As I write this, the entire world’s burning with unseen fires. Nobody’s putting them out. Not your usual wildfires. The kind that smolder and burn into your soul. Meanwhile the most powerful, despised and reviled of men’s petty contempt are running amok with rampant violence against common sense. As hatred grows and devours us we’re consumed with a quiet insanity. Blinded to the past. Holding fast and tight to the religion of a supreme superiority as might makes right. The ancestors who preached of peace and love are dead or dying.
The new generation feels no love, nor freedom. Their hatred is a reflection of who they are. The shattered mirrors of White Christians who preach love of family and friends as long as they are white like them. White. I’ll say it again. Those insufferable people who care about the unborn while perversely abusing children, and committing mass genocide. All have rights to liberty and the pursuit of happiness. There are those among us who cannot abide by that. Upstanding citizens embracing the truth as long as it only applies to them. Ugly Americans.
The rest of the world be damned. They’re inferior. They don’t deserve to sit with them at the table of plenty. They believe this and that in the name of their particular religion and god of choice. Obedient churchgoers who made a pact with evil and share each other’s despicable faith and beliefs, or lack thereof. Sermons handed down through the centuries. From mothers and fathers to sons and daughters, to be continued for generations. The profound fear and distrust of others.
Those rank strangers who believe that anyone who isn’t a white Christian is threatening their sheer existence. The last vestiges of a colorless heritage steeped in deceit and deception. As above, so below. Meanwhile the ruling class grows fatter, devious and more powerful. But they’re growing older too. Hiding behind masks instead of white hoods. Badges and guns instead of a hangmen's noose and baseball bats. Your best friend or close family member, or relative could be a closeted Nazi. I grew up with these guys.
A longtime acquaintance, even a good friend can be the very culprit of this resurgence of fear and hatred. It starts innocently enough. An intelligent person, one that you trust, and may respect and admire, suddenly admits to attending church at a regular Sunday mass. Out of the blue.
I don’t judge anyone for their beliefs. A friend relayed a story to me about someone we both know and considered a close friend. In their pub crawl soirée, this recent Christian convert confessed the unthinkable. He began crying and blurted out that he voted for Trump. Not him. He’s too intelligent. I was wrong. Meanwhile I called this traitorous expatriate’s sister to find out if this was true or an elaborate sick joke on everyone.
When I asked if it was true that he voted for this abomination, she replied with a snide response that threw me off. “Well,” she said, “who are you to get up on your moral high horse and judge him?” None of this makes any sense, but with the way the world’s headed right now, it makes perfect sense. They’re white. They possess that special power to destroy our dreams of freedom and equality. I don’t adhere to white nationalism or privilege. I never bought into that white Christian power trip propaganda. They have the ability to feel superior to others like they’re the chosen people. I still find it hard to believe. Any self-respecting Jew would never condone what their Zionist regime is doing after what their ancestors endured at the hands of the Nazis.
I never saw it coming. I think I was always unaware of their racist ideology because they appeared so smart about the ways of the world. I didn’t see the negativity coming from them. I never realized their true feelings. When I confronted him, he neither confirmed or denied that he voted for Trump. But the damage was done.
He asked who told me that. I told him that if it was true, it really doesn’t matter. You exposed yourself to others who don’t share in your dogmatic whiteness. The whole world should know. They need to be outed, shunned, and exposed for their small-minded actions. He then told me, as if to change the subject, “You know, to be honest with you, I never liked Charles Bukowski.” I laughed at his piss-poor attempt to throw a dig at me because he knows that I admire this poet. I couldn’t care less about any of that stuff.
In retrospect, I was naive enough not to realize how he acted towards me before any of this happened. He was always the negative protagonist in every project we worked on together. He had a way of turning things around and pushing his tainted triumph of the will and negativity. I let it slide, because I thought we were allies. You never know who your enemy is.