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Ext User(Clough)
02-05-2006, 04:36 AM
On Mon, 1 May 2006 13:57:38 -0400, Rance <rance@home.now> wrote:

>Manny <r9htz26vx45@mangusta.e4ward.com> wrote:
>
>> The Anti-Racist Pathology
>>
>> by Robert Grey

>You're a white supremacist because
>your WHITENESS turns out to be the only estimated asset you have to
>promote, and any esteem you have hinges solely on your forsaking your
>individuality. By promoting it (your whiteness) -- with its alleged
>higher IQ averages and subsequent inventiveness -- you subsume your
>identity into the history of the white race, coattailing on the
>achievements of others by conscripting them into your white collective.
> In reality, you exist on the fringes of humanity, regardless of your
>race, on the most primitive margins, and unfit for the future of
>humanity.

Well said and right on the mark.

Bob Dylan put it this way:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The South politician preaches to the poor white man,
"You got more than the blacks, don't complain.
You're better than them, you been born with white skin," they explain.
And the Negro's name
Is used it is plain
For the politician's gain
As he rises to fame
And the poor white remains
On the caboose of the train
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their game.

The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid,
And the marshals and cops get the same,
But the poor white man's used in the hands of them all like a tool.
He's taught in his school
From the start by the rule
That the laws are with him
To protect his white skin
To keep up his hate
So he never thinks straight
'Bout the shape that he's in
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their game.

From the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks,
And the hoof beats pound in his brain.
And he's taught how to walk in a pack
Shoot in the back
With his fist in a clinch
To hang and to lynch
To hide 'neath the hood
To kill with no pain
Like a dog on a chain
He ain't a-got no name
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their game.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clough

Ext User(isaac_the_blind)
02-05-2006, 07:52 AM
Clough wrote:
> On Mon, 1 May 2006 13:57:38 -0400, Rance <rance@home.now> wrote:
>
>> Manny <r9htz26vx45@mangusta.e4ward.com> wrote:
>>
>>> The Anti-Racist Pathology
>>>
>>> by Robert Grey
>
>> You're a white supremacist because
>> your WHITENESS turns out to be the only estimated asset you have to
>> promote, and any esteem you have hinges solely on your forsaking your
>> individuality. By promoting it (your whiteness) -- with its alleged
>> higher IQ averages and subsequent inventiveness -- you subsume your
>> identity into the history of the white race, coattailing on the
>> achievements of others by conscripting them into your white collective.
>> In reality, you exist on the fringes of humanity, regardless of your
>> race, on the most primitive margins, and unfit for the future of
>> humanity.
>
> Well said and right on the mark.
>
> Bob Dylan put it this way:
>
> ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
> The South politician preaches to the poor white man,
> "You got more than the blacks, don't complain.
> You're better than them, you been born with white skin," they explain.
> And the Negro's name
> Is used it is plain
> For the politician's gain
> As he rises to fame
> And the poor white remains
> On the caboose of the train
> But it ain't him to blame
> He's only a pawn in their game.
>
> The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid,
> And the marshals and cops get the same,
> But the poor white man's used in the hands of them all like a tool.
> He's taught in his school
> From the start by the rule
> That the laws are with him
> To protect his white skin
> To keep up his hate
> So he never thinks straight
> 'Bout the shape that he's in
> But it ain't him to blame
> He's only a pawn in their game.
>
> From the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks,
> And the hoof beats pound in his brain.
> And he's taught how to walk in a pack
> Shoot in the back
> With his fist in a clinch
> To hang and to lynch
> To hide 'neath the hood
> To kill with no pain
> Like a dog on a chain
> He ain't a-got no name
> But it ain't him to blame
> He's only a pawn in their game.
>
> -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
> Clough
>
>
>
>
Has anyone old you that you're not very bright to post your rubbish here?
Isaac.