Everything I will EVER have to say about the George Floyd thing

Let’s get this over with, shall we? I frankly have four million better things to do with my time and energy than spend them on a story that is filled to overflowing with so many of my least favorite things in modern political reality: social justice warriors, Donald Trump, race politics, international progressive activism, white guilt…you get the picture.

But a dying nation’s latest crisis-of-the-week has displaced coronavirus, apparently as the media’s most convenient segue with which to back out of last week’s propaganda without anyone asking too loudly, “Um, what happened to ‘We’re all gonna die’?” So I will take this opportunity to throw my two cents into this nonsense, and then I’m done. You won’t hear from me about this story again, unless something truly world-historical results from it.

The Eyes Have It.— A reader and frequent correspondent sent an e-mail today questioning the premise of America’s newest mass hysteria, namely that Derek Chauvin, the Minneapolis police officer who killed a black man, thereby setting off a prairie fire, killed George Floyd because he is a “racist cop.” Specifically, my friend commented that the infamous photo showing Chauvin in the act of killing does not show a man hatefully committing a racially motivated outrage, but rather a bad cop distracted by onlookers, perhaps barely paying attention to what he is doing.

As it happens, I have seen the ugly photo, though not any video footage, because the photo appears in places where I happen to be passing through, whereas I would not indulge in the sadistic thrill of willingly watching a man choke to death under another man’s knee for any reason — not even for the self-righteous titillation of claiming I have “a right to know.”

As for what the picture told me, I would say that when I saw it, I immediately thought two things. First, he seems almost oblivious to what he is doing, like a guy tying his shoes while chatting with co-workers. Second, if you look at his eyes, you will see “MORON” engraved deep in whatever there is of a mind there. As it happens, I have a fairly keen instinct for reading people’s eyes in search of understanding and intelligence. It’s indispensable to genuine teaching — I mean teaching in the proper sense, not the “job,” but the real thing, i.e., actually communicating with individuals. I know a still photo can mislead in many ways, but for what it’s worth, I see a truly dumb man in that picture.

Having said that, he was with other officers, conversing with them during this entire episode. What were they seeing and thinking? Are they as dumb as he is, or were they half-enjoying the fun of watching a man die for no reason?

In either case, there is nothing worth defending here, although of course that doesn’t mean the official “social justice” reading of the event has any merit either. A man — apparently not a completely innocent man, but that is neither here nor there to me — was killed, probably somewhat unintentionally, by a profoundly neglectful, likely sub-rational, and obviously inhumane thug who was knowingly permitted, for many years, to wear a badge, carry a weapon, and wield lethal force on behalf of the government (of his solidly Democratic state).

Last month, it was legally-enforced “social distancing” and police state “lockdowns.” This month, it’s curfews, tear gas, and rubber bullets. America is having a conspicuously unamerican spell lately, wouldn’t you say? Thank you once again to Donald J. Trump, the man who never met a problem he couldn’t exacerbate with his big mouth and his puny hands.

As one living in exile from Communist Canada, I was naturally waiting with bated breath to hear what Justin the Wonder Fop would have to say about all this. After all, I haven’t been called a racist in months! 

Sure enough, Prime Minister Black Face, aka Son of Pierre the Nazi Biker Boy, felt it would be helpful to deliver his usual “We white people all have some soul-searching self-hatred to do” mantra. Speak for yourself, hypocrite.

That’s it. I’ve got nothing left. A local story about a stupid cop abusing his authority with sad and deadly results has, once again, been turned into an international Hate America Festival thanks to a subversive international-communist-sympathizing mainstream media. The thing is, over the past several years, I’ve gradually started to warm to these Hate America Festivals. Truth be told, at this point there is plenty to hate, if one is so inclined.

But as our parents used to say, “You’re too young to hate.” They were right, except that in fact we’re all too young to hate, or perhaps too old to be so petty. 

I’ll be perfectly honest with you now, since this news story is officially blocked from Limbo from this moment on. When I saw that picture of a thuggish idiot kneeling, half oblivious, on the neck of another man until that man was dead, I thought this picture is not about race. It is not about bad cops. It is a metaphor for the cumulative reality of contemporary America, the great republic in death throes of its own making, a man crushing the life out of his fellow citizen, seemingly without even knowing or caring.

I do not enjoy saying, or even thinking, such a thing, partly because most of my readers, and some of my true friends, are American, and what is happening to their once-magnificent and truly world-historical country is far more painful for them than it could ever be for me — far more suffocating if I may say so. I never want to cause my friends pain, so speaking in this way is loathsome to me. But there it is, the unvarnished evidence of my soul. I’m sincerely sorry to all of you, Americans or otherwise.

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