Message from Outboarduniform in The Right Server #shitpost
Higher quality version
based dalai lama
Russia protecting itself
This is a very long gif
Not a gif tho oof
i hate niggers
i hate niggers
My Philanthropic Friendsæ‚ t is my painful duty to address some words to you this evening, on the Rights of Negroes. Taking, as we hope we do, an extensive survey of social affairs, which we find all in a state of the frightfullest embroilment, and as it were, of inextricable final bankruptcy, just at present; and being desirous to adjust ourselves in that huge up-break, and unutterable welter of tumbling ruins, and to see well that our grand proposed Association of Associations, the Universal Abolition-of-Pain Association, which is meant to be the consummate golden flower and summary of modern philanthropisms all in one, do not issue as a universal é‰„luggard-and-Scoundrel Protection Societyè¿«we have judged that, before constituting ourselves, it would be proper to commune earnestly with one another and discourse together on the leading elements of our great Problem, which surely is one of the greatest. With this view the Council has decided, both that the Negro Question, as lying at the bottom, was to be the first handled, and if possible the first settled; and then also, what was of much more questionable wisdom, that ãƒ»that, in short, I was to be speaker on the occasion. An honorable duty; yet, as I said, a painful one! Well, you shall hear what I have to say on the matter; and probably you will not in the least like it.
West Indian affairs, as we all know, and as some of us know to our cost, are rather in a troublous condition this good while. In regard to West Indian affairs, however, Lord John Russell is able to comfort us with one fact, in- disputable where so many are dubious, that the negroes are all very happy and doing well. A fact very comfort- able indeed. West Indian whites, it is admitted, are far enough from happy; West Indian Colonies not unlike sinking wholly into ruin; at home, too, the British whites are rather badly off, several millions of them hanging on the verge of continual famine; and in single towns, many thousands of them very sore put to it, at this time, not to live åŠªell,ãƒ»or as a man should, in any sense temporal or spiritual, but to live at all ãƒ»these, again, are uncomfortable facts; and they are extremely extensive and important ones. But, thank heaven, our interesting black population, equalling almost in number of heads one of the Ridings of Yorkshire, and in worth, in (quantity of intellect, faculty, docility, energy, and available human valor and value) perhaps one of the streets of Seven [p.240] Dials, are all doing remarkably well. é‰„weet blighted lilies,ãƒ»as the American epitaph on the nigger child has it, sweet blighted lilies, they are holding up their heads again! How pleasant, in the universal bankruptcy abroad, and dun, dreary stagnancy at home, as if for England too there remained nothing but to suppress Chartist riots, banish united Irishmen, vote the supplies, and wait with arms crossed till black anarchy and social death devoured us also, as it has the others; how pleasant to have always this fact to fall back upon: our beautiful black darlings are at least happy; with lit- tie labor except to the teeth, which, surely, in those excellent horse-jaws of theirs, will not fail!
Exeter Hall, my philanthropic friends, has had its way in this matter. The twenty millions,* a mere trifle despatched with a single dash of the pen, are paid; and far over the sea, we have a few black persons rendered extremely åreeãƒ»indeed. Sitting yonder, with their beautiful muzzles up to the ears in pumpkins, imbibing sweet pulps and juices; the grinder and incisor teeth ready for every new work, and the pumpkins cheap as grass in those rich climates, while the sugar-crops rot round them uncut, because labor cannot be hired, so cheap are the pumpkins; and at home we are required but to rasp from the break- fast loaves of our own English laborers some slight é›»ifferential sugar-duties,ãƒ»and lend a poor half million, or a few poor millions now and then, to keep that beautiful state of matters April, going on. A state of matters lovely to contemplate in these emancipated epochs of the human mind; which has earned us not only the praises of Exeter Hall, and loud, long eared hallelujahs of laudatory psalmody from the friends of freedom everywhere, but lasting favor (it is hoped) from the Heavenly Powers themselves, and which may, at least, justly appeal to the Heavenly Powers, and ask them, if ever in terrestrial procedure they saw the match of it? Certainly in the past history of the human species it has no parallel: nor, one, hopes, will it have in the future. [Some emotion in the audience, which the chairman suppressed.]
Sunk in deep froth oceans of é‡˜enevolence,ãƒ»æ“¢raternity,ãƒ»æ‘˜mancipa- tion-principle,ãƒ»é¼Žhristian Philanthropy,ãƒ»and other amiable-looking, but most baseless, and in the end baleful and all-bewildering jargon, sad pro- duct of a sceptical eighteenth century, and of poor human hearts left destitute of any earnest guidance, and dis- believing that there ever was any, Christian or Heathen, and reduced to believe in rose-pink Sentimentalism alone, and to cultivate the same under its Christian, Antichristian, Broad- brimmed, Brutus-braded, and other forms, has not the human species gone strange roads during that period? And poor Exeter Hall, cultivating the Broad-brimmed form of Christian Sentimentalisin, and long talking and bleating and braying in that strain, has it not worked out results? Our West Indian legislatings, with their spoutings, anti-spoutings, and interminable jangle and babble; our twenty millions down on the nail for blacks of our own; thirty gradual millions [p.241] more, and many brave British lives to boot, in watching blacks of other people's; and now at last our ruined sugar-estates, differential sugar-duties, å¦¬mmigration loan,ãƒ»and beautiful blacks sitting there up to the ears in pumpkins, and doleful whites sitting here without potatoes to eat: never till now, I think, did the sun look down on such a jumble of human nonsenses. God grant that the measure may now at last be full! But no, it is not yet full; we have a long way to travel back, and terrible flounderings to make, and in fact an immense load of nonsense to dislodge from our poor heads, and manifold cobwebs to rend from our poor eyes, before we get into the road again, and can begin to act as serious men that have work to do in this universe, and no longer as windy sentimentalists that merely have speeches to deliver and despatches to write. O, Heaven, in West Indian matters, and in all manner of matters, it is so with us: the more is the sorrow!
The West Indies, it appears, are short of labor, as indeed is very conceivable in those circumstances. Where a black man, by working about half an hour a day (such is the calculation), can supply himself, by aid of sun and soil, with as much pumpkin as will suffice, he is likely to be a little stiff to raise into hard work! Supply and demand, which science says should be brought to bear on him, have an uphill task of it with such a man. Strong sun supplies itself gratis, rich soil in those unpeopled, or half-peopled regions almost gratis; these are his éƒ½upply,ãƒ»and half an hour a day, directed upon these, will produce pumpkin, which is his é›»emand.ãƒ»The fortunate black man, very swiftly does he settle his account with supply and demand ; not so swiftly the less fortunate white man of those tropical localities. A bad case his, just now. He himself cannot work; and his black neighbor, rich in pumpkin, is in no haste to help him. Sunk to the ears in pumpkin, imbibing saccharine juices, and much at his ease in the creation, he can listen to the less fortunate white manç—´ é›»emand,ãƒ»and take his own time in supplying it. Higher wages, massa; higher, for your cane-crop cannot wait; still higher, till no conceivable opulence of cane-crop will cover such wages. In Demerara, as I read in the blue book of last year, the cane-crop, far and wide, stands rotting; the fortunate black gentlemen, strong in their pumpkins, having all struck till the é›»emandãƒ»rise a little. Sweet, blighted lilies, now getting up their heads again!
Science, however, has a remedy still. Since the demand is so pressing, and the supply so inadequate, (equal in fact to nothing in some places, as appears,) increase the supply; bring more blacks into the labor market, then will the rate fall, says science. Not the least surprising part of our West-Indian policy is this recipe of å¦¬mmigration;ãƒ»of keeping down the labor-market in those islands by importing new Africans to labor and live there.* If the Africans that are already there could be made to lay down their pumpkins, and labor for their living, there are already Africans enough. If the [p.242] new Africans, after laboring a little, take to pumpkins like the others, what remedy is there? To bring in new and ever new Africans, say you, till pumpkins themselves grow dear; till the country is crowded with Africans; and black men there, like white men here, are forced by hunger to labor for their living? That will be a consummation. To have å…Žmancipatedãƒ»the West Indies into a Black Ireland; åree,ãƒ»indeed, but an Ireland, and Black! The world may yet see prodigies; and reality be stranger than a nightmare dream.
Our own white or sallow Ireland, sluttishly starving from age to age on its act-of-parliament åreedom,ãƒ»was hitherto the flower of mismanagement among the nations; but what will this be to a Negro Ireland, with pumpkins themselves fallen scarce like potatoes? Imagination cannot fathom such an object; the belly of Chaos never held the like. The human mind, in its wide wanderings, has not dreamt yet of such a åreedomãƒ»as that will be. Towards that, if Exeter Hall and science of supply and demand are to continue our guides in the matter, we are daily traveling, and even struggling, with loans of half a million and such like, to accelerate ourselves.
Truly, my philanthropic friends, Exeter Hall philanthropy is wonderful. And the social science ãƒ»not a å µay science,ãƒ»but a rueful ãƒ»which finds the secret of this universe in éƒ½upply and demand,ãƒ»and reduces the duty of human governors to that of letting men alone, is also wonderful. Not a å µay science,ãƒ»I should say, like some we have heard of; no, a dreary, desolate, and indeed quite abject and distressing one; what we might call, by way of eminence, the dismal science. These two, Exeter Hall philanthropy and the dismal science, led by any sacred cause of black emancipation, or the like, to fall in love and make a wedding of it, will give birth to progenies and prodigies; dark, extensive moon-calves, unnameable abortions, wide-coiled monstrosities, such as the world has not seen hitherto! [Increased emotion, again suppressed by the chairman.]
In fact, it will behove us of this English nation to overhaul our West Indian procedure from top to bottom, and ascertain a little better what it is that fact and nature demand of us, and what only Exeter Hall wedded to the Dismal Science demands. To the former set of demands we will endeavor, at our peril, and worse peril than our purseç—´, at our soulç—´ peril, to give all obedience. To the latter we will very frequently demur, and try if we can- not stop short where they contradict the former, and especially before arriving at the black throat of ruin, whither they appear to be leading us. Alas! in many other provinces besides the West Indian, that unhappy wedlock of Philanthropic Liberalism and the Dismal Science has engendered such all-enveloping delusions, of the moon-calf sort, and wrought huge woe for us, and the poor civilized world, in these days. And sore will be the battle with said moon-calves; and terrible the struggle to return out of our delusions, floating rapidly on which, not the West Indies alone, but Europe generally, is nearing the Niagara Falls. [Here various persons, in an agitated manner, with an air of indignation, left the room, especially one very tall gentleman in white trousers, [p.243] whose boots creaked much. The President, in a resolved voice, with a look of official rigor, whatever his own private feelings might be, enjoined éƒ½ilence, silence!ãƒ»nbsp; The meeting again sat motionless.]
My philanthropic friends, can you discern no fixed headlands in this wide-weltering deluge of benevolent twaddle and revolutionary grape-shot, that has burst forth on us; no sure bearings at all? Fact and Nature, it seems to me, say a few words to us, if happily we have still an ear for fact and nature. Let us listen a little and try.