Shocking tactics
Taki
New York
Race is to American politics what nudity is to the porn industry. It is relentless, ubiquitous, and not a day goes by without some so-called preacher, politician or journalist being offended and calling for the PC police. In the meantime, humourlessness is threatening to become America’s natural religion. The forces of organised touchiness never rest.
Throughout the past fortnight Americans have been riveted to their television sets watching the Don Imus saga unfold. For any of you unfamiliar with Imus, he is what is known over here as a shock jock, a morning radio-show host with the highest ratings in the land. Imus is rude about everyone and everything. I do not listen to his programme but, in view of the mess our culture is in, I agree with everything he says and sympathise with his anger. Imus insults everyone, especially the fame-based hierarchy of today’s celebrity culture. He is very good at deflating the puffed-up egos of Hollywood types, Washington Uriah Heeps and boorish sports stars. When he recently described the mostly black women’s basketball team of Rutgers University as ‘nappy-headed hos’, Al Sharpton, the greatest race hustler since Jesse Jackson, went ballistic and demanded his dismissal. That is when Imus made his great mistake. He went on Sharpton’s radio programme, apologised, asked the Rutgers women to forgive him, and then got fired by CBS as well as NBC.
Lesson to be learned: never apologise. Imus should have reminded Sharpton of his own past — he never apologised for ruining a man’s life on a rape charge which turned out to be as false as George Washington’s teeth — and asked him to kiss his a–—. Instead, he grovelled, and lost both his dignity and his job. The irony is that the very words Imus used when taking the mickey are in everyday use by black rappers. A ‘ho’ is now part of the language as much as bitch is, and the latter was being used by Muhammad Ali back in the Sixties when referring to women. Black hip-hoppers can use the n-word non-stop and be called artists. Such ‘artistic’ licence is not for the rest of us. When a white man slips, it’s Bonfire of the Vanities time.
Mind you, Imus being fired is hardly a tragedy. He is very rich and will simply go on to another venue. It only illustrates that there’s something very wrong in America when a black hustler can get a rude white man fired from his job for saying what the black hustler hears daily on his radio show from his own people. The Duke University fiasco is far worse. I wrote about it a year ago. Three young white men with impeccable credentials were accused of raping a black woman stripper after a lacrosse endof-season party. It made national headlines, and every race hustler jumped in with a vengeance, starting with Jackson and Sharpton. A presumption of innocence was denied the accused by — get a hold of this — the president of Duke University, more than 10 per cent of the Duke faculty, the New York Times and Newsweek, and countless other liberal motormouths of the airwaves. The team coach was fired and lacrosse suspended as a Duke sport.
And all this took place after DNA tests proved that the accused were innocent, and a fellow stripper present at the site of the alleged crime admitted that her friend had made the story up after two nights of non-stop drinking. The district attorney, however, refused to throw in the towel as he was facing an election. So he chose to ruin three young men’s lives and got elected for his troubles. After it became obvious that the story was totally made up, he still refused to hand over the DNA tests and continued to showboat in front of the cameras. The New York Times gleefully and disgustingly conspired in the hoax because — I presume — it served its purpose, that of undermining white American traditional society.
Well, not for the first time, justice prevailed. The North Carolina attorney-general threw out the case, putting an end to one of the worst cases ever of legal railroading. He exonerated the three and apologised for a rogue DA, who in my opinion should be prosecuted and jailed.
As they say, all’s well that ends well, and I hope by the time you read this your High Life correspondent will still be around. I say this because I’m off to Miami for the American National Judo Championships, and the World Masters’ Championships. I am entered in the 70–74 age-group competition, and — believe it or not — I am told I have a good chance. Hope springs eternal.
Previous page
