I’m Not a Cracker

You really let your seething inner cracker come out in this one.

Not really. Ghetto Blacks act awful. That’s beyond debate.

But do I hate them?

I’m not even sure if I hate them, really. I mostly just don’t want to think about them and I avoid them like the plague. I think if I start thinking about them, I start disliking or hating them, and I don’t like to feel that way about whole groups of people, so I don’t think about them to keep away from that hate. I hate way too many people as it is, and any chance I can hate fewer instead of more people, and I jump at it.

I’m not sure how I feel towards them.

Maybe frustrated and exasperated. I think I wish they’d knock it off and start acting like humans, but that’s probably not possible.

There also seems to be some evidence that ghetto Blacks, if they survive, may age out of ghetto behaviors.

I knew a Black man, pretty ghetto, in his 50’s, who lived above me. I never knew him when he lived there, but I met him later, and he was all right. He’d probably been bad when he was young, but once they get to 50 or so, they usually age out of that and become rather pleasant. You can probably associate with them without being victimized. Sometimes they seem a bit down, bitter, and cynical, but I don’t care about that as long as they’re not preying on me.

And they’re quite wise, too. Sometimes I think there’s no one wiser than a Black older man with that twinkling forehead, “seen it all, figured it all out” gleam in his eye, and slight wry smile. They’re survivors.

I’ve met some middle-aged Black women who still seem pretty ghetto. They don’t age as well as the men. One threatened to call the police on me for craning my neck to look at her in her car. I guess this meant I was going to rape her. She seemed pretty angry and nasty, but she was still hot. They seem bitter too, like the men. Another one did the same for trying to talk to her. She was still caught up in the ghetto lifestyle.

But I’m committing to helping Blacks. And despite the awful behavior of the race, I still don’t hate the whole race. Why? Because I know so many Black people who aren’t ghetto and aren’t IP human mosquitoes. I don’t even hate Black IP types as long as we can keep away for the things that set off their verbal tertiary syphilis. I know a few and I can talk ok to them on all sorts of things as long as we keep away from Black stuff.

Black IP types are infuriating but so are all IP morons.

Point out the obvious about insane levels of Black criminality, murderousness, predatory behavior, and general dysfunction? Racist.

Point out that Blacks slaughter each other by the scores in our cities every weekend, and, like, maybe this is, like, a little bit of a problem? Racist.

Try to help Blacks? Racist. How dare you try to help us! Take your help and shove it up your ass!

Blacks rack up Vietnam War tallies of dead and wounded in our cities every weekend? Racist. Hey, Whites commit murder too, so let’s not talking about Blacks massacring each other, and they aren’t doing it anyway, and besides, you’re racist for pointing it out!

Try to help their own kind? Of course not. First they deny that there’s a problem in the first place and then they say if there is, it’s all White people’s fault.

I taught Blacks for years in the schools. I will never teach Black kids again. Someone else can go be a martyr and flagellate themselves.

But I still don’t hate Blacks because of those experiences. I used to start hating them when I was teaching them because they were so horrible, but then I would meet a Black lady teacher and all of that would vanish. And I liked all the decent students. It was just a raw temporary emotion that never got converted into an actual prejudice. I realize the unreason of racial prejudice against an entire group, and I try very hard not to fall into it.

The Black teachers and administrators and even a number of the kids were pretty damn cool. I’m not going to hate a whole race because their kids are infernal chaos agents. Blacks grow out of that anyway. You teach a class of Black adults, and you won’t have to deal with any of this crap.

I’m not a cracker. I don’t hate Black people at all.

Any Black person who isn’t ghetto or Black IP can be my friend anytime they want.

I still date Black chicks sometime. But if I find out she’s even remotely ghetto, I get out, sadly sometimes after I’ve already dated her.

If I find out she’s Black IP, I’m not getting involved. They’re just too annoying.

And way too many Black women have a “prostitute” attitude towards sex where they pretty much want to charge you every time you do it. This includes the educated, intelligent, middle class ones. I met a beautiful Black woman with a good job on a dating site recently. She was Black IP and I didn’t like that. She also wanted to be taken out to a very expensive restaurant. This was the only way you could date her. At 60 years old, her pussy was still platinum-plated and for sale at a fancy price. I don’t think they ever grow out of this.

I still think about those Black women I worked with and that Black girl in my class who was in love with me. I especially think about the Black girl. If she was really in love with me, we could have had fun. Plus she was in honors and AP classes, so she probably acted pretty good. There was an Hispanic girl who was in love with me too. She was the Homecoming Queen! I think about her a lot too but I chickened out with her too. Same robotic hypnotized stare.

There’s a special place in my heart for every woman who ever loved me. There’s something about that magnetic, slave-like devotion where they seem drawn and stuck to you like a force field that’s just magical. A woman in love is enslaved in a sense – to you, to me. But they love it like that. And so do I. I’m thinking that humans, especially women, like to be “pleasantly enslaved” to another person, usually man. They call this love and they live for it.

I often fantasize about getting together with them. No cracker would do that.