“Mildly” Ridiculous

Rather than launching into what could be a lengthy and overly-detailed rant, let me be up front and frank by simply stating this: there is no such thing as being “mildly” racist. If you make racist statements and feel that kind of prejudice in your heart, you are — plain and simple — a member of the bigot club.

I don’t care if you’re “just venting” about your Hispanic neighbor, or raging after a Caucasian cuts you off in traffic. Whether you make a snide comment under your breath about African Americans, or an inaccurate generalization of Asians, you are, in the end, no different than a skinhead, Klansman or Nazi. There is no ‘racism rank,’ no ‘degree of hatred.’

“Well, I wouldn’t say I hate people. I just don’t want those goddam [racial slur] around me. You never know what they could do. It’s best to stay away from them.”

This is an absurd statement but is, sadly, a sentiment you may often hear.

To that end, excuses for the elderly racists amongst us need to stop. Suggesting grandma’s hate-speech should be ignored because “she’s old” is simply unacceptable. We will all be old one day. Should we be granted full access to spew ignorant ramblings just because we’ve passed some predetermined age? And, if so, what is that age? 65? 80? 22? No, this mindset will only lead us to an ever-increasing society of racists, fueled by our ‘excuse’ of advanced age.

An acquaintance once confided in me that he hated a certain race. He felt as though the country was in the midst of a “race war,” and suggested he would do “whatever necessary” to “protect” himself. Of course, the relationship ended at that point, but a part of me will always respect his candor.

I certainly don’t mean I support his position, or advocate his views. But at least he was up front and honest about it. He was a racist. He hated other people based solely on the color of their skin. He made no apologies. In many ways, knowing this was somehow better than having to endure the prejudiced comments and insinuations from others less bold than he was.

I would rather be outright robbed by some punk on the street than have thousands stolen over the years — one dollar at a time — by a dear a friend who thought they were being “harmless.”

by Peter P. Gaseoustania | Gaseoustania Tonight


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