The Evidence Is Plentiful And Explicit

     I never would have expected to say this here – or anywhere – but the hour has come for segregation of the black race away from whites.

     Have just one item of evidence:

“You don’t deserve black culture…” pic.twitter.com/QHIeER5Nj7

— Dark Side (@not_rekt_11) September 17, 2025

     Oh all right, have another:

Is this “we’re all the same” thing in the room with us now? pic.twitter.com/3RVtJrY4KB

— Dark Side (@not_rekt_11) September 17, 2025

     There are hundreds, perhaps thousands of such videos. There are videos of blacks trashing supermarkets, outdoor grocers’ stalls, fast-food places, convenience stores, and hairdressers’ salons. There are many videos of blacks attacking a lone white man or woman, sometimes in packs. There are videos of blacks deliberately vandalizing cars. There are many videos of gangs of black women brawling in public. There are videos of blacks challenging white cops to a fistfight, usually getting shot or Tased for it. There are videos of blacks disrupting restaurants, of blacks acting up on mass transit, and of blacks deliberately halting traffic on a busy street. You can find as many of these as you can stomach on X/Twitter.

     There are plenty of videos of black smash-and-grab robberies and strong-arm robberies, if you prefer.

     Many will say “But in a nation of 330 million, surely these are just scattered incidents.” They are not. They’re commonplace and growing more so as you read this. Iryna Zarutska wasn’t a tragic outlier; she was representative of today’s norm.

     Around blacks, whites and our property are not safe.

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     The “root cause” of racial “disharmony” will remain a matter for dispute. Some will insist it’s cultural. I continue to believe it’s at least partly genetic. But does it really matter? Must civil society continue to suffer while we struggle toward a consensus about it?

     When I wrote this piece, I still had hope. I didn’t think that outcome, or anything like it, was inevitable. After all, I told myself, there are still many intelligent, well-socialized blacks. Perhaps they’ll finally realize that they must take their unruly fellows in hand, discipline them, and bring an end to their disruptions of our society.

     Then I started to think seriously. I asked myself the key questions: Who is teaching the unruly ones to hate whites? Who is encouraging them to victimize us? Who is shielding them from the consequences of their actions?

     It was a long and painful pondering. I sought answers other than the obvious one. I couldn’t find any that were consistent with the available evidence. Then I wrote this piece. No, it doesn't explicitly mention race. Does it need to?

     We cannot have them among us.

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     I’m old. The old are often cynical. I’ve tried to resist that temptation. But cynicism often comes of a particular phenomenon: a pattern of pieties repeated to rationalize the avoidance of an unpleasant or uncomfortable conclusion. The pious ones keep saying “We can’t go that way” to that conclusion even as their preferred explanations fail and the “solutions” they proffer crash and burn beyond recognition.

     It’s when the pieties are inflicted upon oneself that they become truly intolerable. I’ve had that experience.

     I once had a couple of liberal friends. Liberal in the Sixties sense: tolerant, generous, well-meaning – liberals are always well-meaning; ask them and they’ll tell you so – and certain that America could “solve” its race problem. They ascribed that problem to racism: that is, to white racism toward blacks. It was liberal doctrine; anyone who refused it was “read out of the church.”

     I was politically unaligned back then. I’d begun to question that doctrine. At that time I worked near the border between Nassau County and Queens. I’d been mugged several times, always by blacks. Even then, I was willing to notice a pattern, though I still held back from what it implied.

     So I asked one of them, a woman not much older than myself, what she thought about racial matters. She responded with liberal doctrine: we must understand blacks’ grievances, we must be tolerant and forgiving, we must compensate for the legacy of slavery, we must give them a “hand up” to balance the scales, and so forth. We must, we must, we must.

     Must we? I asked myself silently. My interlocutor lived in a lily-white district and worked as a high-ranking bureaucrat at a prestigious university. She might never have brushed against racial hatred personally. I forbore to ask her about that, of course; it would have been “insulting.” So I asked her something else.

     “Suppose my neighborhood,” I said, “were about to find itself home to a couple of black families? Knowing what usually results from that, what would you say I should do?”

     She reacted indignantly. Indignation is common among liberals when they’re challenged on one of their dogmas, even indirectly. She insisted stridently that I would have a moral obligation to remain where I am, not to sell my home and move.

     Why would I be under such an obligation? She never got there. But she was adamant. That obligation, she insisted, was absolute. It superseded my responsibility for my own well-being.

     You might try my query on a liberal of your acquaintance. I can’t recommend it, mind you; the consequences occasionally go beyond simple disagreement. But give it some thought when you’re not otherwise engaged.

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     I know some highly intelligent persons. More than one of them has echoed that old Sixties-liberal racial doctrine at me. As I once did, they resist the conclusion that the black race cannot mingle peacefully with America’s other races. They want to keep trying. They maintain, sometimes explicitly, that racial separation is simply unacceptable. They insist that there “must be another way” – and that whites are morally obligated to keep trying until we find it.

     I no longer feel any such obligation. The obligation I feel is to defend myself, my loved ones, my neighbors, and American civil society. That’s where I have planted my flag.

     Your conclusions are your own.