Black Lives Don’t Matter

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Let’s be honest here, Black lives don’t matter they really don’t. They certainly don’t matter to other Blacks. Take a look at what Blacks call their culture. In many inner city areas going to jail is a right of passage and a Black male isn’t a man until he’s spent some time in an orange jump suit. Black music is often about killing people, abusing women, committing crimes, doing drugs etc. And many Black men try to get as many women as they can pregnant with no intention or hope of sticking around to raise and help pay the bills for the children they produce. Over 15 million Black babies have been aborted since Roe vs. Wade. Over the past 35 years in America, an estimated 324,000 Blacks have been killed at the hands of fellow Blacks. Between 1976 and 2005 blacks com­mitted more than half of all murders in the United States yet represent only about 12% of the population. Today we even have major celebrities promoting groups like BLM and The New Black Panthers which only encourage other Blacks to commit crimes which in some cases they have. Blacks simply don’t want to get along with each other or anyone else.

I grew up in the 1960’s and saw for myself the civil rights movement unfolding and the struggle for equality in America. In my neighborhood there were no Blacks in fact in the entire county in which I lived there was only one Black family. In the early 1970’s our family used to take Black children into our home during the summer through something called “The Fresh Air Program” which gave inner city Black kids a chance to see what life could be like outside of the ghettos they lived in. They were complete strangers from Harlem which at the time was one of the most dangerous places in the country rampant with gangs, drug dealing, prostitution, murder and just about every other crime you can possibly imagine. But we wanted to help and were willing to risk the safety and well being of our family to do so as did other families in our neck of the woods.

I never ran into any real in your face racism until in 1976 I moved to South Florida. It was a culture shock I hadn’t expected. A couple of times we had SWAT teams at our high school in Pompano Beach to prevent all out brawls of Whites vs. Blacks in the students parking lot often between rival schools.

Between what I saw on my TV set in the 60’s and what I saw for myself in Florida in the 70’s I have always bent over backwards to be nice to Black folks, befriend them and when I was in a position of authority in the work place to hire Blacks whenever possible which frankly was no easy task as so many seemed to lack basic skills much less job specific skills. Still I believed and continued to try to help Blacks whenever the opportunity presented itself right up until a few years ago.

I think my opinion about Blacks changed because of the Treyvon Martin case here in Florida. It suddenly hit me how much Blacks hated Whites. The facts of the case didn’t matter at all. It didn’t matter that this marshal arts fan was a thug who beat people, robbed homes, or was on drugs and Leen. The only thing that matter was that some Hispanic guy who could pass as White killed the young man who was threatening his life.

I started looking at the Black community, culture and violent crime rate a lot closer than I had in the past and since that journey began have completely stopped giving a crap what happens to Blacks one way or another. Oh don’t make the mistake of thinking I hate them in many ways I actually feel sorry for them but where they are today in 2016 is mostly their own doing. They continue to vote for hand outs instead of jobs and they continue to murder each other at alarming rates and commit crimes against Whites simply because of their victims skin color. So why should I give a dam about a people who don’t even care about themselves? Why should I care about people who seem oddly prone to violence at the drop of a hat …… any hat. Why should I give a crap about people who view me as the enemy and/or devil reincarnate? Well I just don’t anymore they can gun each other down in the streets all day long for all I care.

In conclusion: Blacks don’t give a crap about their own lives …. and neither do I.

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