Gut Rumbles

March 22, 2004


I could give a lovely fuck what Oliver Willis thinks of me. (yeah--no link, buddy) But I DO NOT consider myself to be a racist. I've written some pretty incendiary stuff on this blog about the plight of blacks in America today, but I still stand my ground on one simple fact. The "N-word" would vanish from the vocabulary if black people stopped engaging in so much self-destructive behavior.

Go to school. Get a job. Work hard. Stop wearing your goddam baseball caps turned backward (which I just learned this weekend is the sign for a gay guy willing to give a blow-job to another man. That way, the receiver will have something to read when you go down on him.) Bejus. Stop killing each other.
Lay down the crack-pipes and stop calling your wimmen 'hoes.

But I suppose that kind of advice is considered to be racist talk on my part.

Okay, Oliver, let's take a ride through Hitch Village in downtown Savannah after midnight. YOU tell ME what you see there, if we make it out alive. Got-dam. I refuse to deny the obvious, no matter who gets their feelings hurt.

Nobody should live in a place like that. And nobody really HAS to if they want a way out. But welfare checks, illegitimate childern, drive-by shootings, dropping out of school, gangs and drugs are NOT the way to get out of there. That's the way you condemn yourself to a LIFE spent there.

Deny the obvious all you want to, but you're not doing anybody any favors when you do. Call me a racist, too, if that makes you feel better. I don't care. I came from a coal mining camp in Harlan County, Kentucky, and don't tell me that white skin got me where I went in life from there. That place made Hitch Village look like luxury condos. Every member of my famly went forth and prospered from there.

It can be done.