What Conservatism Really Means

Sullivan nails it:

For conservatism to copy liberalism by always seeking "solutions" to problems and convincing "the right coalitions" of people to look to government for the satisfaction of their needs would be a mistake in my view. It may not be a mistake for Republicanism, an amorphous political entity that does what it wants in the pursuit of power. Maybe aiming for a "Sams Club" coalition or a Jewish-evangelical alliance or "durable majority" on Rove's lines makes sense for a political party or movement trying out new policies for new clients. But conservatism as a pragmatic, minimalist sensibility toward governance, conservatism as a reflexive preference for freedom, conservatism as a school of thought defined by the view that solutions are often worse than the problems: not so much.

"Was He Black?"

For those of you who don't know, I went to New York City last week to attend the Milton Friedman Prize award dinner. It--the dinner-- was a good time.

Afterward, a few of us younger folk went out on the town, determined to show New Yorkers how we Beltway kids do it up -- and 'do it up' we did.

After we shut the bars down, we wandered around the streets of New York looking for something to eat. I grew weary of waiting on those less-sober members of our group lagging behind and ducked into McDonald's. Apparently, when my friends caught up to me and were denied access to the Mickey D's bathroom, they took off without me. No big deal -- in the age of cell phones, I could catch up when my breakfast burritos were ready.

Well, there was one individual in the place rather upset with the service. He began berating a young woman behind the counter, walked away momentarily, and then came back for another chance at deriding her. With a style I can best describe as "Oh no you di'int" (with obligatory effeminate head swivel, minus the snapping fingers), he said to her:

"You know what, you are a terrible employer."

Far be it from me to let someone show such disrespect for a service worker repeatedly, but then with such an abuse of the language? Yeah. I had to say something:

"The word is employee."

He didn't take that very well.

So, in his diminutive angry way, he follows me outside threatening to do all sorts of harm to me and going on about his origins from "the ghetto." (Personal note: If someone is in your face telling you their personal history about what qualifies them to pummel you, and especially if it doesn't sound very convincing, chances are they are full of it.) I was less than impressed with the performance, but was still in my tux and not looking for trouble. I just walked away, eating my food and drinking my orange juice.

He runs after me around the corner and then starts on about "you white people," which of course, I also couldn't let slide. I take a sip from my oj and say "Actually, my father is black--but whatever." His response was to inform me that he wasn't really interested in that little bit of information, in admittedly more graphic and direct terms. I keep walking.

The next thing I know, he hurls his drink at my head. I don't see it coming, it stunned me, and temporarily blinded me in my right eye. The nerves were working, but all I could see were indistinct shapes and I could feel my eye swelling immediately. It tore open the skin beneath my eyebrow and I started bleeding everywhere.

I was, for the first time, legitimately frightened because I was, for all intents and purposes, incapacitated for self-defense. All he had to do was come at me from my right side and he could have torn me up.

But for all his tough talk about being from the 'hood', the blood coming from my head seems to have been enough for him and he got the hell out of there. (People where I come from would have then hit me with a fist to knock me down to the ground, kicked me repeatedly and taken my wallet. I've never claimed to be a hard ass, I've just met enough of them in my time. But I digress.)

After a terse but calm phone call, my friends find me with the help of a man I'll call "Tyrone," who apparently works in urban pharmaceutical sales. (He was in the area when my friends freaked out upon hearing my phone call. My friends were not in the market for his wares.)

Somebody called the police, I went back to McDonald's and tried to clean myself up. One of the men at McDonald's--I'm guessing an off-the-clock employee--asked me something I thought strange: "Was he black?" I said yeah, and rattled off a description: light-skinned, early 20s, kinda chubby, and about 5'9", at best. The man was visibly disappointed, but not surprised.

The NYPD shows up in pretty short order, treat me with nothing but respect and are very cool-- to me. I give them the same description I gave to the random McDonald's guy. They ask if I could be any more specific, and I really couldn't.

Then an officer says they have someone out front and asks me to ID him. They wanted me to look at him through the window of the restaurant, which had a glare from the lights inside and I was down one eye, at that particular moment, so I was tentative about making any kind of identification for court. But as soon as I could make out the body, I knew it was not even close to what I said.

They were talking to Tyrone.

Tyrone is easily in his 30s, if not 40s, around 6'4", skinny as a rail, and black as midnight. Other than the race identifier, they couldn't have been more off. It seems that Tyrone has had some run-ins with New York's finest in the past, and the police were none-too-happy to see him. I can't make a judgment on whether or not Tyrone is a good guy, but he helped my friends -- thereby helping me--and for that I am grateful to him.

I am also grateful to the NYPD for their prompt arrival and professionalism when they dealt with me. The EMTs in the ambulance were quite cool, as were the staff members at Roosevelt Hospital who stitched me up. I also hope that the guy in the Emergency Room with me is ok-- the man was working himself so hard that after passing out and vomiting at work, he wanted to complete his shift instead of going to the hospital.

So, after a ridiculously short stay in the ER, I go back to my (paternal) uncle's place to pass out on the couch. A couple hours later, I wake up and let him know what happened so he doesn't freak out when he passes me sleeping in the living room with a bloody swollen eye.

He was very upset that my weekend in New York started off this way and asked me "Was he black?"

My uncle was visibly disappointed, but not surprised.

Please, God, No!

I've been super busy trying to catch up from my trip to New York, but I will write up a report of all the goings on shortly.

But I caught this in the WaPo this morning and nearly fell out of my chair:

It's likely that the next president will face at least one Supreme Court vacancy. Obama should promise Hillary Clinton, now, that if he wins in November, the vacancy will be hers, making her first on a list of one.

Shriek.

A Personal Rant: On Hate

"But I will tell you that, without any question, the most bitter anti-white diatribes that I have ever heard have come from "passing" Negroes, living as whites, among whites, exposed every day to what white people say among themselves regarding Negroes -- things that a recognized Negro never would hear." -Malcolm X

Welcome to my world. My previous two posts are videos highlighting the sick, sad, and residual racism still embedded in this country. Many will dismiss them as non-representative of our country (or white people generally) and that people who think this way live on the margins of society.

Hardly.

Sentiments such as those exposed in the clips are indeed still very much a part of American culture. They are the sort of ideas which lead many blacks in America--not to endorse but-- to sympathize with Rev. Jeremiah Wright when he screams "God Damn America!" The people interviewed are exemplars of why, contrary to widely-held belief, racism continues to be a pervasive societal ill that should be addressed for what it is, instead of treating it as some sort of antiquated idea that has been relegated to the fringe of the collective American mind.

I know it exists, because I've heard it. From fellow classmates back in grade school, to employees and patrons at bars and restaurants I worked at or frequented as an adult--I've heard it all. From innocuous ignorant comments about athletic ability to jokes about hunting black people like animals--I've heard more racist tripe than I care to remember.

I am that "passing Negro."

And I have done my best not to become too bitter over the aggregated dehumanizing jokes, slurs, and insults that I have heard and witnessed over the course of my life. But when I see videos that show a man selling t-shirts with a picture of a monkey on it to represent United States Senator Barack Obama's run at the presidency--and that he sold out of them--I am filled with such contempt that it is all I can muster not to write an "anti-white diatribe."

But I will say this: I HATE.

I hate that man for what he did. I hate all the people who make excuses for him and his putrid ilk. I hate the fact that the free speech that I cherish and literally work to protect is used by backwater trash like him to degrade a black man--and by logical extension, all black people.

And I hate that most of the people who'll read this just won't "get it."

Some will undoubtedly say to me "If you let it get to you, he's won. Don't give him that pleasure." But life is not a game-- and there is no doubt that he and his despicable kind are losers. But more to the point, black people have been taking crap like this for years...and it wears on us.

It wears because, to most people, being seriously considered less-than-human is unimaginable to the point that such a suggestion is laughable--but it isn't for us. There is an entire lexicon of sub-human pejoratives for black people that simply don't exist for other people. (There are racist terms for everyone, sure, but the sheer number of debasing terms is unmatched among the other races in the American context.) Caricatures of asinine minstrels and violent, raping savages permeated the entertainment culture for years (e.g., the film "classic" Birth of a Nation, Hattie McDaniel's disturbing performance in Gone with the Wind, Al Jolson and Bugs Bunny in black face, the Mammy housekeeper on Tom & Jerry, etc.). Even now that our full humanity has been granted by law and in the minds of most Americans, we're still not quite as good as white, now are we?

No, we're physically gifted; we have an animalistic sexual prowess; we're less intelligent; we're violent and very possibly criminal. This was and is our stereotype-- and everybody knows this.

And I HATE that.

Makes Me Want to Wear A Sherman T-Shirt in GA

More racist BS from the campaign here.

Race and the Race

"Post-racial" my black...

I Missed This When I Saw Them in '96

Hat tip: Radley