Michael Weller
"The Island for the Whites", Book II, Chapter 14.
Kill bastards
They sat in a small apartment on the sixth floor, and there was a bottle and an ashtray between them. And they looked about forty years old. One man had the appearance of an angel torn by earthly life: a clean face, a feminine mouth, flaxen hair, blue eyes, but wrinkles around the eyes and folds at the mouth gave the angelic face an expression of fatigue. The other was a burly man who looked like John Wayne in his prime. Only a Stetson hat and a neckerchief were missing.
Well, outside the window there was a normal urban landscape, and in the corner something flashed on the TV.
And there would be nothing remarkable in this ordinary everyday scene if it were not for the frenzied fury in the speeches of one of the interlocutors and not their terrible content. What is noteworthy: it was the blue-eyed angel who spewed fire and smoke, while the brutal macho wrinkled and groaned – which once again confirms the well-known truth that appearances are deceiving.
"We can't do anything about them, Joe. A lot of them. They have all the power. And money. TV and social media. And the army. Government. Storm trooper squads. And a lot of people believe them, that's the worst thing! What can we do?.."
"Kill!"
"Whom? What are you talking about?.. There are many of them, they are strength. Whom to kill? You won't liquidate anyone. Are you going to kill everyone?"
"No. It is not needed to kill everyone."
"Then whom? Who is needed to be killed?
"You know, I endured everything. For a long time. A very long time. I endured when the college accepted not me, but a black man. He was dumber and didn't know shit. But he was black! And that was enough. Then I endured when not me, but a Negro was appointed as a senior dispatcher. He could hardly count and always forgot everything, but he was black! And that was the main thing.
Then they took me to racial repentance classes or whatever they called it. In these courses they taught that you are shit because you are white. And everything white people have done is shit. And our country is shit because it is racist. And all our history. Our flag, and the founding fathers, and writers, in general, are all crap. And the most important thing in the world is black.
And more yet – the poor is the most important. Don't give a shit that the poor can be lazy, a crook, a drug addict, a slacker – it's your fault! Because you have white privilege. And you have to work for him, you understand? You must give your earnings to him so that he live no worse than you. Because it's called social justice.
You know, I took it when my old man in Baltimore was dumped on the street by some black bastard. "Polar Bear", you know. Such a game, such a sweet one, a game of black sons of bitches. Knock a white man off his feet with one punch to the jaw. A stranger. On the street. Suddenly. Better – an old man: it's easier to dump him, and you won't get any punch back. I had to go there, to find the bastard and mutilate him. My father got a concussion and spent a month in the hospital. And I, a fucking asshole, just comforted him on the phone.
However, when they got to the kids, that was all. This was the end. This was the limit. They won't walk around alive anymore. That is, a kind of red-assed bitch, some kind of democratic scum rummaged through the networks and decided that I "allow extremist statements." I stir up discord. I'm undermining democracy. What the fuck is democracy in this fascist state?!
And so they came. Three of them. A cop, a lawyer, and commissioner or whatever her guardianship is. Well, everybody's home, Saturday. I opened. And here it is: they have a decision for you.
Jenny immediately turned white, she is hysterical, screaming, hugging the children. They did not understand anything, they were frightened, they roar. And these two women from hell, authorized with a lawyer, went to the children and began to unhook them: they say, let's go, children, you will be fine, and then your mother will come to you, and then we will pick up your things and toys.
Do you understand? Well, tell me: what to do? How to be? Mike is in tears, Jen is clinging to her mother, she is only five years old. Well, what to do?
"And did they have all the papers in order as it ought to be?
"Don't doubt it. It was a pack of legal papers."
"Get a lawyer."
"Yes, they say, of course: contact the site at any time. And if you wish to come personally – make an appointment: on weekdays from nine to eleven. Now step back, you are breaking the law, this is a criminal liability!"
"Yes…"
"Here's you "yes", damn it." In short, as you know, they took away weapons from everyone a long time ago. Well ... We had a vase on the shelf by the door, brass, with patterns, about six pounds. I grabbed a vase and kicked the policeman in the head!"
"And then?..
"He dropped dead! I pulled out his "Glock", the bitches immediately got as though paralyzed, they looked as though they did not believe what is happening. Well, I shot them on the spot. Bitches, if I could, I would have torn them to pieces! Well, I also shot the policeman – to be sure: just in case if he was still alive."
"Fuck… what to do now?.."
"What to do?! Everything was already done. Nobody seemed to hear the shots. Or maybe they heard, but no one is willing to interfere in anything. We got ready in five minutes – all the documents, all the cash that was available except for the credit cards, well, then we took something of the clothes – and into the car. And I drove their car into my place in the garage: to not loom in front of the house. They shouldn't be missed at least for half an hour.
"Twenty minutes later I left Jenny and the kids at the diner, and I pulled up to a garage of used cars, sold my car and bought another, low-key Toyota Corolla. We rushed east, then south, moving to Mexico. Thank God, the wall was never completed."
"Listen, then why did you come back here? They'll find you!"
"They will get tired of looking. The guys made the documents for me OK, they also entered everything that was needed into the computer data base. I am now Jan Kowalski from Poland, working visa."
"You're out of your mind! Your fingerprints are in their file cabinet – one hundred percent. And then the whole house was sniffed, how could it be otherwise?! You're up to the first check. Face control by the first policeman."
"You were a slow thinker already at school. The prints in the filing cabinet have long since been replaced. A huge convenience of our time: in order to rob a bank, you do not have to get out of your chair at home. The same to steal the plans of the General Staff. A good hacker is the master of the world, Robin Hood, in front of which Washington sheriffs tremble, fuck them."
And here I am – to fight. I can't stand away, do you understand? Everything inside me is on fire. I can't take it anymore. And when they lie brazenly in the eyes, and when people are humiliated, and when they destroy everything that was created with sweat and blood – kill them! They understand only that. They destroyed the country, they want to destroy all of us, to take out the brain from us, take out the soul, and put their shit in instead.
If you see a judge destroying a person who dared not to love BLM, who did not kneel – kill the bastard! Does an impudent bastard sneer at a decent person? Kill him on the spot! You can't re-educate him. If you see they close the store where people worked, and the corporation only knows to open its supermarkets everywhere? Kill the one who closed. Who made this decision. Who came after the soul of the owner. Kill! Only then will others understand.
We have forgotten how to fight for freedom, for our place under the sun. Well... While we're still alive, it's not too late to fix things...
They want to make the States a country of blacks, Latinos, Muslims and motherfuckers. All the best – to idlers, all power – to liars! That is their slogan – do you understand? It will not work! We built it all, it was our ancestors who discovered this country, mastered it, built it, raised it.
And to no one – to no one! – can we give it away! A lot of all sorts of parasites will crawl on a ready-made place, on a warm and satisfying place, starting to shit in the brain that it is necessary to sustain them. So, kill the bastards! It won't get any worse. There is nothing worse than that.
And I assure you, when we, normal hard workers, natural and hereditary Americans, get seriously angry – well, we are already angry. These guys woke up the beast and will regret about it.
That's my whole story for you. Kill the bastards! And if this gets the position of the entire people – it will be the end of our enemies. They are all idlers. Parasites. They only know how to talk, and they know how to steal, break everything and beg for a freebie.
All those venal vile politicians, all those billionaires who imagined themselves to be the dictators of the world, all those learned talkers from their stinking universities where they teach hatred and communism, all those looters and fascists of all colors of the rainbow, all those propagandists who fucked men in the ass: didn't they have enough that we met their demands and allowed to breathe? Was it not enough for them that they were met halfway and given all sorts of benefits? Yet anyway they decided to destroy us – the normal, white, hard workers, family-minded, honest? What for, bastard ?! Because we are not like them? Because we are normal? Because they are uncomfortable to feel inferior freaks next to us and that is why we should be destroyed? Well, we will destroy them. They are not people. It is rot, gangrene, syphilis, stinking carrion, which poisons everything around. And as it is now killing us – well, fuck them! Kill the bastards!