My friend, the racist.

I've not felt compelled of late to share my thoughts, what with being so busy in work, preparing for the new arrival, and just enjoying the political roller-coaster that's been the televised debates and the election itself. Those things, and others, have kept me pre-occupied and happy enough to leave the blogosphere to it's own devices.
Then out of the blue I receive a text message that was so astounding in it's thinly veiled racism that I find myself back at the keyboard.
The guy that sent it to me claims he's not racist (would it be wrong to note that BNP leader Nick Griffin claims the same?), and (unlike Nick Griffin who surely knows he's a bigoted lard sack of intolerance and hate) I think he genuinely believes he isn't.
So to help my racist friend understand just how racist he is (I'm doing this out of love in the hope that together we can make a better world, ish), I've de-constructed the version he put on Facebook:

If we marched for our race and rights, you would call us racists.

This is not a great start as it's immediately evasive. It soon becomes apparent who “we” and “you” are so why wasn't the author comfortable stating so from the outset? Perhaps because if they had it would all too soon have descended into farce as we try to fathom exactly which 'white rights' we are currently denied to the extent that we would need to march. I'm certainly not aware of being denied any rights, including the rights to march and engage in legitimate protest, on account of my ethnicity as a white man. On that basis alone I can't help but see the claim as inflammatory and designed to promote racial tension.

You are proud to be black, brown. yellow and orange (just felt the need to interject at this point to say how pleased I am that the Umpa-Lumpas are represented), and you're not afraid to announce it, but when we announce our white pride, you call us racist.

This is difficult for me to address because I can only do so on assumption as with not being black, brown, yellow, orange or purple or blue, I can sing a rai.. sorry.. I have never suffered ridicule and persecution based on my ethnicity. I'm not helped by the fact that I can't claim to understand exactly what “white pride” is supposed to be either. Am I or should I be proud to be white? My being white would never have meant I was treated as sub-human, so why would I feel the need to reclaim something that has never been forcibly stripped from me? What significance does my whiteness have on how proud I feel? I feel a sense of pride in my achievements and the achievements of those close to me, but my whiteness has no bearing on that. I think I'm probably labouring the point a bit but I just don't see where the “white” fits in, other than to be inflammatory and promote racial tension of course.

You rob us, carjack us, and shoot at us, but when a white police officer shoots a black gang member or beats up a black drug dealer running from the law and posing a threat to society, you call him a racist.

Wow! So, in context, all black, brown, yellow and orange people are violent, gun toting, drug dealing thieves. It follows then that us whites are all fine upstanding law abiding citizens, hence the lack of white people currently in prison! Good job that's indisputable or someone might think it was inflammatory and designed to promote racial tension (last time I say that - promise).
The police are tasked with upholding the law, they are not the dispensers of arbitrary justice (well, they're not supposed to be anyway).

Why is it that only whites can be racist?

It isn't. Racism is faultlessly tolerant in its bigotry.

There is nothing improper about this text message.

Apart from the fact it's overtly racist and designed to create division of course.

Let's see which of you are proud enough to send it on. I sadly don't think many will. That's why we have LOST most of OUR RIGHTS in this country. We won't stand up for ourselves! BE PROUD TO BE WHITE! It's not a crime YET..... but getting very close!

The level of ignorance on display here would shame a lump of igneous rock, right down to the short-sightedness of the author in presenting an opportunity whereby simply attempting to refute the text would in itself disprove the author's premise. Oh irony, you sexy bitch! (someone else can deal with that casual misogyny.)

It is estimated that ONLY 5% of those reaching this point in this text message, will pass it on.

Estimated by who? That's up there with: 73% of statistics are made up on the spot; 13% of people are unlucky; and 100% of this blog's authors see that figure as another attempt at creating a sense of marginalisation where none exists.

Over the next few weeks England will be awash with flags of St George, and the pubs throughout the land will be packed with football fans cheering on England at the World Cup in South Africa. Will every flag bearer be white? Will every drinker screaming his passion at the TV be white? Will every player pulling on the shirt and representing my country be white?

I'm an overweight, middle aged, balding, academically weak, white, heterosexual male, who was born and raised in England. So what?

Everyone Loves A Log

“Because they weren’t all your friends and you don’t want to be reunited with them”

A casual glance at the last book I read had me thinking: I’m not what you might consider a “people person”, and I need to read more books. I’ve always considered myself friendly. I like to think I’m polite. I’m certainly civil. A little too sarcastic and cynical sometimes, but never mean or malicious. I have a small selection of friends who I love and would do anything (within reason and current legislation) for. So why is it when I get friend requests on Facebook I automatically click “Ignore”? Why don’t I want to be e-friends? What’s wrong with sharing a virtual pint with some guy who stumbled across your name and vaguely recalls taking the piss out of your art in the 3^rd year of senior school?

People I’ve invested considerable personal time in I’ve allowed to become consigned to history. They’re memories. Part of a bygone age when I had hair and considerably less body mass, and I have no desire to rekindle or replace them. The only “friends” suitable for a virtual network are surely virtual ones. Those I’ve found myself sharing a beach with, on a tiny island in the monstrous ocean that is the online community. Whose shared interests mirror my own and as such the essence of the friendship is as purely superficial as the virtual community that spawned it. I have genuine virtual love for a fat ginger Welshman. In the real world I have a work colleague who makes semi-regular trips to Jersey and whenever he does I wonder how Doomus is! When I think of Sheffield (although I try not to obviously) I think of Madameye and Paws and I bless the fact I came to virtually know them. And most days driving home from work as I pass the Liverpool John Moores building I wonder how G-phoenix is progressing.

I kind of have a rationale: If you knew me then but don’t know me now… There’s a reason!

Willfull Neglect

It has been pointed out that since selling my soul to Facebook I’ve somewhat neglected my blog. While true, it’s unfair to blame my new mistress for this neglect and rather the banality of my recent existence. Work is as unfulfilling as I have come to expect and I can see history repeating itself as the ‘path of least resistance’ is currently being weeded and a nice fence erected along it’s edging. The end result being of course that those that do will now do more and those that don’t will continue to feed their fat faces and knock off early to play golf.

White & Nerdy

Having taken to this blog thing like a crispy duck to pancakes, Mr Phil has now set me on the path to Facebook. How do I repay him? By getting all Brokeback on his (pardon the pun) ass and telling all his e-friends that we’ve had bum love. We haven’t, and save some catastrophic lifestyle changes on both our parts it’s pretty unlikely we ever will. Sure we may be missing out, but it’s something I think we’ll both have to learn to live with.

What’s really upset me though is that in the past 24 hours Mr Phil has subliminally forced me into taking a Star Wars Quiz and a Movie Quotes Quiz. To my shame I’ve scored 100% in each. So while my puerile nonsense is transparently for comedic effect, Mr Phil is clearly an evil genius.