Antonio Cromartie is one of the numerous professional and amateur athletes in America who now refuse to stand during the playing of the national anthem. Cromartie plays for the Indianapolis Colts and makes over three million greenbacks per annum. He refuses to stand as a protest at white America’s oppression of black America. (The refusal to stand was started by another black football player, who makes even more money and who was adopted and lovingly brought up by a white couple.)
Cromartie, you see, is the father of 12 children by eight women. He has been chased around by various agencies because he has not been rigorous in paying for his brood. In fact, he’s been avoiding bailiffs in the style of professional footballers avoiding tacklers. His children, needless to say, will most likely end up in that self-oppressed neverland that his rank irresponsibility has virtually guaranteed. Yet he is portrayed as a great weekend warrior by the ass-licking media, one that legitimately protests the oppression of black Americans. The hypocrisy of the hacks is as preposterous as Cromartie’s paternity standards.
Switch back to the 1 October issue of The Spectator, and a piece written by Kate Chisholm about the fact that ‘seven young people dying every day in the USA from gunshot wounds barely earns a national shrug’. Yes, they do — and a lot more than that, and 40 per cent of the dead are blacks, 90 per cent of them shot by other blacks. A single pop, ‘like a balloon popping’, and a mother’s son is gone.
I have now been here for three weeks. Every day I look at the crime section of the New York Post and have yet to see a white man being arrested for a violent crime. It seems to be either an African American or a Hispanic. But wait: say or write what I just did, and the establishment and its media acolytes will banish you to the outer reaches of Siberia. You, sir, are racist, sexist, xenophobic, homophobic and morally deformed, they will thunder.
Welcome to America, where recently a mother of a four-month-old baby and a father of eight children (all with the same wife) were killed by a Hispanic gunman because they were ...police officers. This took place in Palm Springs, not a ghetto but a billionaire’s paradise. One thing is certain: the climate, stoked by the media and the likes of Hillary and her backers, stinks of a relentless war on cops. Here are some facts: although gun violence in America is disproportionately a young black phenomenon, it is presented by editorial writers (of the New York Times) and cartoonists as being perpetrated by obese white men wearing ten-gallon hats.
Here’s the most egregious of Times columnists, one Charles Blow, a black writer, on the violence: ‘The way media and cultural presentations disproportionately display black people, and black men in particular, as dangerous and menacing and criminal.’ He then talks about this being an ‘age in which the language of resistance has been set and accepted...’ Who has accepted what? What is this blowhard talking about? Why doesn’t he advise Cromartie and his ilk not to impregnate young black women.
In New York City alone, blacks, though 25 per cent of the city population, commit almost three quarters of all shootings. Add the Hispanics and you account for 90 per cent of all shootings in the city. Whites, who make up 44 per cent of the population, commit 2 per cent of the shootings. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what has to be done. First of all, forbid Hillary’s mantra about systemic racism. She, and hustlers like her, have spread the big lie that blacks are far more likely to be arrested, charged and incarcerated than whites for doing the same thing. If the woman about to be president of the US spreads such falsehoods, why shouldn’t a race hustler like Al Sharpton do the same?
Law and order are breaking down — since I’ve been here there have been Central Park rapes like those in the bad old days — in inner cities as officers are surrounded by hostile jeering crowds as soon as they get out of their cars to conduct an investigation. It’s called the Ferguson effect. And it works. Crime has shot up as cops choose to ‘depolice’.
And then you have the arty-farty crowd of African Americans who can do no wrong in the eyes of Hollywood or the networks. When William Styron wrote The Confessions of Nat Turner he was in a state of tremendous anxiety about his portrayal of Nat Turner. The film, just out, by the black director Nate Parker, fails to capture the complexity of the events. The subtlety is missing, the novel is buried and none of Styron’s questions is explored. Parker fails to look at himself and takes the easy way out. Massive rage and homicidal violence become the core of his being. Not the Nat Turner I read about.
Earlier this year, it came to light that director, writer and star Nate Parker had been accused of raping a fellow student at Penn State in 1999. His co-defendant was initially found guilty of sexual assault though the conviction was later overturned when the girl declined to testify for a trial. Parker was acquitted. The girl later committed suicide. Parker should do a movie about Cromartie, and stop spreading the message that all black people are considered criminals by the United States.