Once Upon a Dream

The Emperor’s New Dupes Are Knocking at the Gates

 

Multiculturalism. It’s the mantra of the liberal-minded and like some mind-numbing catechism they mumble it over and over as they silently count their friends of different ethnicities as one might count prayer beads. Like religion, multiculturalism can be a beautiful thing: it can also poison the mind. For instance, I recently heard someone say, “Oh! Isn’t it wonderful!? He’s black, gay, half Jewish, and handicapped!” Immediately, I pictured Tiberius standing proudly on the shores of Capri where he kept his collected freaks and I answered, “But what has he done to merit your attention? Anything?” Confused silence followed.

This isn’t a game and we are not here to collect rare action figures. I don’t care one damn bit what color or religion you are. I don’t care one damn bit about your sexuality. I don’t care if you’re in a wheelchair or a war chariot. What matter is this: What are you doing with your life? What sort of character do you have? And isn’t that the much lauded dream, to judge someone by the content of their character and not a list of superficial bullshit? If so, why am I the bad guy? Why is it racism or bigotry to question one’s character or deeds while not giving a god damn about what they look like or what names they give their gods?

There are certain facts that betray a man’s character. When waves of so-called refugees sweep into an area and the crime rate skyrockets, this is a statement about their character, not their skin color. It could be argued that their violence is a by-product of their religion, but only one who has studied the religion can argue that and most of those in the Multi-cult haven’t bothered. What do they do instead? They whine, “What about the good Muslim who lives in my neighborhood? Surely this proves not all of them are bad.” This needn’t be proved as it has never been legitimately questioned. Most are not bad, but then most are not much of anything. The majority is inconsequential, as within every segment of humanity. How many billions of people have lived while mere hundreds adorn the pages of even the most comprehensive world history text? Why? Because not all of them are bad, not all of them are even significant. Most don’t matter at all, and so it is and always has been.

But since it keeps coming up, what about those good Muslims? Why aren’t they helping refugees in their own countries? Why aren’t they speaking out against the abuses of Islam? Where are these moderate Muslims so praised by our liberals? Likely cowering behind their Qurans. They’re not allowed to speak out, you see, for fear of dishonor or even death. Still, not all of them are bad, and yet I wonder: How many millions of extremists do we need before we’ll be outraged, before we’ll speak out against their intolerance?

In the name of our tolerance, our fear of being labeled a bigot or a racist, we foolishly give our support to those who would destroy our right to offer that tolerance to anyone other than themselves.

They may thank us for the rights we’ve given them, then auction off our daughters, execute our gay neighbors, crucify the local Christians, and assert their right to multiculturalism, a right to which many will bow down. Of course, not all of them will participate. Some will hide in denial. Some will speak out and be persecuted in turn. Some will smile in silent collusion. Countless others will sign up for the latest holy war. But of course, not all of them are bad.

Please, go on, show me percentages. Let’s ask the latest victim of gang rape if enough Muslims were involved. Would a mere six or seven be enough if it was your daughter, or do you need all of them to rape her before the outrage sets in? Do you see how absurd this argument is? Stop making excuses. Stop collecting humans because you want one in every color on your friends list. Stop pandering for fear of being called racist. It is time to start judging people on the content of their character and countless hordes will NOT pass the test.  This is not racism.  This is reality.

 

Rachel Summers