I blame my local library’s American History section for instilling in me a fear of Cacasian women. Go ahead, pick up Robert A. Gibson’s “The Negro Holocaust: Lynching and Race Riots in the United States,1880–1950”. After reading how the rhetoric surrounding lynchings frequently suggested they were to protect the virtue and safety of white women, you’ll cower in fear ! Subsequently, only the brave should dare google Lisa Lindquist Dorr’s White Women, Rape, and the Power of Race in Virginia, 1900-1960.
It doesn’t stop there….
Look at these contemporary cases. First up there is the case of Amanda Knoxx. She lied, saying that the Congolese owner of a bar where she used to work murdered her roommate. Next, who can forget the perfidious Charles Stuart blaming a black man for killing his pregnant wife when in fact he did. And is there a more egregious case of Blame the Black man syndrome than Susan Smith, who alleged to being carjacked in South Carolina by a Black man who drove away with her two young sons — ages 3 and 14 months — still in the car. She later confessed to letting her 1990 Mazda Protegé roll into a nearby lake, and drowning her children inside.
You may not remember, but during the George Zimmerman hoopla, the Nation published a popular article that illustrated how to the country at large white womanhood is worth protecting even at the expense of the well-being of innocent minorities. Unless that is we are talking about the serial killer movie genre. Did you know that it’s the sanctity of a white woman soul, that fuels the unrelenting serial killer’s journey to new depths of depravity? They are the cinema’s answer to the dubious lack of unicorns populating reality.
Fearful Not Scared Of
Being scared and fearful are two different things. Like many I too am scared of heights. However, I am fearful of white women given what might be done to me for their sake. The difference should be apparent. But in case it isn’t here’s a scenario for you to illustrate what I mean. (based on real events)
A 20-year-old woman told police that a masked black man raped her in a Brooklyn park just hours ago. The police launch a search for a nefarious looking Negro lurking around said Brooklyn park. I, a local Negro of the innocent variety, decide that I need a walk having spent too much time in front of my screen writing. Crossing paths with the
lynching partypatrolling cops, I find myself the recipient of a severe life threatening beating. She later recants her story and now, with nothing else to do during the hours of the day when my colostomy bag is empty, I become a disgruntled blogger devoid of any hope for justice.
Yes, it is true, there are legitimate reasons for black men to fear white women. Still I want to extend an olive branch to Caucasian women all over America. We should be able to be great friends, in theory. Please keep in mind that I’ve gone through all necessary precautions. I made sure to video tape myself cleaning my fingerprints off said olive branch, delivering it to the post office and sending it certified. You can never be too safe, especially in the off case that there are crimes or murders in your local area still as of yet unsolved.
Let move forward into the future as friends: your first Venti half white mocha, half cafe vanilla, ez ice, with 2 shots pour appigato style with whipped cream and caramel drizzle frappachino is on me!