A Grand Purée of Sorrow

I think I discovered something while watching this video below. It is a video montage of three professors at Southern talking about whiteness, white supremacy, critical race theory, and all that jazz. I’ll give you a chance to watch it too, and then we’ll check in afterwards to see if you noticed the same thing I did.

Okay, people, let’s compare notes.

What I noticed is that when someone is talking nonsense, the color of the face right behind that nonsense does not matter, not even a little bit. When the white man is talking piffle, the piffleness of the whole thing simply takes over. It overwhelms our awareness of his skin color, and it even overshadows his previous blindness to his quiet albeit ubiquitous racism. In other words, his present woke blindness is making it hard for us to even notice that past not-woke blindness he is going on so earnestly about.

And when the black guys are talking piffle, such is the progress of race relations in modern America, I didn’t feel like I had to pretend not to notice. There was a real sense of liberation in that. I mean, just because the piffle is strongly associated with an authentic black experience changes not a thing. It just makes it piffle coming through an authentic black experience. Piffle is a hardy plant, and can survive the most challenging environments. It can grow anywhere. I mean, it can grow in the high mountain meadows of white privilege, right next to the lake cabin, as well as grow up through the cracked asphalt on that ancient basketball court in the hood.

The only thing that can kill piffle is that good old-timey gospel Round-Up, and the piffle farmers don’t need to worry about that any more. It has been outlawed in most states already, especially the Calvinist concentrates, and I even hear that Walmart is bowing to the pressure to discontinue selling it.

Now some might wonder at my use of such an illustration. Why would I have Walmart selling gospel Round-Up when the church was commanded to give it away for free?The questioner has failed to recognize that being commanded to do something and actually doing it are two different things.

Now someone might say, and I dare say, will say, that these are all strong words. I mean, piffle is a strong word, if you sit down and think about it long enough. Whence these charges? Whither now? What giveth? Wut?

I will be coy no longer. Here is the screaming problem with this kind of foolishness. I want to know who died and left these guys in charge of representing all the black people. And I want to know why they get to lecture all the white people in order to let us know that what black people really need is for us to start buying into their leftist claptrap.

But here is the good news about our genuine progress in racial reconciliation. The fact that a white guy was urging the same levels of Gramscian hooey bothered me every bit as much. When he said something silly, not once did I think to myself, “Well, at least he is white. He has that going for him at least.” I mean, not at all. He was as far off as they were. For all intents and purposes, their nostrums were all the same color, which, as it turns out, was a pasty gray.

There has not ever been a downtrodden people group anywhere (e.g. like blacks in America) that has not had the seductive blandishments of leftism dangled in front of them. And when they buy into it, there is not one of those groups who have not had their miseries thrown into a force multiplier blender, and made into a grand purée of sorrow. We are watching the chefs in the kitchen now.

Meantime, all the white poobahs of our Reformed stratosphere, who would a thousand times over prefer being racist to being called a racist, stand by and let this roaring avalanche of nonsense tear down toward the villages below. If they raise the alarm, some might think it off-putting.