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On starting a book on racism.
CATALONIA TODAY – SECTION: LONG-TERM RESIDENT - ARTICLE ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY
I've just started to lie down in a bed made by myself and it already feels uncomfortable as hell. I knew what I was letting myself in for, so I thought, when I told the publisher that the next non-fiction book would be about racism. After all, I'd been surrounded by it all my life, racism being, as it were, very much in the European air. Wayward racist thoughts had occasionally even slipped into one of my ears, shaming the brain before they came thankfully out of the other. I'd also read plenty about slavery and lynchings in the US and more conversant even, I was, with the Shoah, including all the years of beard-cutting and shop-boycotting that preceded the bullets in the nape and the shoves into pitch black chambers.
Nonetheless, I was surprised, having begun to lower myself into the collective mental sewer of my chosen subject, just how unplumbed its depths were. None deeper, than those which revealed how the perpetrators of the above-mentioned crimes felt fully justified thanks to a series of ideas put in place – albeit unwittingly, in some cases – by countless European thinkers and scientists, eminent figures all, such as Fichte, Carlyle and Herder with their concept of national character deriving from 'blood', which later (1853) helped the novelist Joseph Arthur, Count of Gobineau to 'demonstrate' inequalities between different 'races', before passing on his venom-smeared baton to Houston Stewart Chamberlain (1855-1927), the once reputable English philosopher (now considered mad as a March hare) who gave both NSDAP leaders and Mississippi yokels a theoretical green light to mix wilful stupidity with gratuitous violence and so put those ubiquitous smug smiles on the photos (which I have to look at every day now) of Aryans young and old as they jeer at dead mutilated niggers and soon-to-be-dead cowering Yids. If only it was all a thing of the past. If only!