"Ever since man first left his cave and met a stranger with a different language and a new way of looking at things, the human race has had a dream: to kill him, so we don't have to learn his language or his new way of looking at things."
Why hello, there. Chris By-The-Throat here. Welcome to my well appointed and poorly lit parlour. Take a seat on my comfortable chaise lounge, my dear friend, and take a lick off this spliff. Believe me, the stuff I say makes much more sense that way. I thought we should take the time to chat about racism-what it is, what it means, and how we react to it. So put your feet up on my coffee table, don't mind the screams from the sex dungeon, and lets rap.
I am a racist-and so are you.
Let's dig into what racism really is. Racism is a deeply rooted human fear from the dusty cobwebs of our genetic urges. It is epitomized by my earlier quote from Earthican Rear Admiral Zapp Brannigan. With all the Ethnic American studies and feel good nonsense removed from it, it is nothing more than an automatic distaste of anything that doesn't look exactly like you. It is an artifact from a time when we killed motherfuckers to keep them away from our rancid fruit trees when we weren't dragging our women around by the hair or picking lice off each other. Sociologists say that all groups tend towards a homogeneous population given enough time, and the sociobiologist will say that this is why-deep in our genetic instructions is that mistrust of anything that does not share our DNA. That is all racism is-archaic genetic code that is still present. Everyone has it, because everyone evolved from the same fucking primordial soup; no one race has a monopoly on it no matter how badly some people would like to believe it is so, and furthermore, no one can do anything about it. That is what it is, and for good or ill, it will be like that until we evolve past Homo Sapiens and leave all our genetic detritus behind us.
It is fundamentally nothing more than an urge-like the urge to fuck, to spread our DNA. And that is where we get to the meat of this little discussion, my dear friend. Because we are treating that unconscious urge the same way the Victorians treated fucking. We acknowledge its presence, we accuse other people of it, but we only talk about it with shame and disgust, and occasional venom. We never see it in ourselves, or if we do, we never admit to it and often we make careers out of pointing it out like a rabid witch hunter ferreting out a medieval lesbian to mask the disgust we feel with ourselves for having it. But it is, despite its deplorable results, fundamentally a natural human urge, one shared by every breathing person on this planet, except perhaps for the truly transcendent like Jesus Christ, Buddha, or G.G. Allin. Shaming it, concealing it, cursing it-all of that only obfuscates the problem, it does not solve it.
It is, like the sex drive, not an urge that should be indulged freely-just like you don't see a hot girl on the street and kick her in the face so you can drag her to your car, you shouldn't let that deep rooted instinct sour your relations with persons who are not like you. But you need to acknowledge that every person has this instinct, this ugly little mental artifact, and that starts with you, yourself. Before you go out howling for blood in the streets because of this racist or that racist you need to take a look within the I-heart, because you have that same racist urge there, my friend. We all do, deep in places where we have been conditioned to be afraid to look.
Don't think this means that the KKK or the Aztlan Nation or the (Insert Ethnicity) Supremacy movement are any less made up of douches because of this post-those who make racism their primary purpose in life are sad, retarded creatures who deserve our pity and our boundless, Christlike love, unless they cross the line into violence in which case they deserve a shitload of .45 caliber ventilation. But having the urge buried in your genes does not make you morally equivalent to them any more than wanting to fuck that hot chick behind the coffee shop counter makes you morally equivalent to a rapist.
And this nuevo victorian attitude towards it is not getting us anywhere, and hasn't gotten us anywhere ever since we adopted it, any more than the actual Victorian's attitudes about sex protected them from syphilis. If we are going to solve this problem, start with your own sins, and move out. Don't spit accusations and call for burning at the stake. First acknowledge the darkness in your own heart, and then educate and uplift your brother with boundless love, and then if the cocksucker tries anything stupid, empty your magazine in his ass. Those are the three steps to ending racism. That, and nothing else, will save us from this plague.
