Occasionally I Google “wet goddess” just to see what people are saying about it. Part of this is for my own survival, as I want to know if anybody is thinking about stalking or harming me. Well, I got a earful at the blog diaryofanegress.
Acting as if zoophilia were unknown in her race (without citing any evidence, of course), the blogger, who calls herself “Truth,” uses my experience with the dolphin to denigrate my race and white people in general, and the 45 commenters jump right in. Here’s the conclusion of “Truth’s” post:
Illusion is all apart of the system of white supremacy. When we begin to see these “people” for who and what they are, right from their own lips, we begin to remove that shroud of omnipotence. Beastiality has been apart of European culture since the dawn of time. Syphilis is evidence of that. See who and what you’re dealing with beneath that leather bound briefcase and those 300 dollar wingtip shoes. Beneath that home with the white picket fence and that position that draws awe and undue respect.
See the enemy…and fear not for they are just an illusion.
The commenters accuse me of having “Neanderthal DNA,” which in fact I do. A recent genetic analysis, which my daughter paid for, shows that I have 3.2% Neanderthal DNA, slightly higher that the 2.7% that is the Caucasian average. I was a little surprised to find this out, considering that I am so NOT built like a Neanderthal. I could use a little more muscle mass, frankly.
But what really bothers me is that here is a person, probably, in her own way, a good person, who is angry about some things she has every right to be angry about: the continuing marginalization and widespread oppression of blacks in America, their generally lower place on the socio-economic ladder, and the veiled racism that is so prevalent in American society, both north and south. And she takes it out on me, uses me as a whipping boy for my race because of my supposedly “degenerate” behavior.
“300 dollar wingtip shoes”? “white picket fence”? Oh Truth, honey, you don’t know me very well, do you? But that doesn’t matter to your agenda of racial hate, does it?
When I was growing up, my parents were Kennedy-era liberals. They taught me that all people were equal, regardless of race. Not “equal in the eyes of God,” because they didn’t believe in God. Not “equal in the eyes of the law,” because let’s face it, the law most often favors the rich oppressors over the poor and downtrodden. Just equal, in absolute terms, and I still believe that. Nobody gets to pick the color of their skin (except maybe the late, poor, lamentable Michael Jackson).
I grew up in the Civil Rights era. I remember visiting the south and seeing the segregated drinking fountains and bathrooms in places like Virginia, the Carolinas and Georgia, and I vividly remember the feelings of evil that inspired in me, because the facilities for “Coloreds” were always unclean and in a state of disrepair compared to those for “Whites.” I remember the demonstrations on the TV news, the billy clubs and beatings, the fire hoses and police dogs unleashed on helpless, non-violent demonstrators by the white overlords of Dixie, and George Wallace, the epitome of institutionalized racism, handing out axe handles on the steps of the Georgia statehouse. Those were awful, villainous times, and we have come a long way since then. But make no mistake, we still have a long way to go, as the recent, ill-informed Supreme Court decision to end the Voting Rights Act demonstrates.
My parents brought black children from the New York City ghetto to spend the summer with us through the Herald-Tribune Fresh Air Fund. It may have been misguided token liberalism, but at least they tried to make somebody’s life demonstrably better.
So, in the end, it saddens me to see this rage, this racial hatred, focused on me, because my skin color doesn’t really matter. The fact that I was in love with the dolphin, and she with me (as demonstrated most clearly in her post-coital behavior) was the story I wanted to tell, but someone filled with anger has chosen to stereotype me, to hold me up as an example of the “degenerate” nature of the Caucasian race.
Do I hate Truth for doing this? No, on the contrary, I feel sorry for her. Whatever she has experienced because of her color, I hope she finds some peace and sanctuary for her tormented, racist soul.
If anyone is interested, “Cynical Afrikan” also lambastes me as degenerate white scum.