Saturday, November 06, 2010
Bigot Games and the Strange Fruit
In Nova Scotia, a man is convicted of burning a cross, with a noose dangling from it, on the lawn of a black and white couple.
And some seek to excuse him.
“I’m not saying it should have been done because it shouldn’t have been, but everyone makes mistakes when they’re young,” he said about Justin Rehberg. “I’ve done foolish things that I’m not crazy about, but that’s life.”
In Ontario a man in a KKK costume leads a man in blackface around with a rope around his neck. In a Legion hall. And at Free Dominion via Dr Dawg...
You would never hear a "Klan" member enable/defend baby torturing/murdering, pedophilia, theft of private property, abuse of the system to steal houses from the infirm or money from defenceless teens.
You get the picture, lieberals are far worse than any "Klan" member could ever be. Course some idiots whine about a costume party but ignore the real important issues in life.
In Toronto, Royson James wonders about other KKK dress up parties, and reminds me of that old Billy Holiday song.
“Southern trees bear strange fruit/ blood on the leaves and blood at the root/ black bodies swinging in the southern breeze / strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.”
It will never go away. The horror. The revolting images of black men strung up on trees, roasted alive for sport on a Sunday afternoon in sunny Georgia or Alabama or...
Or just about EVERYWHERE.
Picture it. Men of the Ku Klux Klan draped in white sheets. The sacrificial lamb, caught like a goat, strung up with a noose, burned alive, photographed, the pictures sent north as postcards for relatives to catch a glimpse of life in the genteel South.
Thousands of Southerners would turn up for those lynching parties. Suspect a black man of a crime, and the KKK-led mob would lead the victim to a horrific fate.
Any representation of this, at Halloween or in any other ghoulish festival, is a new lynching.
And I tell you, it is not easy to bear.
I know how he feels. Those who forget history are condemned to repeat it.
I don't just want to defeat them. I want to destroy them.
“Here is fruit for the crows to pluck / For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck/ For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop / Here is a strange and bitter crop.”
Sing Billy sing...