Own Filth
Why do you
have to be
so
Why do you
have to be so
fucking raciest
we don't need
your type around
these Parts
Doing just fine
thank you very much
you hypocrite
Forever espousing
the so called failings
of others
while spilling your
own filth
on everyone
You are the one
who's creed we
definitely don't need
Chris McQueeney 11/26/14
This goes to all those who have a problem with another race or creed. There is a lot of blatant racism going on on both sided of the equation. I don't know enough about the death of that black man to argue with any credence...but it doesn't take an expert to decipher that both sides of this situation are fueled by anger and resentment. No person should be treated any differently due to the color of his or her skin, white or black...we are like fifty years away from the civil rights movement, we should be beyond this! On this day of our Thanksgiving I am grateful for many things and one of those things is the fact that I dont have to riot to make my point herd, all I have to do is type, but I am typing to a small croud. Happy Thanksgiving!!!
2 comments:
i feel you...
i think we have to be careful if we are preaching acceptance not to exclude...
its a narrow road for sure...
happy thanksgiving...
It is hard to say anything without feeling inadequate to it all. This stuff like Ferguson happens in its basic frame all the time without exploding all over the media. But this time the shape of things was just right and between the actual outrage and the media bellows fanning the flames, we now have what we have. But the deeper truth is that racism continues and likely will not stop no matter what we do, sometimes because when you live on the firing line there are plenty of incidents to sort of justify anyone's bad feelings. Perhaps in Oregon City where we can easily go days without encountering any blacks we can take whatever view and hold it. Move to North Portland and find out how you feel then. That goes both ways depending on what's inside you.
It's always and ever an inside job. My oldest memory of an unpleasant encounter with blacks was in Berkeley where I was born and as a first grader I was alone on the elementary playground of the school on the corner. A group of five older black boys came by and one of them spit on me with a mouth ful of Sen Sen. To this day I avoid licorish flavoring.
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