by Ayoob » Mon 14 May 2007, 03:26:35
$this->bbcode_second_pass_quote('thuja', 'W')hy is it that dumb black people persist in living in the inner city? I mean duh! I mean its dirty and crowded there...and there's lots of crime. A smart person would have moved out long ago to where all the fresh clean air is. Oh wait the smart people (white) did...they all moved to the suburbs and left the dumb black people to fester in the inner city. Then they didn't even know what to do when there was a flood. Silly blacks...get in your cars and drive to your summer cabins...I can't believe those silly rats...I mean blacks.
I worked in the ghettos of Los Angeles for the last year and a half driving an ambulance. The horrors of the hood got to me at some point and I started asking people to their faces why they were such garbage.
You would be amazed at the responses. There was one guy who grew up in Pasadena, got a full-ride scholarship to a small, private university on the East Coast. He won an essay contest or something. He goes to school there, parties for half a semester, and drops out. Back to Pasadena. There he gets a ten dollar an hour job, meets some single mother who lives in the hood, and marries her. She says she won't move away from her mother, so he moves to a not-quite-post-apocalyptic part of the hood.
Can you believe that series of events? It's ridiculous. He threw his life away. I told him (to his face) that he brings the quality of life in South Central DOWN because of his incredible stupidity. He started talking about slavery and I told him to STFU. You have GOT to be kidding me. Nobody held him down. In fact, he was given the key to the Good Life and he threw it away in a record two months. And then shackled himself to the ghetto forever.
I've driven around huge piles of garbage piled up on the corner of a busy intersection. Alleys with piles of burning garbage. Graffiti of the most hopeless kind. Dozens upon dozens multiplied by hundreds of indigent homeless filthy dreadlocked black men hunkered down on a corner or passed out in a doorway. Boarded up windows, and every dwelling with a live human being inside has steel bars over every opening. Patients of mine with three steel doors covering one doorway in the front of their house, and many shotguns leaned up against many walls.
Taco trucks parked between dumpsters in an alley with several dead cats stuck to the pavement, garbage swirling around in the wind, and people lined up to buy their breakfast of fried grease. Then they would step over tiny little rivers of fermenting garbage and eat it in the stink of the alley.
Children beating the shit out of each other in feral packs in front yards. Stolen bicycles for sale. And I can't describe the filth to you. It's a third world there. Nobody is safe in the hood.
So I started asking. "Why do you live here? You know they have apartments for rent in Glendale."
Here are the answers.
1. It ain't so bad here. A couple blocks over that way and a couple blocks the other way, that's where most of the bad people live. There's a trashy girl and her gangbanger friends that live next door, but I think they'll move away soon.
2. This is where my friends live. What am I supposed to do?
3. The rent is cheap.
4. What do you mean, it's fine here. This is a good place to live.
5. My job is right up the street.
6. There won't be nobody to talk to there.
7. I can't afford to move.
I went to an all-black (well, except for me) college for a couple of classes. One was a prerequisite for a program I was applying to, and this was the only school for a hundred miles in any direction that had that class, and I could take the other prereq I needed on the same day there, so I decided to make the best of it.
I couldn't believe the low intelligence and the low quality of education the kids displayed there. Is wheat a protein or a carbohydrate? Nobody knew. I don't remember too many other questions that everybody got wrong, but I remember being shocked that so many people got common sense questions completely wrong. It's as though they'd never seen food before to answer the questions the way they did.
In the other class, the kid on my left turned in a paper that was a single run-on sentence. One capital letter, two hundred words, and a single period at the bottom of the paper. The girl on my other side asked me what a research paper was. She said, I already know what I want to write. I asked her which books she was using. Books? You need books to write a paper? Yeah. Then she asked me to explain the difference between a journal and a regular magazine, "like the ones in the grocery store." This is in college. I did my first research paper in fourth grade.
The professor was commonly late an hour or more to a three-hour class, and usually spent half the time or more talking about the rights and respect due to the transgendered. Then he would make up these farcical situations in which someone died in a car crash, and her twin sister had the dead sibling's reproductive tract surgically implanted in her own body, "and she had a body like Beyonce, Wham up here and Wham down there," and you just wouldn't believe it. He never graded anything and there were no tests. He came up to me in mid-semester and apologized for the poor quality of the class. Later, as I was rounding the corner to come up the stairs for another three-hour idiocyfest, I heard a girl that sat a couple seats over from me as she bemoaned yet another abomination in the classroom, "Leave it to black people to make a mess of something." The other three or four black students all laughed and said Yeah, that's true. As soon as I made the corner they all ducked their heads and split up.
The government ought to do something. This crime is terrible. The city ought to shut down that porno store. Did you hear about that poor child that got shot the other day? The police should do something about it.
Meanwhile, a man is pushing his child down the street in a stroller. Oh, I meant a stolen shopping cart. And another is running across the street with a velvet tiger painting he stole from some illegal immigrant selling artwork on the corner of an abandoned building.
They don't think it's so bad.
Just as a counterpoint, consider Singapore. You get fined for spitting on the sidewalk there, and get caned for vandalizing cars. I believe there are very strict punishments for using drugs as well. We don't have those kind of severe rules here in the states, we prefer a little more freedom. Well, just slide down the scale a couple hundred notches and you end up with the black ghettos in South Central LA.
There were a couple guys I worked with that I tried to convince to move out of the hood. To a man, they all said No. They liked it there. They said so themselves. That is home, that's how they like it, and that's how it is.
One black girl that grew up in the hood hated the hood and wanted to get out. She bought me a copy of The Origin Of Species. She's planning on going to medical school and she wants to work at the CDC. One afternoon, when one savage negro was threatening another with a chair held over his head saying he was going to bash her head in (this was at work, in the office) she walked over to me and apologized on behalf of all black people that I had to witness this behavior. No joke. I hope you make it out, honey. It's gotta be tough.
Nothing happened to either one of those two employees. Both of them still work there. As a side note, the woman can't subtract. 120-80=X is literally too difficult for her to solve. She handed me the piece of paper with this math problem on it and asked me to do it for her. "I'm not too good at math."
After a while I felt like an anthropologist studying cargo cults. It was so bad. Bottom line is I hate the hood and the people that live in the hood. They make the hood what it is and they like it like that.
Fuck 'em.