Aside from an extreme shortage of fervent prayer and a lack of good fashion sense, I usually believe that America is doing all right. However, lately I’ve been noticing a disturbing trend in today’s multicultural American society – every black person that I see is a horrible racist!

     For instance, yesterday I heard a noise outside and was peeking through my curtains when I saw some carefree black youth strolling down my street. I can  only guess where he was going because I don’t believe there are any basketball courts in that direction he was headed, but that’s not what bothered me most.

     I watched the young negro man strut lazily past my house for what seemed like an entire five minutes, whistling and eating a banana as he went. And just as he reached the edge of my property, he threw his rotten old banana peel over his shoulder and it landed within inches of my well-maintained lawn and he just kept on a-walking!

     I was beside myself, as you can imagine. Would he have held onto his banana peel and tossed it into a garbage can if he had been walking in front of an old black lady’s house instead? You bet he would! But his racist little mind thought that he should put one over on the mean old white lady who sprays her garden hose at him when he tries selling candy to her on her own front porch!

     I wanted to rush out and wop him over his dirty little head with a broom, but I know that a broom is no match for a pistol and I’m quite sure that that hate-filled child had one hidden in his shorts or sneakers.

     I read the news, and I watch it, too, so I know how the world is nowadays.

     Now keep in mind that ever since Philip died ten years ago, I’ve had to live in this old house all by myself with all kinds of strange neighbors moving in and out of the neighborhood faster than I can keep track of them. After a Mexican family moved in across the street, I had bars installed on all the windows. A group of Chinese college students moved in next door a few months later and now I have reinforced iron gates in front of every door on my house.

     It’s a sad day when the only way you can feel safe from racism is by fortifying your own beautiful home with unattractive electrically-charged fences and a couple of German Shepherds who have been trained to kill any dark-skinned intruder in less than 30 seconds.

     But all this anti-white racism isn’t just affecting me at home, it’s happening in public, too.

     Just the other day I was driving home from the gourmet grocery store and I got confused and accidentally turned into a poverty-stricken neighborhood that I would ordinarily avoid at all costs. While sitting at a bullet-riddled stop sign, gripping a can of mace that I keep under my seat and praying that the sun wouldn’t go down before I could get out of there, I turned to see a black man walking on the sidewalk in my general direction.

     I reached over and cautiously pressed my door-lock button, relieved to find that the doors were already tightly locked. I suppose the black man saw me do this because he turned from the direction he was walking and started approaching my car! Before he could come one step closer, I let my window have it with the mace, stinging my own eyes and making me cough as I slammed on the accelerator pedal. As I sped off, I heard the native African man either call out, “I’m going to hurt you,” or “Can I help you?” or something like that.

     I can never understand what those people say most of the time, which makes me think that they’re speaking in some kind of secret code that I don’t know. How’s that for rude?

     And speaking of rudeness, I’ve found that even God’s holy house isn’t safe from the sticky fingers of racial intolerance anymore.

     A few weeks ago, a small family of black people began attending my church, and I’ll be darned for eternity’s sake if every time I turn around to look at them, I see one or more of those people staring back at me! Even their little brown baby sometimes!

     I don’t want to be treated like that in my own church! We’re all the same color in God’s eyes, so why can’t they just leave me alone because my skin isn’t as black as Satan’s deathbed?

     I’ll tell you right now that I’m praying every night for the president of this country to figure out a way to heal all of the racial hatred and impurity that plagues this country. If that means that this country needs to be divided into three or four parts for all of the different races of the world to live in, then so be it.

     But in the meantime, I’ll be doing my part by putting up this sign in my front yard that reads, “Leave my race and my house alone OR ELSE!” Let’s just hope they can read it.