When you’ve done something pretty bad, or nothing particularly good, the best defense is a good offense.  Attack mode works better than the smoothest excuses—God forbid you should ever apologize!—to obscure your faults and silence criticism before it is even uttered.  Thus we find that the loudest complainers in our midst are those who caused most of the problems in the first place and contribute the least to their solution.

For instance: Between 300 and 400 years ago, your ancestors were brought to the Americas as slaves.  There, your numbers increased exponentially until you outnumbered the master class in many regions.

About 200 years ago, the British applied diplomatic pressure, raided ports, boarded ships on the high seas, engaged in skirmishes, and finally put an end to the slave trade worldwide.

Then, 150 years ago, you were emancipated in the United States by means of a gruesome war that killed nearly 700,000 American men, mostly young and almost all white.  The Battle of Gettysburg alone slaughtered 51,112 in a mere three days.

Your emancipation preceded the emancipation of Russia’s (white) serfs by several years.

Today, there is not a single country in your ancestral homeland where you would enjoy the rights, the opportunities, the education, the prosperity, the freedom, the fame, and the sheer fabulous fun that are yours in the modern United States of America.  In addition to enjoying the rights of all Americans, years of special entitlement programs costing your fellow citizens billions of dollars have enshrined you as a protected class.

Meanwhile, your rank-and-file commits violent crime at rates up to 30 times higher than your proportion of the populace, yet you wonder why people cross the street when they see you coming or want to check out why you’re driving slowly through their neighborhood.  Yell “racism!” and you can literally get away with murder.

Despite watered-down curricula, grade inflation, multiculturalism, innumerable special programs, lawsuits, and (more) yelling, your children “underperform” in school.  After decades of affirmative action, the numbers still aren’t on your side.

So what do you do?

You shrilly remind everyone on a daily basis that you were once slaves, so that explains and excuses all.  You claim you developed all the sciences first, long ago, then had them stolen out from under your nose, so that’s why you can’t master them anymore.

You let your leaders mouth the vilest slanders against this country, its white citizens, its history, its founders, its institutions, its beliefs, and its good faith.  No charge is too outrageous or nonsensical for your esteemed statesmen: Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, Louis Farrakhan.

George Washington: an irrelevant slaveholder in a goofy powdered wig.  Thomas Jefferson: a “pedophile and rapist.”  George W. Bush: an illegitimately installed Führer dedicated heart and soul to keeping you down so the evil majority can continue living off the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of your people.

(My personal favorite is Spike Lee’s comment that Mozart was “some little creep.”  Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart—some little creep.  Compared to whom?  To the stunted, untalented Mr. Lee?)

Another instance: The unhygienic behavior of your subculture creates a huge reservoir of infectious disease, which begins to spill over into the general population—TB, hepatitis B and C, STDs galore.  Finally you pick up something really exotic and unusual, incubate it a while, then introduce it to society.  The ensuing epidemic rages, costing billions, killing millions (including newborn babies), and nearly wrecking the entire health-insurance industry.

So what do you do?

You “act up.”  You scream nonstop that not enough is being done or spent, the government is trying to wipe you out, mainstream society wants you all to die off horribly, “Silence kills!”  You promote the theory that this plague was actually hatched by evil straight white scientists (forgive the redundancy) to eliminate your precious presence from Earth.

The Catholic Church dares to condemn the lifestyle of your subculture, calling it “self-destructive.”  But you know how to deal with them: You use the scandals caused by your own actions—say, when you infiltrate the priesthood and molest altar boys—as weapons against the Church itself.  See: All priests are pedophiles!  The brilliance of audacity.  It works so well that you are also using the tactic against the hated Boy Scouts of America.

These two cases by no means exhaust the list.  What about wymyn, led by Our Lady of Perpetual Outrage, Sir Edmund’s social-climbing namesake Hillary?  This oppressed “gender” has the longest lifespan of any class of human ever on the planet.  Its members handily outnumber the “other gender” (OG).  They can’t be drafted, but they can vote.  They take the cushy jobs, not the bone-crushing ones.  They fill the law schools, grad schools, colleges, and universities.

Ah, but they are not happy.  They do not Have It All.  So they deride technological marvels as “boys’ toys.”  They dismiss the human race’s long struggle for freedom as “testosterone poisoning.”  They bitch endlessly that the OG fails to do its fair share of childcare and housework.

We could go on and on, but readers will already be able to identify other glaring cases of preemptive aggression toward our society.  The pattern is always the same.  First, keep up the fire implacably, louder and hotter, lest the target have a moment’s blessed peace in which to analyze the cogency and merits of your abuse.  Second, wherever possible, have it both ways.  For example, claim there is absolutely nothing “gay” about the AIDS epidemic—but, at the same time, claim that, because it is predominantly a homosexual affliction, “nobody cares” about it.  Or claim that PMS is nothing but a misogynist myth—but, at the same time, claim that, because the syndrome only afflicts wymyn, “nobody cares” about it.

Strange but true: Parasites don’t just feed physically upon the material substance of others but batten metaphysically upon the order and the joy of others’ lives.  Impossible as it may be for self-sufficient people to comprehend, there really are those who thrive on sowing misery, confusion, and self-loathing in others.  Such people are the psychic-vampire cousins of those so attracted to the greatness of the celebrated that they just have to stab them to death.

Sometimes even the right, whose job is supposed to be to cheer us on, seems to have given up and joined the spiteful chorus, substituting its own critique: We’re the weak, sick, soft, depraved slaves of Leviathan, not worth a pitcher of warm Kool-Aid.

All of these aggrieved parties have one thing in common: They are on the outside looking in, ranting against the “complacency” and “insensitivity” of those inside.  Call it the Castro Syndrome: an unrequited lust for recognition and acceptance that curdles into relentless enmity.

These are the true homeless.  As Colin Wilson wrote so perceptively, outsiders “are never alive in what they do.”  And they demand a living piece of those who are.

But in the end, the venom palls, and life goes on, and we have already wasted too much of our brief stint on this wondrous planet to spend any more time listening politely to the “constructive criticism” of these most dubious of advisors.  Life is for the living.  And life is very good.