Obama: America's 'Deeply Rooted' Racism Will Take Time To Tackle

[mudwhistle]

.

The Left doesn't want to hear any stories of people working hard and succeeding. They'd rather ignore the millions and millions and millions who have done it.

In this country and others.

They'd rather tell poor people that their situation is hopeless.

Good gawd. Nasty. What a horrible thing to do to people.

.

The problem on the right is that they won't face up to problems or take a good look at what's really going on. The reason why they're afraid to address problems, especially systemic ones, is because they see it as an indictment on the system. They'd rather turn a blind eye and have a parade and shoot off some fireworks and say America is great, and good, and all things lovely. Well, guess what, if you don't face up to the problems, then it IS an indictment on the system if and when the affluent can convince themselves that everything is just swell.

What is the problem and who is offering real solutions?

The problem is blacks are growing up and being taught to carry a grudge.

What is the solution?

Stop living in the past and move on. Stop blaming others for your problems the way white supremacy has throughout the last century or the way Muslims do with respect to Israel. Move the fuck on. Learn to forgive racist. Learn to forgive you hateful bigot. Learn to forgive you GD progressives. Learn to forgive.

Mkay?

LOL! You think they need to be TAUGHT to carry a grudge? That's hilarious.

But very true. They are taught to hate people of other races. Their media sources condone singling themselves out from others. They're taught that if you're successful you are obligated to share with the community (meaning other blacks) and look out for your black brothers and sisters even though they are constantly trying to prevent you from succeeding, constantly backbiting you. Always envious. At one time it was looking out for number one. Now it's about collectivism and segregation. Don't fit in with whites. That makes you a sellout, an uncle Tom.

Now they're being taught that white cops want to murder them and they know some idiot will take it to heart.

 

[mudwhistle]

Yeah people calling him a Muslim and a Kenyan are all Obama's fault. Shit I think many white people just want to live in ignorance that everything is okay and that they are good people so nothing is wrong.

So must we constantly dwell on bad things? Must we hire a psychologist to help us work out our inherent cynicism like liberals often do? Maybe instead we should just let the troubles of the world run off of our backs and not sweat it. Who needs a world full of basketcases?

Obama is a Muslim, but he's a piss-poor Muslim, what practicing Muslims call an apostate.

 

[RKMBrown]

Yeah people calling him a Muslim and a Kenyan are all Obama's fault. Shit I think many white people just want to live in ignorance that everything is okay and that they are good people so nothing is wrong.

So must we constantly dwell on bad things? Must we hire a psychologist to help us work out our inherent cynicism like liberals often do? Maybe instead we should just let the troubles of the world run off of our backs and not sweat it. Who needs a world full of basketcases?

Obama is a Muslim, but he's a piss-poor Muslim, what practicing Muslims call an apostate.

He's also supposed to be a lawyer, a constitutional scholar, nobel prize winner, christian, and "community organizer." Is there anything he's not a complete screw up in?

 

[Cecilie1200]

Yeah, I'm sure that lovely attitude has paid off well for you.

I'm good. I was born lucky.

Yeah, well, I'm good and I WASN'T born lucky. For the record, I also wasn't born good. I became good because I worked at it. When I was in high school, my father had a major stroke. By my senior year, he was clearly dying and my family was moving to Tucson with no income and no more belongings than we could pack into our cars. My mother had always worked, but never at anything skilled or high-paying, because she never needed to. Her job had always been more about "mad money", discretionary income that could be used for extras and luxuries. Now she had a dying husband and a teenager to support.

First thing she did was put her foot down and insist that, whatever happened, I was graduating high school. Second thing she did was apply to every single job she could find that she was even vaguely qualified for, no matter how much she thought it sucked. Third thing she did was accept an offer and work at a job she loathed, because it paid the best and had the most stability at the time. Fourth thing she did was get a second job, cleaning houses for retirees and shut-ins on her days off.

We lived in an apartment that literally had nothing to recommend it other than walls and a stable address. It had a roof, but the freaking thing leaked like a sieve. The cockroaches were big enough to throw a saddle on and ride, and we had to bug bomb the place once a month, because they kept coming back. At first, we couldn't afford the deposits to turn on both the electricity and the gas, so we did without the furnace and water heater (both gas) and took cold showers and slept in one room around an electric space heater. We learned the joys of the Tucson metropolitan transit system, since our cars broke down and died within a year of moving, and we couldn't afford to fix them. The nearest supermarket was a mile-and-a-half walk, and grocery shopping was a misery, because Mom was too honest to heist a shopping basket and we had to carry all the bags by hand.

The week after I graduated high school, I got a job cleaning kennels at a veterinary hospital. It wasn't long after that that my mother was able to quit her hated full-time job and make a steady living just off of her housecleaning business, because she was trustworthy and cleaned like a demon. None of this "swipe down the middle of the room with a vacuum and we're good" crap. She scrubbed toilets until you could drink your tea out of them, and the insides of the ovens gleamed (the secret is to thoroughly coat the racks with oven cleaner, tie them up in garbage bags, and let them sit until you finish the rest of the kitchen. Then you just wash them in soapy water, and they look like new.)

I went to clerical school, and when I graduated, no one would hire me, because I was 20 years old and looked about 16, and had very little practical work experience. I signed on with a temporary agency and spent a few years busing all over the city to temp assignments. Pay was crap, and there was obviously no job security at all, but I learned. And I made connections. Eventually, a temp assignment to one of the departments at the University of Arizona became a permanent position as a secretary, and I eventually had a very nice career as an administrative assistant. I also met my husband at the U of A, as he was just finishing up his degree. Amazing how much difference marrying the father of my children and staying together for twenty years made.

Dad's dead now, and Mom's retired to a nice little acre of land out in the county. And me? Well, I recently decided I wasn't happy with my current job, and started putting out resumes. My biggest problem is finding enough time on my days off - because I'm not stupid enough to quit a job just because I hate it without first finding another one - to fit all the interview appointments in.

Neither of us became the next Bill Gates, because neither of us was trying to. But don't ever tell me that poor people can't work and educate themselves out of poverty.

I don't give a shit. You are too arrogant for words.

People who actually know what the fuck they're doing generally are. And people who don't know what the fuck they're doing generally dismiss everything with, "I don't want to know the truth. All I care about is YOU'RE MEAN."

Very mature.

Tell us again how rough you had it during your formative years. You know what those are, don't you?

That would be where I learned to be competent and self-reliant, instead of a sniveling crybaby like some people.

 

[LoneLaugher]

I'm good. I was born lucky.

Yeah, well, I'm good and I WASN'T born lucky. For the record, I also wasn't born good. I became good because I worked at it. When I was in high school, my father had a major stroke. By my senior year, he was clearly dying and my family was moving to Tucson with no income and no more belongings than we could pack into our cars. My mother had always worked, but never at anything skilled or high-paying, because she never needed to. Her job had always been more about "mad money", discretionary income that could be used for extras and luxuries. Now she had a dying husband and a teenager to support.

First thing she did was put her foot down and insist that, whatever happened, I was graduating high school. Second thing she did was apply to every single job she could find that she was even vaguely qualified for, no matter how much she thought it sucked. Third thing she did was accept an offer and work at a job she loathed, because it paid the best and had the most stability at the time. Fourth thing she did was get a second job, cleaning houses for retirees and shut-ins on her days off.

We lived in an apartment that literally had nothing to recommend it other than walls and a stable address. It had a roof, but the freaking thing leaked like a sieve. The cockroaches were big enough to throw a saddle on and ride, and we had to bug bomb the place once a month, because they kept coming back. At first, we couldn't afford the deposits to turn on both the electricity and the gas, so we did without the furnace and water heater (both gas) and took cold showers and slept in one room around an electric space heater. We learned the joys of the Tucson metropolitan transit system, since our cars broke down and died within a year of moving, and we couldn't afford to fix them. The nearest supermarket was a mile-and-a-half walk, and grocery shopping was a misery, because Mom was too honest to heist a shopping basket and we had to carry all the bags by hand.

The week after I graduated high school, I got a job cleaning kennels at a veterinary hospital. It wasn't long after that that my mother was able to quit her hated full-time job and make a steady living just off of her housecleaning business, because she was trustworthy and cleaned like a demon. None of this "swipe down the middle of the room with a vacuum and we're good" crap. She scrubbed toilets until you could drink your tea out of them, and the insides of the ovens gleamed (the secret is to thoroughly coat the racks with oven cleaner, tie them up in garbage bags, and let them sit until you finish the rest of the kitchen. Then you just wash them in soapy water, and they look like new.)

I went to clerical school, and when I graduated, no one would hire me, because I was 20 years old and looked about 16, and had very little practical work experience. I signed on with a temporary agency and spent a few years busing all over the city to temp assignments. Pay was crap, and there was obviously no job security at all, but I learned. And I made connections. Eventually, a temp assignment to one of the departments at the University of Arizona became a permanent position as a secretary, and I eventually had a very nice career as an administrative assistant. I also met my husband at the U of A, as he was just finishing up his degree. Amazing how much difference marrying the father of my children and staying together for twenty years made.

Dad's dead now, and Mom's retired to a nice little acre of land out in the county. And me? Well, I recently decided I wasn't happy with my current job, and started putting out resumes. My biggest problem is finding enough time on my days off - because I'm not stupid enough to quit a job just because I hate it without first finding another one - to fit all the interview appointments in.

Neither of us became the next Bill Gates, because neither of us was trying to. But don't ever tell me that poor people can't work and educate themselves out of poverty.

I don't give a shit. You are too arrogant for words.

People who actually know what the fuck they're doing generally are. And people who don't know what the fuck they're doing generally dismiss everything with, "I don't want to know the truth. All I care about is YOU'RE MEAN."

Very mature.

Tell us again how rough you had it during your formative years. You know what those are, don't you?

That would be where I learned to be competent and self-reliant, instead of a sniveling crybaby like some people.

You admit it then.....cool.

 

[ScienceRocks]

It isn't going away until blacks are willing to look in the mirror and open their arms to whites.

 

[Geaux4it]

It isn't going away until blacks are willing to look in the mirror and open their arms to whites.

And add until Obama leaves office......

-Geaux

 

[Cecilie1200]

Yeah, well, I'm good and I WASN'T born lucky. For the record, I also wasn't born good. I became good because I worked at it. When I was in high school, my father had a major stroke. By my senior year, he was clearly dying and my family was moving to Tucson with no income and no more belongings than we could pack into our cars. My mother had always worked, but never at anything skilled or high-paying, because she never needed to. Her job had always been more about "mad money", discretionary income that could be used for extras and luxuries. Now she had a dying husband and a teenager to support.

First thing she did was put her foot down and insist that, whatever happened, I was graduating high school. Second thing she did was apply to every single job she could find that she was even vaguely qualified for, no matter how much she thought it sucked. Third thing she did was accept an offer and work at a job she loathed, because it paid the best and had the most stability at the time. Fourth thing she did was get a second job, cleaning houses for retirees and shut-ins on her days off.

We lived in an apartment that literally had nothing to recommend it other than walls and a stable address. It had a roof, but the freaking thing leaked like a sieve. The cockroaches were big enough to throw a saddle on and ride, and we had to bug bomb the place once a month, because they kept coming back. At first, we couldn't afford the deposits to turn on both the electricity and the gas, so we did without the furnace and water heater (both gas) and took cold showers and slept in one room around an electric space heater. We learned the joys of the Tucson metropolitan transit system, since our cars broke down and died within a year of moving, and we couldn't afford to fix them. The nearest supermarket was a mile-and-a-half walk, and grocery shopping was a misery, because Mom was too honest to heist a shopping basket and we had to carry all the bags by hand.

The week after I graduated high school, I got a job cleaning kennels at a veterinary hospital. It wasn't long after that that my mother was able to quit her hated full-time job and make a steady living just off of her housecleaning business, because she was trustworthy and cleaned like a demon. None of this "swipe down the middle of the room with a vacuum and we're good" crap. She scrubbed toilets until you could drink your tea out of them, and the insides of the ovens gleamed (the secret is to thoroughly coat the racks with oven cleaner, tie them up in garbage bags, and let them sit until you finish the rest of the kitchen. Then you just wash them in soapy water, and they look like new.)

I went to clerical school, and when I graduated, no one would hire me, because I was 20 years old and looked about 16, and had very little practical work experience. I signed on with a temporary agency and spent a few years busing all over the city to temp assignments. Pay was crap, and there was obviously no job security at all, but I learned. And I made connections. Eventually, a temp assignment to one of the departments at the University of Arizona became a permanent position as a secretary, and I eventually had a very nice career as an administrative assistant. I also met my husband at the U of A, as he was just finishing up his degree. Amazing how much difference marrying the father of my children and staying together for twenty years made.

Dad's dead now, and Mom's retired to a nice little acre of land out in the county. And me? Well, I recently decided I wasn't happy with my current job, and started putting out resumes. My biggest problem is finding enough time on my days off - because I'm not stupid enough to quit a job just because I hate it without first finding another one - to fit all the interview appointments in.

Neither of us became the next Bill Gates, because neither of us was trying to. But don't ever tell me that poor people can't work and educate themselves out of poverty.

I don't give a shit. You are too arrogant for words.

People who actually know what the fuck they're doing generally are. And people who don't know what the fuck they're doing generally dismiss everything with, "I don't want to know the truth. All I care about is YOU'RE MEAN."

Very mature.

Tell us again how rough you had it during your formative years. You know what those are, don't you?

That would be where I learned to be competent and self-reliant, instead of a sniveling crybaby like some people.

You admit it then.....cool.

That I'm competent and self-reliant? Yup, I have no problem admitting that at all.

 

[saintmichaeldefendthem]

Yeah, well, I'm good and I WASN'T born lucky. For the record, I also wasn't born good. I became good because I worked at it. When I was in high school, my father had a major stroke. By my senior year, he was clearly dying and my family was moving to Tucson with no income and no more belongings than we could pack into our cars. My mother had always worked, but never at anything skilled or high-paying, because she never needed to. Her job had always been more about "mad money", discretionary income that could be used for extras and luxuries. Now she had a dying husband and a teenager to support.

First thing she did was put her foot down and insist that, whatever happened, I was graduating high school. Second thing she did was apply to every single job she could find that she was even vaguely qualified for, no matter how much she thought it sucked. Third thing she did was accept an offer and work at a job she loathed, because it paid the best and had the most stability at the time. Fourth thing she did was get a second job, cleaning houses for retirees and shut-ins on her days off.

We lived in an apartment that literally had nothing to recommend it other than walls and a stable address. It had a roof, but the freaking thing leaked like a sieve. The cockroaches were big enough to throw a saddle on and ride, and we had to bug bomb the place once a month, because they kept coming back. At first, we couldn't afford the deposits to turn on both the electricity and the gas, so we did without the furnace and water heater (both gas) and took cold showers and slept in one room around an electric space heater. We learned the joys of the Tucson metropolitan transit system, since our cars broke down and died within a year of moving, and we couldn't afford to fix them. The nearest supermarket was a mile-and-a-half walk, and grocery shopping was a misery, because Mom was too honest to heist a shopping basket and we had to carry all the bags by hand.

The week after I graduated high school, I got a job cleaning kennels at a veterinary hospital. It wasn't long after that that my mother was able to quit her hated full-time job and make a steady living just off of her housecleaning business, because she was trustworthy and cleaned like a demon. None of this "swipe down the middle of the room with a vacuum and we're good" crap. She scrubbed toilets until you could drink your tea out of them, and the insides of the ovens gleamed (the secret is to thoroughly coat the racks with oven cleaner, tie them up in garbage bags, and let them sit until you finish the rest of the kitchen. Then you just wash them in soapy water, and they look like new.)

I went to clerical school, and when I graduated, no one would hire me, because I was 20 years old and looked about 16, and had very little practical work experience. I signed on with a temporary agency and spent a few years busing all over the city to temp assignments. Pay was crap, and there was obviously no job security at all, but I learned. And I made connections. Eventually, a temp assignment to one of the departments at the University of Arizona became a permanent position as a secretary, and I eventually had a very nice career as an administrative assistant. I also met my husband at the U of A, as he was just finishing up his degree. Amazing how much difference marrying the father of my children and staying together for twenty years made.

Dad's dead now, and Mom's retired to a nice little acre of land out in the county. And me? Well, I recently decided I wasn't happy with my current job, and started putting out resumes. My biggest problem is finding enough time on my days off - because I'm not stupid enough to quit a job just because I hate it without first finding another one - to fit all the interview appointments in.

Neither of us became the next Bill Gates, because neither of us was trying to. But don't ever tell me that poor people can't work and educate themselves out of poverty.

The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire!