Genius Lives Matter

It must be Opposites Day, in which case I can present a contender for Genius Idea Of The Day to the utter, utter superbrain that is Melz Owusu. She is a crusader and a fearless champion of black values, or as we generally refer to such leading lights, a right pain in the arse who any rational establishment would be glad to see the back of. Melz wants to create a ‘decolonised curriculum’, a meaningless phrase into which much thought has gone. Erasing history would be a clearer statement of intent.

But she has run into the entirely predictable difficulty of perfectly decent people not wishing to be berated for their whiteness and steadfastly refusing to change everything about society to fit the feelings of a few malcontents with ideas way above their merits. In her own words, “I was like, hmm, this idea of transforming the university from the inside and having a decolonised curriculum isn’t going to happen with the way the structures of the university are.” Whatever that actually means. Because, of course, when black academics make statements it doesn’t matter if they make no sense.

So having failed to eradicate whiteness from multicultural campuses she has hit on the genius idea of apartheid. Black universities for black students. Perfect when you think about it because just as people like Owusu claim to feel unsafe in spaces shared with white people it is an absolute no-brainer that white people feel a good deal less safe in spaces shared with black people. So far her crowdfunding has raised £60,000, so she can afford one mediocre ‘perfessor’ for a year and perhaps a desk. Well done.

But wait, there’s more, she expects – of course she does – white people to pay for it by somehow extracting funding from existing universities. As ever with some communities of ‘the oppressed’ they want to break free from their chains and flee their bounds only to come back begging for their bus fare. But there is some merit in what she is trying to achieve; not for the benefit and betterment of the black community but for everybody else.  

Imagine if you will, an environment where speech is actually free. A place you can say what you think and argue the toss without the risk of inadvertently losing your education your future livelihood and even your personal safety by accidentally using words which were perfectly acceptable yesterday but last night were banned by some shadowy committee. Imagine a place where white lives actually do matter and that isn’t a controversial thing to say. Whiteyversity sounds like a place where business can be done.

Meanwhile in Blackiversity, they can wallow in their imaginary racism and dream up ever more perverse ways in which they are discriminated against. They can hate white people all they like and never be challenged and then when they come to leave the institution with an embedded sense of both entitlement and victimhood they will discover that they have actually created the world they thought they had fled from. No employer outside of the township campus they have just left will have any use for them; they will be forever dependent on handouts from the hated white state.

Just another campus party...

So, all in all, I see very few downsides. Not all black people are race baiting imbeciles; I suspect very few of them fall into this category, so here is the ideal place to corral them, far away from the public view. Removed from the normal world their writings will be unread, their utterances unbroadcast and anywhere outside their own little bubble of loathing they will be completely unknown. The more I look at this, the more I like it. Hell, let’s build the place ourselves!

Are We Losing the War?

I don’t do anger and hate. With me it is more akin to disappointment and avoid. But if there was ever any justification for what happened yesterday (which, in the scheme of things, really wasn’t very much at all) anger and hate, whipped up by the very people charged with keeping order, would be easy explanations. Of course, there are angry idiots on all sides and I instinctively abhor the kind of mindless white thug attitude that prevails in some, but boy were they provoked. These are not people I have ever or would ever associate with, and I have little sympathy, but I can’t hate them.

Everybody knew that last weekend would kick off. And yes, it was a minority who were violent, but that’s all it takes. But the protest was actively supported by the Mayor of London and police were instructed to bow before the black supremacists. How did that work out? The entirely predictable vandalism and injury which ensued was met with mostly mealy-mouthed platitudes threaded through with excuses for the ‘systemic’ racism the protesters had suffered. (I note, by the way, that systemic has replaced institutional, possibly because it is easier to spell; it is certainly no more valid.)

Yes, there were some notable exceptions. Priti Patel, as one would hope, was vociferous in her condemnation… and was then attacked by the opposition with a ridiculous gaslighting missive accusing her of gaslighting. I can’t recall what the Prime Minister said about last week, largely because I am struggling to remember what he has said about anything recently. But yesterday’s condemnation of the counter protest was boilerplate stuff, instantly forgettable. His empty words actually sounded more like Jeremy Corbyn.

But look how this weekend went. Unlike the previous week full of cap-wringing acquiescence, the whole week was spent in promulgating the entirely false ‘far right’ narrative. The right has long been fair game for the worst kind of racially charged rhetoric and the gathering anywhere of white British males is promoted by the media and establishment as Nazi-lite. It was relentless, with the inevitable result that everybody was expecting this mythical ‘extreme far right’, as Khan called them, to kick off.

And of course a few dozen idiots obliged. Raised pointing hands as they sang ‘In-ger-land!’ were portrayed as Nazi salutes, and there’s your wished-for fascist rally. Insults aimed at the BLM mob beyond the cordon were portrayed as direct threats against the police. And this morning it as announced that ‘over 100’ arrests were made. That must be pretty much every single man that raised a voice or a fist. The result is that now they can claim that their prediction came true.

I make no apology for using the word, but the BLM violence will now be whitewashed over as the real threat to society is suddenly society itself. The white working class majority – most of whom now genuinely fear for their future – has been framed as far right and it has been made very clear they are no longer welcome in London. In recent years we have learned a lot about this ‘framing’ of a debate – Brexit was a great example of how, when one side sets the agenda, the whole discussion becomes invalid.

Unfinished business

The left, embodied by Labour and Momentum NEEDS racism to exist and it absolutely does not want even one ‘coconut’ stepping out of line. They think they own the slave vote, just as they once owned the slaves themselves. But there will be no debate as long as one side refuses to let the others have an opinion of their own. Our language has been cleansed, our streets are being hosed down and the white is being washed out of the capital. There is no dialogue route out of this, so where do we go from here?

Etch-a-Sketch

Few, if any of the clamorous children baying for the symbolic execution of statuary deemed offensive to modern woke sensibilities would have any knowledge of the classic children’s toy. Since its inception in 1960 Etch-a-Sketch has provided countless hours of equal joy and frustration for generations of kids, long before the iPad was ever conceived. Primitive, clumsy, pedestrian, clunky, agricultural almost, it was nevertheless a boon to parents who could leave their charges alone for hours as, tongues out in concentration, they would twiddle their knobs to produce masterpieces of ephemera.

Fleeting because all that was required to destroy forever the work of many creative hours was to turn it upside down and shake. All gone as if it had never existed. Even a dismantled jigsaw still has the ability to be recreated but with the Etch-a-Sketch all that is left is a memory, and memories fade. Move on, nothing to see here. And eventually the device is related to the attic. children grow up and even the memory of the machine itself fades to nothing.

Following the removal of the statues of Colston and Milligan we hear that another icon, this time of far greater renown is to be erased from history. Lieutenant General, Lord Robert Stephenson Smyth Baden-Powell is a symbol of Britishness akin only to Kipling and Churchill and like those stalwarts had views on Nazism, fascism, communism, empire and many other things. His grave in Kenya is a national monument. Of what is he accused? I would suggest of being that symbol.

Black Lives Matter and its anarchist, communist, fascist agitators hate that a white man could have influence of any kind. And given that BP isn’t around to be forced to his knees, his image must be obliterated. Chaos is the only cause here and no symbol of whiteness must be allowed to stand. Because the truth is there is no underlying logic here, there is only hatred. Go back far enough, dig deep enough and you will find unsavoury episodes in every life. Where does it all end?

Allowing the BLM movement to pursue their anti-white vendetta to its end, will the madness only stop when everything created by white people has been destroyed? But that wouldn’t be the end, would it? In some theses, next it will be the white races themselves and when they have gone the genocides will continue, hue by hue, until only one statutorily defined shade of blackness has been agreed. In some form or other these identity issues will never go away.

Be prepared

But even if they tore down everything created by white people today, it would only herald a new age of white inventiveness, white enterprise and yes, white achievement. We would rebuild and reclaim what was once had and certain people who took no part in the rebuilding would wait their sullen turn until they could once again turn all of white history upside down and give it a good shake.

I Had a Dream

Wee Owen Jones and his merry band of revolutionary Marxists must be covering themselves in each other’s jizz, circle jerking to the beat of jungle drums. This is all their dreams come true; the noble savage, who they command, roused to anger and set against the enemy; the world which gave them everything they have. Powerless against their own nature, the mob enters a trance-like state where anything they can legitimise as a target becomes the focus for their destructive urges.

When a plague of locusts descends on the crops and in one concerted attack devours everything in sight, what do we call it? When an army of ants, organised into strict roles for which they have evolved, builds vast and intricate underground structures, what do we call it? Do we have a word to explain why starlings swoop and dive in their spectacular and intricate murmurations? We do have a word, as it happens; instinct. On the right cues, sometimes unfathomable to outsiders, crowds behave instinctively, driven by a madness which looks like a plan.

Generally, there is no commander in chief, no master, no single architect and the way people behave in normal life is more down to social economics than organisation. That is, people make their own decisions to buy to save, to participate, to vote… and by those many small actions a consensus is formed. But every now and then a perfect storm of circumstance arises which has the appearance of organised insurrection. The left – for this is straight out of their playbook – has seen and exploited the opportunities of the moment.

Over several decades, fear of offending has become an actual criminal matter. Meddlesome malcontents have busied themselves in identifying ever more subtle ways to be offended and angry and this has filtered through our increasingly restricted speech. Even simple descriptors such as black, brown and white have become insidiously charged with ill intent and a millennia of linguistic evolution in an almost entirely white population has resulted in a lexicon which recent incomers find, often after very detailed scrutiny indeed, offensive.

In order to disrupt the present, they have decided it is necessary to eradicate the past. You may want to reflect on other regimes which have done this. Mao’s cultural revolution, ISIS’s sacking of Palmyra… and every invading, subjugating army in history, many more of which were of what we call ‘minority ethnic’ origin than of whites. Anger over historic injustice is an impossible anger to maintain except by an enormous application of hypocrisy.

And where do you stop? Libraries are full of the works of people who had views which today some find objectionable; should we burn them down? The whole world of work is predicated on some people working hard for other people, often for insufficient reward; is this redolent of slavery; should work be abolished? And what of sport, where athletes openly display their physical superiority? The entire equalities thesis is moribund.

Tear down all the statues you like; the toppling of a statue does nothing other than satisfy a post-facto bloodlust. But why stop there? What of the schools, hospitals, universities, railway stations, public squares and other edifices endowed by people who may once have profited from a trade that was started by the ancestors of the very people who are now so aggrieved? Why not destroy every last piece of modern civilisation just in case there is any possibility that somebody, somewhere, however long ago, suffered some injustice?

There is no sense in your rage, no reason in your riotous assembly. Did you want to so disrespect the legacy of Martin Luther King Jnr that you would simply disregard his words? In that speech from 1963, which few of you have read, he implored: “In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.” You have been led on by people who are using your confected anger for their own destructive purposes. By people who want the overthrow of the very law and order that gives you your rights.

The only part of King's speech which any of you are likely to recall – although I sincerely doubt that the majority of you even know who he was – is this: “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color_[sic] of their skin but by the content of their character.” Well the content of your malicious and destructive character has been noted. And it will not quickly be forgotten.

No Matter

Well, I have to say we’ve been having a simply torrid time just lately. Jocasta and I had been rummaging around in the offence drawer for something to be angry about on somebody else’s behalf and just when we thought we’d found something really rather special it turns out that some other white people ruined it for us. I mean, that’s despicable and entirely typical of the type of privileged white meddlers in business that is none of theirs. You see, Jocasta and I – Peregrine, by the way, charmed, I’m sure – are professionals and it is utterly sine qua non that these matter are left to people like ourselves who know how to handle them.

Now,  it’s not that climate change isn’t racist, you understand, because it undeniably is, it’s just that those... people... those soi-disant white allies at the airport were being a little bit racist themselves. You see, in doing the bidding of the black lives matter chappies, they were guilty of cultural appropriation; they don’t realise just how insulting it must be for black people to use whites to do their bidding unpaid. It was positively ghastly; slavery is not satire, you know? And don’t take our word for it – just look what other black people think of them. And that pony tail? So nineties, pur-lease!

Now when J and I were doing our PhD – I say ours as we did it jointly – in ‘Intersectional Race and Gender Protocol Anomalies and their Impact on Oppositional Movements in the Societal Continuum of Class Struggle in the Twenty-First Century’, we learned to our cost not to help black folk. They are a proud and noble people but more trouble than they are worth; we say this because we care. Anyway, don’t get involved; they don’t like it and you may well end up getting yourself stabbed. It’s all in the dissertation.

Should you call us ‘doctor’, you ask? Well, perhaps not just yet, the old ‘dissie’ is with our supervisor; he told us it may take a while to make a decision.... although now you mention it, it has been since 2013. Anyway, the jolly old race game is old hat now; classic supply and demand. There’s been such an over-supply of nouveau racism now that everybody is doing it, it’s time to move on. So this morning, over our home-made quinoa, tempeh and sun-dried tomato breakfast bake, drizzled with liquid aminos and sprinkled with chia seeds (yum!) we hit on a simply super new crusade.

We hate it when rich people 

culturally appropriate poor people's problems.

Every year, a disproportionate number of uneducated, poor people from under-privileged neighbourhoods are driven to drink through ignorance and easy access to benefits. They suffer a higher rate of premature death than even we highly educated vegans through cumulative liver damage. And being white, they often don’t get the help they need, on account of the sensitivity with which interfering with their culture is viewed in society... or the possibility of being knifed. So, we aim to tackle the matter at source; we are off to chain ourselves to the gates of the Guinness Brewery. You can support us and see our progress on the hashtag #BlackLiversMatter.