sixth Sense’, who “sees dead people”.

It seems there are many thousands who a mere ten years ago would have shunned this blog like the pox. Ten years ago even I would have been aghast at what I’ve created here. Every day, that little hit counter tells me there are thousands who are also “seeing the dead people” I see. Friedrich Nietsche said: “Those who were seen dancing, were thought mad by those who didn’t hear the music”. Every day, more and more people are unplugging themselves from the Matrix of political correctness, hurling off the shackles of this intellectual totalitarianism and saying “be damned, I am a racist and I’m god damned PROUD of it!”

Where will this all lead to? Who knows? If the stark truth of this blog will compel people to realise the mortal danger they’re in, motivate them to leave and in so doing save a precious White lives, that’s reward enough for me. I will continue doing this until I also leave, or until they come to take me away. As for toning down my “racist rhetoric” and use of inflammatory epithets: you’ve got to be shitting me! This is not Oprah Winfrey. We, self-confessed amateurs, do “vigilante or guerrilla journalism” here. We don’t ask for your money, nor will we ever. We don’t advertise this blog, nor will we ever. We don’t chase any awards or accolades.

Consider for a moment that the South African Blog of the Year award went to “So Close” written by some lady called Tertia. Tertia, a very attractive young woman who works for IBM, created her prize-winning blog not even one year ago. She boasts approximately 2.6 million hits in this time – remarkable, especially when one considers that her posts of today consisted of 1) her plastic surgeon telling her she has big ears, 2) her announcing to the rapt world that her period started today, 3) a poll which probes how often people in her household are washing their hair, and 4) her upcoming boob enhancement op. I don’t begrudge the lovely Tertia her phenomenal success, but if this is any indication of popular culture in Azania today, we’re in much deeper shit than I suspected.

So dear reader, to conclude this seemingly endless rant, let me confirm there are no dramatic sea changes or Damascean conversions of any sort happening at SA Sucks. Nappy-headed flat-noses and burry-headed slope-heads they are, and pinkfoots & simian monkeys they will remain, for as long as I'm around. But in deference to those easily offended creatures with more fragile, sensitive constitutions, who seem more aghast & morally outraged at seeing the word kaffir or nigger used openly than the inhumanly cruel & savage deeds of our SBG’s, I give you Doodler, Uncle Cracker, Siegfied and TruthSayer USA, who may be more charitable & tactful than I, Dark Raven, Knorrig and Eli have been. You’ve asked for some variety, I hope this constitutes a fair compromise.

A warm & sincere thanks for your interest and support of SA Sucks, from all of us.
Remember the fourteen words.