Previous

Contents

Next

Racism Schmacism
by L. Neil Smith
[email protected]

Attribute to L. Neil Smith's The Libertarian Enterprise

I am a child of the Golden West. From the earliest memories I recall, one of society's most outstanding heroes has been the rodeo clown.

If you're a foreigner, or a "dude" in the original meaning of the term, you may not know that the rodeo clown is more than merely an entertainer. He's an absolutely essential member of the system that keeps a fallen cowboy from being trampled to death or gored by more animal than most individuals have ever seen in one place in their lives.

(I have recently learned to my astonishment that a majority of Americans has never touched a cow, nor even seen one in person any closer than from the interstate highway, let alone a raging Brahma bull.)

In any case, it's the clown's job to flap around and make noise, distracting the animal from finishing off its former rider while said rider gets up and walks—or is carried on a stretcher—from the arena. The trouble, of course, is that now the enraged and pointy mammal is focused on the clown, who must hop and dodge and run to stay untrampled.

In my view, this requires not only considerable skill, but real character (although rodeo clowns are monotonously portrayed in fiction as down-and-out losers) but then I've always believed, too, that the bravest of the brave is any skater who takes a bent stick out onto the ice.

By now, of course, you know that I'm writing about this subject because a hard-working rodeo clown, Tuffy Gessling, wore a rubber mask of Barack Obama, or whatever his name is, while performing at a rodeo in Missouri. In the current climate, this is a mortal sin. I didn't even know they have rodeos in Missouri (and they may not after this), which is not really the west, but the home of nesters, sodbusters, and, no doubt, sheep-men, descendants of would-be westward-bound pioneers.

Who gave up.

It's also home to the Missouri Information Analysis Center a fake security organization that passes on lies and threats to naive small town police officers and the general public—if you supported Ron Paul, you're a potential terrorist—from the Department of Homeland Security and the surrealistically mislabeled Southern Poverty Law Center.

Which may explain the abject, craven, crawling cowards who kicked Tuffy out of their rodeo association and barred him for life from rodeos in Missouri (this is a loss?) and then resigned and skulked away themselves, back into the woodwork like the cockroaches they resemble.

Nevertheless, a howling baboon chorus, consisting of the Marxist mass media (White Liberal Guilt Division) and every race and welfare pimp in the country, immediately started screeching that Tuffy ought to be hanged, drawn, quartered, covered with lighter fluid, set on fire, and peed on. It was amazingly like the hysterical reaction we have all observed in some Muslims if anyone dares to exercize their natural human freedom of expression to draw a cartoon poking fun at Mohammed.

Two points about this ...

The first is that, to any extent they may be sincere, they are seriously crippled, morally and mentally. Not to offend my sane and decent friends who are religious, I gave up the Imaginary Playmate in the Sky when I was eight years old, and never looked back. I'm not about to accept this awkward, incompetent, fumble-tongued, illegal alien with phony credentials, who has never held a real, grown-up job in his life, and who refuses to give us his real name, as my personal savior.

Secondly, Obama's worshippers cannot possibly fail to understand the abyssal depths of disgust and contempt in which any of the useful participants in this culture hold their demigod, a demonstrable domestic enemy of the Constitution, who has deliberately maimed—and is doing his absolute damnedest to finish off—the greatest civilization that ever existed. They just don't want to have to see that disgust and contempt visibly manifested. My advice to them: look away.

I am sick unto death of left-wing racism, aren't you?

Not a single American alive today was ever a slave—except, of course, of the military and the IRS. Not a single American alive today has ever kept slaves—except, of course, for the politicians and bureaucrats.

We created the New Media, in part, to make people, including the pimps and race-baiters, face the truth. Here it is: the grievances you are not entitled to bear, the victimhood you never earned, means no more than a free ride to you, a meal ticket. If you didn't have that (and you never did, really), you'd be scouting around for some other dodge.

But the free ride is about over and your ticket's been torn in half.

This has absolutely nothing to do with race, and everything to do with those who have been handed an excuse to lounge through life on the backs of everyone else. Most individuals, whatever color they happen to be, work hard trying to make a better life for themselves and their kids. But all too often they find themselves being held back by the parasites and four-flushers scattered thinly but noisily among them.

The Irish were as oppressed as any people in history. They were conquered, starved to death, used as serfs, and sold into slavery in the Caribbean. Scots who had been Highland farmers for generations were "cleared" off their land by the same "noble benefactors" who killed their cattle and burned their farms. They and their families were marched to the cold coast and told to gather seaweed for a living.

Seeking refuge here, most of them rolled their sleeves up and went to work, man, woman, and child. But a few became crooked politicians, corrupt policemen, grafting ward-heelers (these days we call them "community organizers"), and gave the rest of the Irish a reputation it took a century to overcome. Italians, too, have had to live with Hollywood's more or less insane glorification of the very worst among them.

Tuffy was doing his job as a clown, a job that some societies regard as sacred, deflating the rich and the powerful, the arrogant and the pompous. Barack Obama certainly qualifies for that kind of treatment. Comics did it on the radio and they do it now on late night TV. Jesters—dressed like the king—did it in the Middle Ages. In Greek comedy (the word derives from the Greek for zits, which ancient theater-goers thought were hilarious) actors would appear wearing enormous fake penises, with which they sprayed cottage cheese on their audience.

Beat that, Gallagher.

I say now an attack on Tuffy is an attack on five thousand years of Western history and tradition. Anybody who is outraged by what he did—or pretends to be for political reasons—is as evil and racist as the Ku Klux Klan they blabber over, but which, just like those cows, most of them have never seen, and don't know anything about.

Now: call me a racist and I'll give you what I gave the Canadians.

Was that worth reading?
Then why not: