Roach: Taking a look at an America without diversity

"We are all born of dreamers"
Roach: Taking a look at an America without diversity

In the past weeks, we were forced to watch khaki clad, white boys waddle down the street in Charlottesville, Virginia, with $3.99 Home Depot Tiki torches held preposterously above their empty heads. After their rally for white supremacy, one of them killed a white woman with his car, which seems grossly off-strategy for a white superiority movement.

Let us set aside, if possible, the sheer hatred and ignorance of their cause. Let’s forget their self-pitying whine of white oppression so pathetic in its weakness.

And let’s forget, for the moment, that not one of these guys has presumably ever satisfied a woman.

Instead, let us imagine the awful place America would be if their sick wish came true.

Let’s imagine, for an unbearable moment, that America was as white as a neo-Nazi pot roast tailgate in a Chick-fil-A parking lot. Mayonnaise would be our national fruit. Everything we eat would fit between white bread. Our dancing would be arrhythmic and asexual. High school kids would form committees to not have a dance because it would be just too awkward.

Every running back in the NFL would be white. As would all the wide receivers. All of them. As a former white halfback and wideout myself, I have no trepidation saying that an all-white NFL would be as inert and dull as lard. As for a solely white NBA, well, such a prospect is too horrifying to ponder.

And our culture? Polka music would dominate the airwaves. Let that sink in for a little bit. Polka.

Whose songs would serenade us? What would our world be like without Miles Davis, Sam Cooke, Chuck Berry, Marvin Gaye, Billie Holiday, Aretha Franklin, Whitney Houston and Beyonce? Without Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, Earth Wind and Fire, Nelly or Prince? Are you kidding me?

Think about it. When you turned on the radio, you would only hear The Six Fat Dutchmen.
Our neo-Nazi friends also have an issue with Jewish folks. Which is funny because their movement thrives on the internet; a system which was organized by two Jewish guys–Sergey Brin and Larry Page–who invented Google, which pretty much drives the whole damn world. And their dominant search engine serves devices conceived and created by Steve Jobs, the son of a Syrian refugee. Let’s repeat that–a Syrian refugee.

If these guys were true white supremacists, they would refuse to use any device or system associated with what they perceive to be lesser races, which would force them to communicate by yodeling to each other from nearby hilltops.

It’s tough to feel racially superior while yodeling. It just is.

These white boys also don’t like Latinos, as if they are somehow outsiders, when in fact, Latinos beat all white people to America.

Latinos founded Los Angeles! It’s home to Hollywood and all the action movies white boys ever loved. If it weren’t for Hollywood, every American film would be shot in Texas and would end up looking like “Walker, Texas Ranger,” which makes you more stupid every time you watch it. Which actually explains a lot about these guys.

Also, how would these doughy, white supremacists find the energy to march if it wasn’t for Taco Bell?

Most importantly, if America were pure white, we wouldn’t be America.

The very thing that makes us the most powerful, prosperous nation in world history is that we are not inbred. Our strength and brilliance come from diverse sources from all over the world. It is not a coincidence that we are back-to-back world war champions against monochromatic countries.

Why? Because America is the wonderful, colorful, brilliant opposite of inbred.

We are all born of dreamers, who live in a land of dreams. Dreams that will never be extinguished by weak, petty men.

Look. I am a white male myself. I’ve spent a lot of time with white people. Trust me. We are not that fun. Or interesting.

This reality reveals the ultimate, irrefutable truth of what a White America would be.

We would all be dead within a generation.

And the cause?

Sheer boredom.

Madison-based television producer John Roach writes this column monthly. Reach him at