The poetry of racists

A Sikh-owned gas station in Chesterfield, Virginia was burned and defaced with racist graffiti last week (via Prashant Kothari):

[T]he attackers put the gas station on fire on Wednesday and left after smearing the remaining property with graffiti containing ethnic slurs… The words “Go Back to Bin Laden B–” and “Never Again Indian Monkey N–” were sprayed on a dumpster in the rear of the gas station property. In addition, the words, “F– Arab Gas” were spray painted on the gas station’s shed… “Now they call us Osama bin Laden. In 1979, when Iranians held Americans hostage, they used to call us Ayatollahs,’ says Bammi.

I sure do miss the good ol’ days when the racists weren’t utterly ignorant. The thugs in Britain didn’t call you Eye-rainians, Eye-rackies (mortal enemies of the Eye-rainians) and bin Ladens (mortal enemy of the Eye-rackies) all at once. There was an intimacy to their taunting. And ‘Indian Monkey N–‘ is missing a few other ethnically-inaccurate insults. Is it too much to ask for my racism to be specific?

But ‘F– Arab Gas’ fills me with hope. Hope that they’re energy policy-conscious racist arsonists who want a self-reliant, muscular country which can’t be blackmailed over a non-indigenous resource. And curiosity about whether these gentlemen voted for Arab gas’ #1 friend.

Yep, I sure do miss the good ol’ days.

2 thoughts on “The poetry of racists

  1. “I was walking down the street the other day and this guy called me a chink. I was so offended! My family are from Korea. I’m a gook! I mean, can’t the guy get himself a redneck-to-English dictionary or something? If you are gonna be a racist, at least get the terminology right.”

    • Margaret Cho