THE YOUNG BOB WHITAKER'S REAL HATE | 2002-04-13
People still like to mention the fact that the worst part of Dante's Hell was not fire, but ice. What they have to skirt around today is exactly who was in that worst part of Hell.
Today, if you are an American who hates America, you are a Moral Idealist. Today, if you are a white who hates whites, you a Moral Idealist. Today, if you are a gentile who hates gentiles, you are a Moral Idealist. Today, if you are a Southerner who hates Southerners, you are a Moral Idealist.
So no one today likes to mention that Dante left the worst part of Hell for traitors. The most horrible part of Hell was reserved for the kind of people we now call Moral Idealists.
I have pointed out how "anti-racist" propaganda today regards non-whites as less than human. See February 9, 2002 - WHITE ANTIRACISM IS REALLY VERY RACIST. Colored inferiority is their real attitude and it underlies everyone's view of race, especially that of minority "leaders."
In the 1915 movie, "Birth of a Nation," the blacks who supported Reconstruction were said to be corrupted by Yankees. The white supremacists who wrote that movie in 1915 could not regard blacks as guilty of anything, any more than a squirrel could be. Exactly the same thing is true of today's anti-racists.
When today's liberal says, "It may seem cruel to us, but it is nature's way," you never know whether he is talking about what animals are doing or what aboriginal peoples are doing.
Like today's anti-racist, I have always tended to secretly believe that only whites are capable of real evil.
So I didn't hate blacks for being dumb blunt objects to be used by liberals. I detested anti-white whites, though. For my entire life, some form of self-hatred has been regarded as The Only True Morality among white gentiles, and especially American white gentiles.
If a movement with all the inducements of helping my family had recruited this depressed teenager in the 1950s, I would have gone after the people I, like Dante, hated most in the world, the traitors. Those Southerners like Ralph McGill or Tom Wicker would have been spread all over the sidewalk with me in a grotesque but ultimate form of integration.
So I am not writing this for the sake of the Palestinians. I am writing it to others from the 1950s who were young people going through that long night of knowing what was coming and watching the traitors thrive.
I write it for all of us who, despite all the attacks and the incentives to become traitors, remembered what the battle was all about.