B. U. G. S.

The last time I was in New York City I had a couple of days to kill, so I decided to hang out in Harlem with no aim in particular. Just hang out and take a gander at what was real. I wandered around many of Harlem’s ordinary neighborhoods, places where white tourists would ordinarily fear to tread.

Of course, I was noticed. The kids, the teenage boys (all darkies of one brand or another), especially noticed me. I could see the “this dude must be a cop” look on their faces as they stared at me with a mix of defiance and fear. I made no attempt to be friendly as that would have been stupid.

But what I really noticed about them began to upset me. They were way too put together, too sober, too alert, too much in paying real attention mode, too carefully attired. They seemed “tailored” to me, and their style seemed even tasteful. This was way off my usual experience of teenagers. And I noticed this a lot throughout Harlem.

The Harlem cops even seemed “pulled together” in contrast to my usual experience of cops. They were buff. They wore the old style police revolvers, and their guns seemed well cared for. Their traditional leather holster upholstery was even nice and well cared for. They wore their guns comfortably. They were cool in their stance and sense of presence, way off my usual experience of cops.

I contrasted that with what I usually experience in my own predominately white community. The white teenagers in my community are far too often messes. I see them in their one-size-fits-all falling off the ass dirty jeans and sweats, with marijuana addled eyes. They tend to wander around in dazes and babble gibberish. I often feel like horse whipping them.

The cops in my community are fat pigs, carry standard issue “earth shoe” Glock autos, strapped and locked down in nylon belts that act as girdles for their fat jiggling bellies. They always look like they are pending a heart attack when they climb in and out of their police cars in pain.

The other day the Sheriff arrested a WN clown that lives just out of town from where I live, Confederate Flag flying proudly over his dump of a property. He was given a warning for failing to properly dispose of an animal carcass. This clown and filthy derelict had just let his horse die of neglect and then he didn’t even properly dispose of the carcass. There is no animal cruelty law in my county for livestock, so the clown got off on that count.

Do I want be associated with these kind of “allies”? No way!

In contrast, I could take the dark skinned teenagers I experienced in Harlem and do something with them. They DON’T SURVIVE in THEIR community if they are derelict and KNOW IT. It is obvious they hate dereliction. You can just see it in their mannerisms, dress, stance, and speech. They are totally drug free and sober. They are PAYING ATTENTION.

I know that I could take those Harlem teenagers and organize them into a potent force.

Not so with the derelict loses to humanity I tend to experience in my own community with “working class” brands (meaning no father at home) types of white teenagers.

See the problem we got? See the challenge we are facing?

It is not so easy just to say, “You are my ally if you are against what I am against”.

It is a much deeper issue than that and a troubling issue for white nationalism.