This wonderful country, the U.S. Of A., has a pervasive sickness eating away at the values Americans hold true. Maybe I didn’t become so aware of it when I was younger. Maybe I was blinded by my love for lacing up my boots, spiking my mohawk, and idolizing Edward Norton in American History X.
Racism is alive and thriving, America.
I remember stomping around, a drunken, angsty teen with a disdain for other races. Always talking about how I was ready to curb stomp any and everyone of color. And why not? I was young, angry, looking for someone to blame for the things in my life. It was almost too easy to hate others for the color of their skin than accept the fact that I wasn’t doing shit to change my circumstance.
It was the dirty towelhead at the gas station. The nigger in the park. The fucking jew at the bank. It wasn’t me. I was just a victim. A victim to those of color destroying my fuckin’ American Dream. In post 9-11 it is so easy to hate. Any brown-skinned, turban wearing middle eastern is a fucking terrorist.
“FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING SAND NIGGER”
I shouted, as I threw my empty forty at the gas station. Why? Well, he asked for my ID when I went to buy cigarettes.
I didn’t see anything wrong with my actions. It was who I was. I was taking a stand for the true Americans. The ones that didn’t like planes being flown into their buildings.
There was a time when I would have joined the comment sections on Facebook, where American “heroes” sit and post comments like “We should just bomb the hell out of the Middle East” “Kill em all!”.
How brave and noble. Oh look, you got 547 likes on your comment about killing a whole race of people. I wonder if Mohammed in Downtown Baghdad reads that site too and sees you and 547 other individuals think him and his people should be blown out of existence.
I ask you, what genocide in history do we celebrate?
When in history do we cheer on the person trying to eradicate a whole race of people?
Go ahead, I will wait.
Now imagine Mohammed in Downtown Baghdad. Reading comment after comment about the Arabs. The Muslims. The Goatfuckers.
I wonder if he has a pair of boots.
Watching American History X in my youth gave me a morbid and disturbing love for my country. It filled me with a need to reclaim my country from those of color. 9-11 made Muslims the obvious targets for my hatred and misguided blame.
The real threat to this country is teaching our sons and daughters to hate a whole race of people based on their creed and their skin color. Fuck, even their goddamn name.
Ever notice people that don’t agree with the president always throw out that he is a muslim (he isn’t) and his middle name. Usually in caps.
Barack HUSSEIN Obama! It is his fault. He is one of them.
I hate to break it to you, the real problem in this country isn’t the threat of impending terrorist acts. It is the fact that people use those acts as a jumping point to breed hatred. They use those points as propaganda to look at a race one way. Down the barrel of a gun.
As an angry disenfranchised youth American History X was my bible. My matching tattoos with the main character could probably give away the deep love I had for the movie.
The movie is notorious for one scene. Where Derek curb stomps a man. The scene is gruesome, you can hear the man’s teeth grate against the concrete.
In my youth I watched the movie but never truly watched it. I saw what I wanted to see. An excuse to hate people for no reason other than the pigment of their skin.
The movie still holds a special place on my mantle. We also have a VHS version, it recorded on DVR and a spare copy boxed up somewhere. In all my adoration of AMX I missed the point because I was too busy taking what I wanted from the message.
So I guess this is where I tell you what I learned - my conclusion, right? Well, my conclusion is: Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not worth it. Derek says it's always good to end a paper with a quote. He says someone else has already said it best. So if you can't top it, steal from them and go out strong. So I picked a guy I thought you'd like. 'We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.'
-Danny Vineyard, American History X