Our old pal John “Salad Days” Derbyshire no longer has a job at National Review after writing one measly most racist column in Internet history, on a paleoconservative fringe site. (Your author wrote a whole bunch of words about this for the Salon website instead of on Your Wonkette, because he is a traitor.) Indeed, the PC nanny-state Left has scored another great man’s scalp. Good work, idiots. If we don’t have a Derbyshire-esque sage out there to persistently remind white people, “Stay out of heavily black neighborhoods,” then all we’ll get is more stolen Daily Caller bikes.
Some aggrieved fellow at the Caller — to narrow it down — has written a piece about “the end of my white guilt.” He tells of howsomeone in a predominantly black neighborhood stole his bicycle this weekend, a sad turn of events to which he reacted in proportion by completely changing his views of racial relations in the country. Do note that unless we missed something, he still has no confirmation that it was in fact a black person who stole his bike. But, you know, who else could’ve done it?
But when I came back to my car after the stations, my bike, which had been locked to a bike rack on my car, was gone. I called the cops and filed a report. Then I walked around Brookland, the neighborhood around the Shrine, for an hour to see if I could spot it. I didn’t, but I did talk to some people who said there were a lot of kids around that day because the schools are out.
I went to college at Catholic University, which is right next to the National Shrine, and I know Brookland pretty well. It’s home to several Catholic religious orders (Brookland was once known as “Little Rome”). I could be pretty certain that on Good Friday a member of the Little Sisters of the Poor, which is across the street from where I was parked, had not nicked my bike. Neither had the monks at the Dominican House of Studies on the corner. The students at Catholic University were on Easter break. That left the neighborhoods around the university. Since the time I was an undergrad at Catholic University in the 1980s, most of the crime that has occurred on campus has come from those neighborhoods, which are predominately black. As sure as it took the D.C. cops forever to get to the parking lot to file a report, I knew that the odds were very high that a black person had taken my bike — maybe one of the kids that had been described.
When I got home I vented to my friends. I told them I was going to scour those neighborhoods until I found the bike. In reply, a liberal friend gave me a lecture about profiling and told me to just forget about the bike. “That person needs our prayers and help,” she said. “They haven’t had the advantages we have.”
Well sure, your lecturing liberal friend is an exceptional pussy, much more so than the average liberal pussy. But there’s a middle-ground between changing your view of an entire race and praying for the person who stole your bike: getting mad at the one person who stole your bike whatever his or her race may be. Or don’t and keep over-thinking shit, who cares.