How do you convince someone that what is obvious true, is false?
Like when a child asks their mother for chocolate and she says “No”. They go ask their father and tell him, “Mom says I can have some chocolate.” Then Dad says, “Your mother said yes?” The child replies, “Ah, yeah! Mom says it’s okay!”
The force behind the conviction of the three year olds vote renders the inarticulate and lazy willed father into acquiescence.
How do you convince a person what they know to be true, is false?
In the 1967 comedic movie, A Guide for the Married Man, Walter Matthew is tired of his wife and is looking for sexual adventure. He gets advice from his cad neighbor on how to cheat on your spouse without getting caught.
One episode in the movie depicts Joey Bishop. He is caught in bed with a naked woman by his wife, Ann Morgan Gilbert. She keeps asking him, “What is he doing? Who is that woman? What has he done?” Bishop repeatedly responds, “What? Who? Where?” Deny! Deny! Deny! Eventually, Gilbert is gas lighted. What she saw didn’t happen.
Which brings me to my real question?
How did white people convince the rest of the world that they are the majority?
You have an answer?
It is certainly observable from many points of examination that the caucasian is not the majority race on the planet. Haven’t been. Never will.
Somehow in the past Whitey got everyone on this world to agree that the white priority the white privilege somehow superseded everyone else’s society, interests, privilege, right away, goals, hopes, wishes, pleas, entitlements, benefits, authority.
There are of course the litany of excuses from the white race of why they believe they are the majority. The list ranges from genetic, to chosen by God, to living within a specific parallel on the planet.
My metaphor on this minority-majority is that we’re looking at a fearful Bichon. It’s snapping and yapping at all the other dogs that have melanin in their coat and it doesn’t.
It has always been afraid that the bigger dogs, the majority, are going to take away its food and water. So to protect itself it barks at the other dogs, bites them, reserves the right to kill them, all in the effort to maintain its position as best pooch on the block.
It’s a hard thing always living in fear.
Someone needs to tell that barking dog that its part of the pack. We are all here for each other through good times and bad.
There is a place at the table for all.