Sunday Afternoon Musings from Multiracial Restaurant Setting

Last Sunday, I took my mother out to eat at one of her favorite restaurants. It was a regional chain that kind of bordered in atmosphere between typical fast food and a more traditional restaurant. We live in a very multiracial area, so the restaurant had plenty of the big three (whites, blacks, Hispanics). It was after church so the church crowd was there. Also, the restaurant probably attracts a little bit older diner than most fast food chains, so there weren’t many young people there.

I noticed that between the diners and the workers visible from the dining area that there appeared to be one white woman in the whole place between the ages of fourteen and forty. Everything was quiet and calm, so I just kept looking around and thinking to myself. A negress brought us our food and a very squatty, wide nosed Hispanic woman brought us our drinks. Just glancing around, it was hard not to intuitively notice the racial inequality. The one under forty white woman was average looking at best, but she was by far the best looking woman in the place just due to the racial gap. And I’m not just referring to sex appeal, which she really didn’t have that much of; I’m talking about generally attractive as in someone you would want to talk to or sit beside on a bus.

As the Hispanic woman came by with refills, I couldn’t help but notice how natural it is that she would be waiting on us whites, both with respect to her race and to her sex. I looked around the area and saw some obviously mixed “blacks” sitting in a separate area. The whole crowd of them was whiter than Obama. I noticed the older white women that wore about a pound of makeup each, and older white men with them. Despite the makeup and old lady bling, these white couples just had an air of class about them that other races will never match.

I saw a Hispanic man in line with his family. He actually seemed attractive and intelligent (probably due to the obvious European admixture) but his children (I presume they were his) sure did regress to the racial mean. The racial inferiority between those kids and comparable aged typical white kids couldn’t be more obvious.

I spent a quiet afternoon after coming home and couldn’t help but rethink how intuitive the racial inequalities are, how obvious that the other races’ rightful place is below us in the racial hierarchy. Were it not for miscegenation and certain individuals that want to stir up class warfare, I would have no problem with letting other races wait our tables, sweep our floors, and pick our crops. I can see how in the Old South the mulattoes were preferred as house slaves while the full bloods were preferred as field slaves. If we instantly had such hierarchy again today, I would expect the mestizo Hispanics to join mulattoes as house slaves, restaurant slaves, and grocery store slaves while the full blood indios would join the full blood negroes in the fields and in sawmills (maybe not working side by side, but occupying the same roles in society).

The other races must know it too. I’m convinced they perceive our superiority. They have to know. We all know it. We know it as instinctively as we know hunger, thirst, or sexual urges.

I thought about all the mountains of data we have to back up our arguments, and how it somehow seems to mostly fall on deaf ears. Does anybody need data to acknowledge what is so easily and casually perceived? It is so obvious to any reasonable person who will admit it. Are we wasting our time and energy when we pull out the IQ charts, SAT scores, and crime stats? The natural hierarchy is so obvious children can see it. What use are facts and figures when everybody already knows the truth?

Maybe it was the Sunday afternoon mood that made a possible racial harmony seem possible. But racial equality isn’t even pretendable on a Sunday afternoon. If we are able to win this war raging against us, I’m convinced it will depend largely upon our ability to win peoples’ instincts, to convince them that we are the strong horse, that we have the strongest leaders, and that their best bet is to join our army. Stephan Molyneux has recently posed the question “Maybe the time for arguments is past?” I think he may well be right. I think maybe we can put away the IQ charts, and all the other data. Maybe we should build a good looking bandwagon for our coethnics to jump on. Maybe we just need a strong and charismatic leader who can captivate an audience, who projects strength onto a weaker adversary, whom the women have secret crushes on, and whom the young men look up to as a strong leader.

It’s not about facts and figures. It never was and never will be. It’s about strength, power, and the ability to show it off just right. It’s about finding someone who looks good on camera, who has the right voice, who speaks with the right cadence and swagger, who shuts down hecklers like Trump. It’s about having smart dressed men turn out in large numbers for a march or parade. It’s about memes. Facts and figures are for leaders and other independent thinkers. Memes are for sheeple, and we have a lot of sheeple to embolden, to convince that the time is nigh to rise up.



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