http://www.israpundit.com/2008/?p=2929#more-2929 Obama: “Show your loyalty to the black masses, strike out and name names”
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Obama: “Show your loyalty to the black masses, strike out and name names”
Please post and circulate as widely as possible. The truth about Barack Obama’s “Dreams From My Father” is more damning than the smears and urban legends. Unlike the latter, the following quotes all have page numbers to allow the reader to visit a bookstore or library, or order the book over the Internet and verify that Barack Obama really wrote this material.
But this strategy alone couldn’t provide the distance I wanted, from Joyce or my past. After all, there were thousands of so-called campus radicals, most of them white and tenured and happily tolerated. No, it remained necessary to prove which side you were on, to show your loyalty to the black masses, to strike out and name names.
“Dreams From My Father,” page 101 (paperback, ISBN 978-1-4000-8277-3)
Joyce was a multiracial classmate who wouldn’t embrace her Black heritage to Barack Obama’s satisfaction, as shown by this excerpt.
That was the problem with people like Joyce. They talked about the richness of their multicultural heritage and it sounced real good, until you noticed that they avoided black people. …The truth was that I understood [Joyce], her and all the other black kids who felt the way she did. In their mannerisms, their speech, their mixed-up hearts, I kept recognizing pieces of myself. And that’s exactly what scared me. Their confusion made me question my own racial credentials all over again. …To avoid being mistaken for a sellout, I chose my friends carefully. The more politically active black students. The foreign students. The Chicanos. The Marxist professors and structural feminists and punk-rock performance poets.
“Dreams From My Father,” pages 99-100
Although many of us change our politics after college, Barack Obama’s membership in a racist church (what else would one call a church that cheers a remark like “There were a whole lot of white people crying?”), his reluctance to “reject” Louis Farrakhan’s endorsement, and his open association with individuals like Al Sharpton (of Freddy’s Fashion Mart infamy) and Jeremiah “God Damn America” Wright show that Barack Obama is totally unfit to hold a position of public trust in a multiracial and multi-ethnic nation like the United States.
Here are more quotes from “Dreams From My Father,” all with page numbers. See for yourself, and decide whether someone like this can represent Americans who come in almost every color and ethnicity on earth.
Tim was not a conscious brother. Tim wore argyle sweaters and pressed jeans and talked like Beaver Cleaver. …His white girlfriend was probably waiting for him up in his room, listening to country music.
“Dreams From My Father,” pp. 101-102
Right; Tim’s white girlfriend was one of those “bitter” small town people who “cling to guns and religions” per Barry himself, or just “white trash”–the more concise term his supporters use at my.barackobama.com, over which his campaign exercises editorial control. You know, those working folks who drive pickup trucks with gun racks under the rear window, like NASCAR races, and of course listen to country music. Note also Barry’s objection to his black classmate’s white girlfriend.
Obama’s only problem with Black Nationalism had to do with questions of its effectiveness
It contradicted the morality my mother had taught me, a morality of subtle distinctions–between individuals of goodwill and those who wished me ill, between active malice and ignorance or indifference. I had a personal stake in that moral framework; I’d discovered that I couldn’t escape it if I tried. And yet perhaps it was a framework that blacks in this country could no longer afford; perhaps it weakened black resolve, encouraged confusion within the ranks. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and for many blacks, times were chronically desperate. If nationalism could create a strong and effective insularity, deliver on its promise of self-respect, then the hurt it might cause well-meaning whites, or the inner turmoil it caused people like me, would be of little consequence.
If nationalism could deliver. As it turned out, questions of effectiveness, and not sentiment, caused most of my quarrels with Rafiq.
–Dreams From My Father, pp. 199-200
…I ceased to advertise my mother’s race at the age of twelve or thirteen, when I began to suspect that by doing so I was ingratiating myself to whites… (page xv)
I blew a few smoke rings, remembering those years. Pot had helped, and booze; maybe a little blow when you could afford it. Not smack, though… (page 93) [http://www.whitehousedrugpolicy.gov/streetterms/ByAlpha.asp?strTerm=B, “Blow” = “Cocaine; to inhale cocaine; to smoke marijuana; to inject heroin”]
I would occasionally pick up the paper [Louis Farrakhan's "The Final Call"] from these unfailingly polite men, in part out of sympathy to their heavy suits in the summer, their thin coats in winter; or sometimes because my attention was caught by the sensational, tabloid-style headlines (CAUCASIAN WOMAN ADMITS: WHITES ARE THE DEVIL). Inside the front cover, one found reprints of the minister’s [Farrakhan's] speeches, as well as stories that could have been picked straight off the AP news wire were it not for certain editorial embelleshments (”Jewish Senator Metzenbaum announced today…”).
Dreams From My Father, p. 201
Obama the Racial Unifier:
That was the problem with people like Joyce [a college classmate of Italian, African-American, Native American, and French ethnicity]. They talked about the richness of their multicultural heritage and it sounced real good, until you noticed that they avoided black people. …The truth was that I understood [Joyce], her and all the other black kids who felt the way she did. In their mannerisms, their speech, their mixed-up hearts, I kept recognizing pieces of myself. And that’s exactly what scared me. Their confusion made me question my own racial credentials all over again. …To avoid being mistaken for a sellout, I chose my friends carefully. The more politically active black students. The foreign students. The Chicanos. The Marxist professors and structural feminists and punk-rock performance poets.
“Dreams From My Father,” pages 99-100
But this strategy alone couldn’t provide the distance I wanted, from Joyce or my past. After all, there were thousands of so-called campus radicals, most of them white and tenured and happily tolerated. No, it remained necessary to prove which side you were on, to show your loyalty to the black masses, to strike out and name names.
“Dreams From My Father,” page 101
There is only one “side” for a person who wishes to represent the people of the United States, who come in almost every race and ethnicity on earth, and that is the American side. This country does not need or want a White Nationalist, Black Nationalist, or anything other than an American Nationalist in any position of public trust or responsibility in this country.