Blacks are a Huge Problem

White lives don't matter until they're gone

Luck decides who lives and who dies. Every street corner, every train car. Every encounter is a roll of the dice. Some of us win, some of us lose. Some read the patterns and learn, some ignore them and are forced to learn too late. Some survive the deadliest war in Europe since World War II, only to escape to America and not survive public transit with African Americans.

It goes without saying: this is a racial issue. It’s always the same colour; always the usual suspects. And it’s not just the headline-grabbing stabbings or shootings, it’s everything. The endless carjackings; the smash-and-grab robberies; the mobs flooding into stores and stripping the shelves; the assaults on trains and buses; the sucker-punches on sidewalks; the chaos in airports; the constant shoplifting, looting, vandalism, burglary, armed robbery. Every single time, the profile is the same.

They are so few—a group that makes up 13% of the population in America—and yet they comprise the overwhelming majority of violent crimes, property crime, of the random sociopathic public savagery we see online every day like this. Black males aged 14-49, just 3% of the population, commit 43% of the murders.

I said it bluntly earlier this year, and I’ll say it again: we don’t want to be around Black people. We don’t want to live near them. We don’t want to associate with them. When we see them coming, we go the other way. And what I’ve noticed is that increasingly people are agreeing with it. That tired chorus of woke scolds yelling ‘racist’ is shrinking, fading, losing steam. Because reality keeps proving me right. Every viral video, every senseless murder, every chaotic outburst makes the case louder than I ever could. We are justified.

Is there a better example than this of the axiom: around Black people, you cannot relax? That’s all she did! How could she have avoided this situation? Literally, do not turn your back on a Black man. That’s how you could have avoided it. And any boomer dad or uncle would see their young daughter or niece with no self-awareness sit in front of someone like that and wince. And if she got lucky and got up that day and walked out of that train, they would be called racist for that reaction. But that day was not her lucky day. He was not one of the ‘good ones’. She paid with her life.

That’s what it comes down to: luck. Sometimes you survive an encounter with an erratic Black man on public transit with only a bruise, a scar, or a shaken memory. Sometimes you end up the one on trial with a manslaughter charge, forced to explain why you defended yourself. And sometimes, like Iryna Zarutska, you don’t walk away at all.

That day was the unlucky day when she encountered one of those ones; that day was the unlucky day when it cost her her life, and she is now dead, forever. And her family is now left staring at the hole that used to be their daughter, sister, niece. How could it have been avoided? If she were racist.

We were conditioned to believe that any—any—level of prejudice, any shred of pattern recognition, is not just evil but the highest evil. Oh, you’re racist? I can’t even sit in the same room with you. You do a double-take, you look over your shoulder because a Black man is behind you? That’s a microaggression. You cross the street? That’s systemic racism. You instinctively tense up? That’s internalised hate. How dare you. How dare you feel that. Better to be dead than be caught thinking it. Better to bleed out on the floor than be called racist.

And yet, if she’d been just a little more racist, she’d be alive. If she had trusted that instinct, her parents would still have a daughter. If she saw that guy and turned and walked the other way, she’d be alive. If she had decided she wouldn’t turn her back to him and sit behind him, she might still be alive. One moment of racism would have kept her breathing.

But what are we to do when the lesson over and over and over again is, safest bet: don’t be near them. Safest bet. And who wants to gamble with their life? Your safest bet is simple: don’t be in a situation where they are also there. Next safest bet: if you see them, get away. It doesn’t matter if they notice; it doesn’t matter if it’s offensive or insulting. If that’s your safest bet, who in their right mind can argue that we shouldn’t behave this way?

Who would argue that you should risk your life and get stabbed to death for no reason, like her, like Austin Metcalf, like the endless list of other White victims, because you don’t want to be insensitive, because you’d hate to be racist. How’s that going to make the super predator feel? Or, how would that make an ordinary Black person feel? I care about my life more.

And I’m a single man. I can’t imagine what it’s like for a family. God forbid you’re a man with your wife and young children. At that point, you have an obligation to get away. You’re going to gamble the life of you, your spouse, and your children because you don’t want to hurt their feelings? You don’t want to be considered a ‘prejudiced person’, whatever that even means?

Is it worth your life? Me? Easy. No. I like being alive. I don’t like knives lodged in my throat. So I don’t go near Black people. And I understand perfectly well: there are a lot of Black people who are not violent, and there are a lot of Black people who are good people. I’m not going to roll the dice. What if I’m wrong? I’d rather be alive. I’d rather be alive and too racist than dead and not racist enough. Is that simple enough? Is that simple enough for you?

Who actually wants to live near these people? We all see it. First, they take the self-checkouts. Then the stores close early. Then the shelves get locked behind plexiglass. Then the stores leave the neighbourhood altogether. Grocery stores, pharmacies, fast food joints, malls. Curfews put in place. Security guards at every entrance. Requirements for chaperones. Why? Because they fuck it all up. Because who’s going to be after class tearing up McDonald’s in a riot? Who’s going to be at 7-Eleven stealing everything inside and ransacking the store? Who’s going to be at Walmart going through the self-checkout and not scanning any of the items?

And then after destroying it all, they whine about ‘food deserts’ and redlining. Really? It’s not redlining, it’s Blacklining. We see what goes on. We see what accompanies the Black population: crime, chaos, dishonesty, shamelessness, rudeness, lawlessness, the idea that the rules don’t apply. Tell me I’m wrong.

The pattern is clear: Black people have no accountability for their actions. Higher crime, blame the system. Higher violence, blame poverty. Higher everything? Blame us, blame the government, blame history. It’s never them, never something genetic, never their actions on their own. It’s always something else.

At the same time, there’s this suffocating expectation of White people to be 0.0% racist. That does not apply to them in the slightest. They do not like us; they are rude to us; they do not trust us; they’re prejudiced against us. They bring these problems around, if you say anything, if they get arrested, it’s a racist system. If you move away, that’s racist. If you move in, it’s gentrification, it’s racist.

At this point, people want to move as far away as possible, build a fence around them, and say, Fine. You invented everything. You’re all a bunch of doctors and engineers and Black excellence. Congratulations. We’re going to all live over here, and we’re not going to be able to dance, and we’ll be boring and lame—right, like they always say about us—sipping our matcha and lattes. But we’ll be safe. It’ll be quiet, peaceful, harmonious, clean. And you can all live over there, and we’ll build a giant fucking fence. God bless, lots of luck. That’s how people feel right now.

Now think about the impact on the city itself. Think about how this happened on public transit. We’re constantly told we need to move away from cars. Cars are polluting, cars are wasteful, cars create gridlock. And who wants a car, right? I think people want to live in a city that’s walkable and economical with public transit. It creates a sense of community, it’s better for the environment, it’s more efficient. We don’t have to live in a parking structure society where everybody has a car and there’s gridlock and traffic. But why can we not live like this?

Because in Chicago, someone was stabbed on the Orange Line. A few months before, another on the Blue Line. In Charlotte, a stabbing on the light rail. In New York City, people are getting thrown in front of the train or threatened with knives. So people choose not to use public transit. Trains and buses empty out. Costs spiral because ridership collapses. The public transit starts to become a liability—costs more to run it than it brings in revenue. So it hurts the government.

And then the people move away to the suburbs, where they have to commute. They get cars and have to park. And then we have to build giant highways through neighbourhoods so we can all get there. And then we lose hours of our lives every day in traffic. There’s a ripple effect. Do you understand this?

And what happens if there’s all this going on in the downtown and neighbourhoods? Business doesn’t want to be near it. Families don’t want to live near it. You think giant companies like Rolex want to be on the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, where their windows are being smashed all the time? They’re packing up and leaving.

In Chicago, they—Black people—regularly steal cars and then drive them through the windows of designer stores. The police aren’t allowed to chase them in vehicles. It only takes a few of those instances before the businesses pack it up and the people whose cars were stolen don’t go downtown altogether. And then what happens to the billions tied up in skyscrapers and amenities and infrastructure? It all starts to become a drain on public resources. So we get into bankruptcy, and then we don’t have enough resources for anything else.

They are literally a rot that is killing every one of our cities. And most of the population lives in cities. Cities are the beating heart of a nation. It’s where the economy runs, where people are educated, where careers are built, where the entertainment is. If the people live in the cities, if a country is its cities, and if they are killing the cities, they are literally killing America. It is a death spiral.

And the solution is so simple. Police. But people don’t like that answer. Because it means a lot of cops in Black neighbourhoods arresting a lot of Black people. A lot of Black people are going to get chased, some of them are going to die, and many of them are going to jail for a very long time. And we’re uncomfortable with that because it’s not equal, because we don’t like seeing too many Black people in prison. I say the police should go where the crime is. If that’s in the Black neighbourhoods, then so be it.

We’re killing ourselves, we’re killing our country, because we don’t want to be called racist as a society. And that’s it. So we’d rather live like this: 17-year-old high school athlete stabbed in the neck for nothing; 23-year-old White refugee from a war stabbed in the neck for no reason; police officer shot dead point blank for stopping to help with a flat tyre.

What kind of society do we want to live in? It’s a pressing question. Do we want to be too racist and safe or not racist enough and not have a society? It’s that simple. So people are going to have to get a little bit more comfortable with talking about this in racial terms, because that’s why we can’t solve it. And how do we know that?

Because if it were a White person stabbing a Black girl, there would be a public lynching. If it were a White person stabbing a 17-year-old Black kid, they would lynch him. If it were a White person pushing a Black person in front of a subway train, they would lynch him. That’s how you know it’s racial.

Because if it were a White person doing it as characterised and portrayed on television and in movies, we wouldn’t have a problem. Because there would be narratives, there would be policies, it would be called the new KKK, and they would spy on every White person and decimate the criminals. But because they’re Black, we can’t chase them, can’t charge them, can’t lock them away. We can’t even talk about it—the media won’t even cover it. And it’s gone on for too long. Too many bodies.

Look what’s become of it. It’s depressing. Paris, one of the world’s most beautiful cities, ruined—by this. Same with New York, same with LA. Look at what they’ve done to them. All because we’re afraid of being called racist. Well, I’m part of the new generation, and I can assure you I don’t give a single fuck about being called racist. I want our countries back. If that makes me racist, so be it. And increasingly, that’s how people feel about this.

We as Whites are constantly tripping over ourselves not to offend, bending over backwards to be sensitive, measuring every word, weighing every glance. Do they ever extend the same courtesy? When have you ever seen a Black person face real consequences for hurting us? When have you seen them hold back or go out of their way not to offend us to their own detriment? If that has ever happened in history, surely it has never been recorded, because I’ve never heard of such a thing. If anything, they’re antagonistic; they relish, they revel in offending us.

So let’s just be honest about what we’re dealing with here: we are on our own. When Austin Metcalf got stabbed, Black people raised $500,000 for his killer. When this attack happened on the subway, the chorus from Black people was that it was justified because of slavery. That’s what we’re dealing with here. As a White person, the word is fatigue. We are exhausted. We’re just fucking done. We don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Everyone’s watching the public outbursts, the scenes they create, the crime, violence, disrespect. Then, when you talk about it, they browbeat you; they want to lynch you for being racist. Someone says the N word, it’s an international incident. And when you call them on it, they are yelling in your face, you’re being called names, they want to hurt you. ‘You wouldn’t say that to my face!’ Why? Because you’re a tough guy? Because you’re on welfare and have nothing to lose? You’re not worried about an assault charge because you’re a fucking loser with no life? Or because you know that there’s going to be no social or legal repercussions for you?

You know what? You’re right. I don’t want to see your face; I don’t want to say anything to your face. I want to get as far the fuck away from you as possible, because I don’t want to live around violent maniacs—cry bully, fucking baby narcissist maniacs. I don’t want to live there; I don’t want to raise a family there; I don’t want to hear the excuses; I don’t want to hear how we’re racist; I don’t want to hear how you need our money. Good luck and good riddance.

That’s the attitude. We tried integrating. It didn’t work. This is the result. Who wants any part of it? Not even them. What’s the first thing they do when they make a lot of money? They get the fuck out of the ghetto. Why all the fuss about education? So they can send their kids to White schools. They want to live near us because they want our tax money. They want reparations because they want our money. It’s a toxic relationship. We want out.

Honest to God, what’s the benefit? What is the positive? All I see is a heavy net dragging in the water behind us, full of risks, resentment, and a constant storm of chaos and danger we can’t escape. They’re inflicting it on us, and we’re expected to tolerate it, and we’re being penalised for having an issue with it.

We’ve argued, pleaded, bent over backwards, sacrificed our own to keep it together. For what? The weight on our backs is too great, and we’ve carried it long enough. The water’s up to our necks, the storm’s already here, and no one’s coming to save us. Either we find the courage to fix what’s broken, or we cut the net loose. Otherwise, we drown with it.

Because history doesn’t reward the timid. And if we don’t carve out our own future, far from the storm, we’ll be nothing but bones beneath their boots, mourned by no one, forgotten by all.

---

- AF