Rules for Innocents

Underneath the hotel I always stayed in Bulgaria is an (unlicensed) Buddha Bar, where the music blared on until 3-4 AM daily. But some of it was unique and interesting, so much so, I wanted a copy and was willing to pay for it. So, one morning I went around to ask about it. So I walked in, and no one was there except a bartender and a floor boss. I said, “Excuse me, but I was wondering…” when I was interrupted with “Get out of my bar, you steenking f**king Amerikan!), so I turned and walked back out.

….

What this is, is war…without guns…being waged against us. They are no longer inhibited by social conventions.  They are emboldened and will do this now without qualm, guilt or shame. And while it is always our desire to live in a live-and-let-live world, they are not. And they don’t believe they should have to, anymore.

….

Remember, you are innocent, and I don’t just mean Innocent as a baby is innocent. You are innocent of their accusations. If you believe in God, the leftists hate you. If you believe in Jesus or Abraham the radical Islamists hate you. If you believe in free will or liberty, or the Constitution,they both hate you. And sadly, of late, if you are white, they hate you twice over.

THESE ARE THE RULES FOR INNOCENTS
No.1: Don’t Apologize

That’s what they want you to do, apologize for having done absolutely nothing to them. This gives them power over you.

No 2: Don’t Defend or Argue

There is an easy 3-step slice-and-dice that, with practice, will have your attacker wishing he’s never met you.

No 3: First, Don’t Retreat.

Especially with your eyes and facial expression. Controlled rage works best. Teach your eyes to spit fire,. This puts them off balance for it is not what they expected.

No 4: Don’t get Angry

You’ve heard me say this before, don’t ever get angry at dogs for being dogs

Source: Rules for Innocents

On the Crying of “Wolf!”

If you can’t call a black out for misbehavior, you’re the racist.

Black Protest Has Lost Its Power

Have whites finally found the courage to judge African-Americans fairly by universal standards?

By Shelby Steele
Jan. 12, 2018

The recent protests by black players in the National Football League were rather sad for their fruitlessness. They may point to the end of an era for black America, and for the country generally—an era in which protest has been the primary means of black advancement in American life.

There was a forced and unconvincing solemnity on the faces of these players as they refused to stand for the national anthem. They seemed more dutiful than passionate, as if they were mimicking the courage of earlier black athletes who had protested: Tommie Smith and John Carlos, fists in the air at the 1968 Olympics; Muhammad Ali, fearlessly raging against the Vietnam War; Jackie Robinson, defiantly running the bases in the face of racist taunts. The NFL protesters seemed to hope for a little ennoblement by association.

And protest has long been an ennobling tradition in black American life. From the Montgomery bus boycott to the march on Selma, from lunch-counter sit-ins and Freedom Rides to the 1963 March on Washington, only protest could open the way to freedom and the acknowledgment of full humanity. So it was a high calling in black life. It required great sacrifice and entailed great risk. Martin Luther King Jr. , the archetypal black protester, made his sacrifices, ennobled all of America, and was then shot dead.

For the NFL players there was no real sacrifice, no risk and no achievement. Still, in black America there remains a great reverence for protest. Through protest—especially in the 1950s and ’60s—we, as a people, touched greatness. Protest, not immigration, was our way into the American Dream. Freedom in this country had always been relative to race, and it was black protest that made freedom an absolute.

It is not surprising, then, that these black football players would don the mantle of protest. The surprise was that it didn’t work. They had misread the historic moment. They were not speaking truth to power. Rather, they were figures of pathos, mindlessly loyal to a black identity that had run its course.

What they missed is a simple truth that is both obvious and unutterable: The oppression of black people is over with. This is politically incorrect news, but it is true nonetheless. We blacks are, today, a free people. It is as if freedom sneaked up and caught us by surprise.

Of course this does not mean there is no racism left in American life. Racism is endemic to the human condition, just as stupidity is. We will always have to be on guard against it. But now it is recognized as a scourge, as the crowning immorality of our age and our history.

Protest always tries to make a point. But what happens when that point already has been made—when, in this case, racism has become anathema and freedom has expanded?

What happened was that black America was confronted with a new problem: the shock of freedom. This is what replaced racism as our primary difficulty. Blacks had survived every form of human debasement with ingenuity, self-reliance, a deep and ironic humor, a capacity for self-reinvention and a heroic fortitude. But we had no experience of wide-open freedom.

Watch out that you get what you ask for, the saying goes. Freedom came to blacks with an overlay of cruelty because it meant we had to look at ourselves without the excuse of oppression. Four centuries of dehumanization had left us underdeveloped in many ways, and within the world’s most highly developed society. When freedom expanded, we became more accountable for that underdevelopment. So freedom put blacks at risk of being judged inferior, the very libel that had always been used against us.

To hear, for example, that more than 4,000 people were shot in Chicago in 2016 embarrasses us because this level of largely black-on-black crime cannot be blamed simply on white racism.

We can say that past oppression left us unprepared for freedom. This is certainly true. But it is no consolation. Freedom is just freedom. It is a condition, not an agent of change. It does not develop or uplift those who win it. Freedom holds us accountable no matter the disadvantages we inherit from the past. The tragedy in Chicago—rightly or wrongly—reflects on black America.

That’s why, in the face of freedom’s unsparing judgmentalism, we reflexively claim that freedom is a lie. We conjure elaborate narratives that give white racism new life in the present: “systemic” and “structural” racism, racist “microaggressions,” “white privilege,” and so on. All these narratives insist that blacks are still victims of racism, and that freedom’s accountability is an injustice.

We end up giving victimization the charisma of black authenticity. Suffering, poverty and underdevelopment are the things that make you “truly black.” Success and achievement throw your authenticity into question.

The NFL protests were not really about injustice. Instead such protests are usually genuflections to today’s victim-focused black identity. Protest is the action arm of this identity. It is not seeking a new and better world; it merely wants documentation that the old racist world still exists. It wants an excuse.

For any formerly oppressed group, there will be an expectation that the past will somehow be an excuse for difficulties in the present. This is the expectation behind the NFL protests and the many protests of groups like Black Lives Matter. The near-hysteria around the deaths of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Freddie Gray and others is also a hunger for the excuse of racial victimization, a determination to keep it alive. To a degree, black America’s self-esteem is invested in the illusion that we live under a cloud of continuing injustice.

When you don’t know how to go forward, you never just sit there; you go backward into what you know, into what is familiar and comfortable and, most of all, exonerating. You rebuild in your own mind the oppression that is fading from the world. And you feel this abstract, fabricated oppression as if it were your personal truth, the truth around which your character is formed. Watching the antics of Black Lives Matter is like watching people literally aspiring to black victimization, longing for it as for a consummation.

But the NFL protests may be a harbinger of change. They elicited considerable resentment. There have been counterprotests. TV viewership has gone down. Ticket sales have dropped. What is remarkable about this response is that it may foretell a new fearlessness in white America—a new willingness in whites (and blacks outside the victim-focused identity) to say to blacks what they really think and feel, to judge blacks fairly by standards that are universal.

We blacks have lived in a bubble since the 1960s because whites have been deferential for fear of being seen as racist. The NFL protests reveal the fundamental obsolescence—for both blacks and whites—of a victim-focused approach to racial inequality. It causes whites to retreat into deference and blacks to become nothing more than victims. It makes engaging as human beings and as citizens impermissible, a betrayal of the sacred group identity. Black victimization is not much with us any more as a reality, but it remains all too powerful as a hegemony.

Mr. Steele, a senior fellow at Stanford University’s Hoover Institution, is author of “Shame: How America’s Past Sins Have Polarized Our Country” (Basic Books, 2015).

As a matter of fact, minimum wage laws hurt the poor

NO ONE LIKES to admit having been wrong. It’s especially tough for members of the pundit class, whose job amounts to telling people what to think. So when National Review’s critic-at-large Kyle Smith last week published a piece with the headline “We Were Wrong About Stop-and-Frisk,” people noticed.

Smith and National Review are conservative. Like many conservatives, they had predicted that if New York Mayor Bill de Blasio fulfilled his campaign pledge to end stop-and-frisk — the police practice of stopping, questioning, and patting down people for weapons merely because they seemed suspicious — crime in the city would go up. But that’s not what happened.

In the four years since de Blasio became mayor, conceded Smith, major crime has declined “to the lowest rates since New York City began keeping extensive records on crime in the early 1960s.” The left-wing mayor turned out to be right about stop-and-frisk. The right-wing journal said so, and in so doing, displayed more loyalty to truth than to theory.

Following facts where they lead is a principle easier to state than to live up to, particularly when the facts upend our preconceptions. Some public-policy debates are endless because they are rooted in disagreement over fundamental principles — the question of capital punishment, for example. But other disputes ought to be resolvable, at some point, by facts on the ground. Advocates of an aggressive stop-and-frisk policy were certain the only alternative was higher crime rates. They were mistaken. The honest response is to acknowledge it, and end the debate.

Another controversy that should be laid to rest is the impact of minimum-wage laws.

When government raises the lowest hourly wage at which a worker may lawfully be employed, does it help those at the foot of the economic ladder? The issue has been fought over for decades. Yet reality repeatedly renders the same verdict: Artificially hiking minimum wages makes it harder to employ unskilled workers. Raising the cost of labor invariably prices some marginal laborers out of the job market. Advocates of higher minimums may wish to ensure a “living wage” for the working poor. Yet the result is that fewer poor people get work.

Two years ago, Seattle’s hourly minimum wage jumped to $13, the second hike in less than a year. Before the legislation was enacted, there had been the usual arguments pro and con. But the impact of Seattle’s law is now a matter of facts, not theory. And those facts confirm what opponents of the increase had foretold: Minimum-wage hikes hurt the poor.

In a major research paper last summer, economists commissioned by the city of Seattle reported that the hike to $13 an hour caused a decline in the employment of low-wage workers. For those who remained employed, it caused a sharp cutback in hours. When the gain from higher hourly wages was set against the loss of jobs and hours, the bottom line was stark: “The minimum wage ordinance lowered low-wage employees’ earnings by an average of $125 per month in 2016.”

Another 2017 study, by Harvard Business School scholars, analyzed the effect of minimum wage hikes on San Francisco-area restaurants. The upshot: Every $1 increase in the mandatory minimum wage led to a 14 percent increase in the likelihood that a median-rated restaurant would go out of business. Decades of empirical research, dating back to the first federal minimum-wage law, have reached similar conclusions.

In 18 states this month, minimum wages are going up. Will those changes make unskilled workers more employable? Will the hours they work be increased? As in Seattle and the Bay Area, these questions will have answers. Soon enough, fresh data will shed even more light on the question of what happens to unskilled laborers when their labor is made more costly. Perhaps that will be the moment when someone more loyal to truth than to theory will publish an essay bowing to reality and conceding, at long last: “We Were Wrong About the Minimum Wage.”