Editors Note: I use quotes and italics for “white” and various suffixes of it because it’s hard to know who is “white” and how that’s determined anymore. (Mixed? Italians? White Hispanics who have too much conquistador in them? Arabs? North Africa? What?)
Unbearable “Whiteness” overtook these divers as they rescued Thai children who had been stuck in a cave. Pay no attention to the fact that these kids are safe, but rather to their rescuers who were clearly not burdened enough by their… “whiteness”. What deplorables! In fact we should encourage this behavior, but more on that later.
It must be quite the burden. “Whiteness” here. “Whiteness” there. “Whiteness” everywhere! What can be done to deal with horrid state of institutional systematic “whiteness” dear advocates of love, harmony, justice? Sometimes I fear that the burden may be too much to overcome.
The term itself isn’t just speaking truth to power. Lucrative it has become. Over the last few years more and more woke people – often “white” themselves – drop it as an odd badge of honor. It’s now permeated out of the backwater holes and into the mainstream.
Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians? – Adolf Hitler
In 1911 The Turks passed a national gun registration law with no apparent malicious intentions beyond increasing public safety – an argument we’ve heard before. When the Armenian genocide began in 1915, these gun registration lists were used to disarm the Armenian and other Christian populations. When they came to slaughter us, we were helpless.
“Turkish Army battalions cordoned off entire towns and villages and did gun sweeps. Once disarmed, the official state violence visited against the Armenians ratcheted up to murderous levels. Typically, on town-wide sweeps, all of the men and boys were taken away by the Turkish soldiers, never to be seen or heard from again.”
We have no Auschwitz. No memorial exists for us. Mention of the genocide is illegal and can get you shot in Turkey who deny it took place. They back Armenia’s enemies throughout the region, ensuring it’s isolation is complete. Iran is neutral without any intention of backup. We remain a diaspora of survivors scattered through the world.
Even those of us who remain in our homelands of thousands of years that were conquered by the Ottoman and Seljuk Turks and now make up modern Turkey are at risk of losing everything again. Our Muslim neighbors will desire to finish their conquest. It will never stop haunting us.
A few years ago, Turkey’s president, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, threatened to “deport” the remaining Armenian citizens in Turkey. Last year, he called “allegations” that he had Armenian blood “ugly,” insisting he was a “purebred Turk.”
With a mere scoop of your hand you can find our remains, bones, and skulls in the Der Zor desert. For Armenians who make the journey, it’s a painful one. To this day, most of us can’t trace our family histories. The Turks destroyed our churches where we kept our records of marriages and family tree – usually the first step when you want to remove the history of a people from the earth.
“My heart is like shattered homes and broken pillars thrown asunder . . . Wild birds will nest in our ruins . . . Let me throw myself into the water and be food for the fish’s babies . . . White waves lap upon the black sea about us and do not mix . . . In this melancholic, bewildered state, what can my darkened heart do?”– Lyrics translated by Armen Babamian from “Homeless” (Andouni), composed by Gomidas Vartabed in honor of Armenians broken and exiled by the Genocide
IF you want to remember and learn from the Armenian Genocide, make sure you are never fooled into supporting gun control, no matter the excuse. You might be a protected class today, but tomorrow could hold you a criminal. There was no one to come to our aid during the genocide. Reports and coverage were suppressed as much as possible by The Young Turks, thus most of our destruction had already been completed by the end of World War One. It wouldn’t just be us.
It happened to the Greeks, the Assyrians, the Copts, and countless others in the Middle East and Anatolia. Islam became a unifying factor in those who wished for our genocide. Promises of virgins for those who killed Armenians in the name of Allah were given. A headline from 1915 shouted the following, “The caliphate wages jihad against Christians. Victims are beheaded, crucified, and burned alive. Christian girls are sold into slavery. Centuries-old monuments are destroyed by jihadis.”
Of all the peoples of Christendom, our suffering and slaughter may be the worst, though the Greeks, Copts, Assyrians, Syrian Orthodox, Chaldeans, Lebanese, and other peoples of the middle east and northern Mesopotamia have suffered over the centuries under Islamic rule. Of course we haven’t forgotten how the people of Balkans fared under their Ottoman rulers. Even the local Muslims of the area lent their hand to murdering the Christians around them:
The degree of extermination and the brutality of the massacres indicate extreme pent-up hatred on the popular level. Christians, the so-called gawur [also giaour or ghiaour] infidels, were killed in almost all sorts of situations. They were collected at the local town hall, walking in the streets, fleeing on the roads, at harvest, in the villages, in the caves and tunnels, in the caravanserais [an inn with a central courtyard], in the prisons, under torture, on the river rafts, on road repair gangs, on the way to be put on trial. There was no specific and technological way of carrying out the murders like the Nazis’ extermination camps. A common feature was those killed were unarmed, tied up, or otherwise defenseless.
All possible methods of killing were used: shooting, stabbing, stoning, crushing, throat cutting, throwing off of roofs, drowning, decapitation. Witnesses talk of seeing collections of ears and noses and of brigands boasting of their collections of female body parts. The perpetrators not only killed but humiliated the victims…In several instances, decapitated heads of well-known Christians, such as Hanne Safar of Midyat and Ibrahim the Syriac priest of Sa’irt were used as footballs…In Derike, the Syriac Catholic priest Ibrahim Qrom had his beard torn off and was then forced to crawl on all fours with a tormentor on his back, while others kicked him, stabbed him, and finally cut him to pieces.
Virtually every deportation caravan and village massacre was accompanied by serial mass rape of the women. Young girls were abducted as sex slaves and children as household servants. Even when they were not killed outright, the women were often stripped of their clothes. The homes of Christians were broken into, plundered, furniture smashed, windows, and doors removed, set on fire. Sometimes a survivor had little to return home to.
The number of perpetrators of the local massacres was staggering. Apparently the local officials….or the local politicians…had no difficulty in motivating the populace for extermination. The officials established death squads from middle-aged Muslim men. National Assembly deputies…agitated among the Kurdish tribes and even managed to get notorious outlaws…to cooperate in return for loot, adventure, and a promise of amnesty. On a few occasions, Muslim women were present, for instance…at the public humiliation of Christian dignitaries, but mostly the perpetrators were males. There were literally thousands of perpetrators, most of them locals.
Most people never learn from history, if they know it at all. Countless times governments, conquerors, and masters have taken away the weapons of a people. What usually followed was slaughter, massacres, and genocide with little resistance. Still the buzzword sleazy calls for “reasonable common sense gun control” rain down from incel politicians, CEOs, and elites with armed bodyguards who are clearly more important the rest of us.
If only they knew how it felt to be disarmed and defenseless. If it were their entire families being subjected to genocide, surely they wouldn’t make the usual excuses for gun control we hear from Elizabeth Warren, Al Franken, and many other progressive US politicians.
“It couldn’t happen here!” Many a people have heard that before.
An attempt to tell this story was finally brought to the big screen this April via a movie called, “The Promise“. Of course detractors rose to 1 star the movie on a massive scale. Upon the initial three screenings, 70k+ reviews – impossible when you consider the limitations of seating – were posted on IMDB. The Turks still are gunning for us even online.
“All I know is that we were in about a 900-seat house with a real ovation at the end, and then you see almost 100,000 people who claim the movie isn’t any good,”
How many more fucking people have to be slaughtered after being disarmed till we take the lesson to heart? I am forced to consider those who support radical gun control measures – regardless of reason or excuse – with the same potential level of threat that the Turks behind the 1915 genocide wrought upon us.
My Armenian ancestors who were disarmed, disposed, and then sent into deserts to die when they weren’t slaughtered enmasse in their villages and on the way to death are yet again forgotten. In fact, their slaughter is still a point of great contention and denial to the Turks and Azerbaijanis who stole our land, subjugated, and conquered us many times over just the last 500 years. (Note, Azerbaijan was even a country until 1918.)
The US is still afraid to press the issue as it won’t risk losing Turkey as a Nato ally. Yet again, our Armenian people catch the bad end of geographic diplomacy, not to mention an actual border war still being fought with Azerbaijan over land that has been ours for a thousand years. Again, we are isolated with no assured backup.
“Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, Turkey’s president, publicly vowed on Sunday to support Azerbaijan “to the end”. Turkey has no diplomatic relations with Armenia, a rift dating back to the mass killings of Armenians by Turks towards the close of the Ottoman period. Erdoğan is also at daggers drawn with Russia over its support for the Syrian regime and Turkey’s shooting down last autumn of a Russian combat plane but he is unlikely to intervene militarily.”
Still, we are resourceful people determined to survive. My great grandfather Tarpinian made his way to the US. He began a family when he saw a picture of my great grandmother in an orphanage where she had been saved from rape and death by the Turks. Upon seeing this picture he sent her letters and eventually a wedding dress. They would be married with few possessions, but love and a determination to survive and live for those had been killed in the genocide.
My great grandmother actually came over illegally. She entered the US via Buffalo, New York from Canada. Four generations later, our family is all over the states and we are assimilated Americans who love our heritage and people, but are loyal to this country which gave us hope, safety, and a reason to live.
I am a 4th generation descendant. Half-Armenian and a mix of other European heritage. If there’s anything I’ve learned from the history of both sides of my family, its that government can not be trusted to necessarily protect us, let alone slaughter us. You never know when your enemy will take the reigns of power.
While the old government may have been neutral, if you have been disarmed of your rights and your weapons, you are at a great risk. Never again. I will repeat it; I am forced to consider those who support radical gun control measures with the same potential level of threat that the 1915 genocide wrought upon us.
Supporters of gun control mean well. History however never does when it comes to the victims. Don’t let yourself even become a potential victim. Learn from our genocide. At the very least, targeted groups in the future will stand a chance of defending themselves and their family. Just look at what insurgents have done in Iraq and Afghanistan have done with Ak-47s.
A few weeks back, I attended the rather family friendly music and entertainment fest known as “Summerfest” in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Me, my best friend Tim, and one of our other friends Bill all drove up together to “enjoy” the fest and the insane price of beer which averages 8$ for a splendid cup of piss-water domestics such as Miller Lite. We had several hours to kill before we would see “A Day To Remember” and “Linkin Park”
Before A Day To Remember started, a rather terrible band by the name of “PLP MVR” began to play – my guess is that they won a contest to open up for what was rather a large crowd in the Marcus Amphitheater on the summerfest grounds.
Me, Tim, Bill and several other people all joined in making pointed jabs at how bad the band was. I overheard one guy near us remark, “This is like a bad trip from shrooms without the shrooms.” He was of course quite correct. The band was literally dressed up in costumes that resembled “furries” and the drummer looked like Barf from Mel Brooks classic parody, “Spaceballs.”
Now this is necessary to disclose: if I’m honest, I have a loud mouth, am outspoken, and sarcastic.
No, this isn’t a bad thing, and I fully embrace this part of my personality and utilize it – it gets me laid. Unbeknownst to me, a large and fat tall man about two benches down was fuming and I didn’t see the steam pouring from his ears.
Instantly a giant of a man – about 6.2 or 6.3 was out of his seat in what seemed to be slow motion and suddenly was winding up his fist to take a swing in my direction. My best friend Tim managed to put himself in between the beast – who was at least two times my size – and myself. I’m lucky, because I frozen. No warning, nothing. He hadn’t said anything to me or Tim and Bill, so there had been no indication that he was angry.
I froze like a piece of ice in -30 degree weather.
I would have taken several punches before my instincts of getting away would have kicked in. (More on that later. It was then and there, I decided I was going to have to de-escalate the situation and it meant that I was going to have to essentially beg for mercy. I did.
“I’m sorry man, you’re right, you are right!!!
“You are Right!”
I pumped this phrase out multiple times in under a minute and it seemed to get him to back down after the first initial, “You little punk ass bitch.” (Note that’s all I remember of the insults he managed to spew. That and something about beating my ass.) Somehow, I was consciously aware that I didn’t want my best friend taking punches to the face for me, nor for our other friend Bill right besides me to have the same happen to him.
Note, this is basic placation on my part and you’d be surprised how many people’s ego you can stroke and in the meantime the bombs you can defuse by uttering the phrase, “You are right”. On some sub-conscious level, hearing that from a perceived opponent makes us feel victorious.
If you don’t already know, I’m one of those “lover not a fighter” types. Also, remember, this guy is at least twice my size.
When situations have gotten “dangerous”, I’ve always been able to evade possible brutes by the fact that I’m simply much faster, nimbler, quicker, and in better shape in my 5 foot 7 body. Luckily, I have more aggressive physical friends who are willing to get in trouble with the law to fight off guys they consider to be picking on me; someone who is usually “not my size.” Note, those specific friends WERE NOT THERE.
My pride was somewhat thrashed, but my face was intact. That’s actually a big deal, because my face is my moneymaker and what has allowed me to land girls with my game still needing plenty of work.
Minutes later, the thought continued to roar through my head…
Why didn’t I quickly bounce off my seat and dart away?
I’m fast, quick, and agile. I pride myself on it.
Why I had been frozen stiff like a piece of cardboard?
The amphitheater benches around us had plenty of room for me to jump off my seat and simply jump step from one bench to another and eventually down to security in the lower deck area and the various police on duty for the event.
Now in my defense, I really wanted to see both of these bands – specifically Linkin Park who I had never experienced live. I didn’t want to take a chance in us getting kicked out and I prefer to avoid contact with the police whenever possible. (Insert my half middle-eastern identity politics card right here.) I now believe I showed the proper discretion in apologizing profusely and preventing an actual all out brawl between this guy and the three of us.
Chances are, we would have all been kicked out and it would have been my fault considering it was my loud mouth that essentially kickstarted the entire debacle. The price of the tickets, gas, ect would not have been the only issue, but taking off work, and finding another time and date the bands were coming through would have caused me to hurt the night my friends had anxiously anticipated for weeks now..
Later the next day, I mentioned this experience to Tim’s cousin Justin who is also both of our best friends; the three of us are like brothers. (All three of us have known each other for over 15 years as well as having lived together.)
(1) Justin mentioned that he can remember at least one time, I essentially dissed some girl – easier to do then you realize – in a bar and two of her male friends were about to white knight and beat the shit out of me. Again, luckily for me Justin and two of his more physical friends were there who have a reputation in the town and those two white knights backed down. (2) In fact, I can recall another time where a friend of mine mentioned that my loud mouth at a bar was attracting the attention of at least one guy who looked like he wanted to fight me. He pointed this out later that night, and I was again completely oblivious to it.
Confession: I haven’t been in a physical fight since first grade. I was THAT sheltered. Or if you look at court costs, tickets, and fines these days perhaps I was that wise and mature. Either way, I don’t know how to defend myself besides “legging” it.
Lacking “Flight or Fight” Instincts
This all caused me to realize I have a glaring deficiency; I dont have strong instincts. I didn’t see that guy coming at all, nor was I aware of the white knights who were looking to beat my ass.
What happens if my friends aren’t there one of these times? I’m a rather outspoken person when conversations occur, and at some point, it will land me in trouble, because I won’t back down from what I say, I’ll just hightail it away. Now, while I’ve shot some firearms and I fervently watch the UFC, I have no real idea how to throw a proper punch or how to defend myself, so I count on my quickness and speed to get myself out of dangerous situations. In this case none of that matter; I was essentially blindsided and oblivious to him until his fist was raised and I noticed Tim was in front of me. I was frozen stiff and only was then suddenly registering what was about to happen. .
What use is my speed and quickness to avoid punches if I wasn’t able to see them coming? Take note that the guy was (1) two benches down from me (2) had to climb up towards me (3) at his easily bulging 350+ pounds he was probably much slower then me considering just how obese he was.
It took this experience to show me this and it’s one I won’t forget anytime soon. Any man should know how to defend himself and have the instincts to do it – especially considering that I want a wife and kids – so I better know and be able to protect them.
As one astute commenter pointed out, “Isn’t fight-or-flight the accepted response to danger to one’s physical wellbeing? In the case of being surprised by a angry boar or a potential mugger, I’m not sure “tend-or-befriend” are a valid fundamental dichotomy.” I faced a walking fat bear, and I was definitely surprised.
(4) Pyschology Today suggested in “Is Our Survival Instinct Failing Us?” that the instinct doesn’t even work well in modern warfare and again dealt with “stress.” (5) Calm Clinic again addressed stress, but emphasized exercise as a way to cope with anxiety. It did however bring up the point that we face a “lack of dangers”, which perhaps suggest that this is an issue of training.
Quintus Curtius in his masterful book, “Thirty Seven: Essays On Life, Wisdom, And Masculinity”, addresses the idea of training and education for young men in chapter seven of the book by drawing on Italian humanist and literal Renaissance man, Pier Paolo Vergerio, for inspiration. Quintus sums up Vergerio’s points regarding the issue of training and education with 27 points, three of which are pertinent to what happened to me.
11. The finest studies for leadership are those based on arms (military) and letters (history, philosophy, languages, and rhetoric). Everyone wants to be learned in old age, but to achieve this one must start early and exert “zealous effort.” Being learned in letters and arms will provide a remedy against “sloth” and solace in the face of worry and stress.
16. The training of the body is of paramount importance. It should be conditioned from a young age for rigorous service, military ability, and endurance. Young men should be hardened from a young age to endure pain and discomfort of all sorts , so that they are not broken by the strains of life and struggle. They should also be taught to “dare great things.” The Cretans and Spartans valued hunting, running, wrestling, and jumping, and sought ways to train themselves to endure hunger, thirst, cold, and heat. Luxuries weaken the mind and body.
19. Since battle tactics are constantly changing, a forward thinking youth will attempt to master the martial arts and self-defense arts of his day. This should include mastery of weaponry, personal combat skills , horsemanship, and movement over rugged terrain carrying heavy loads or equipment. There are many different kinds of combat. “For things are done one way in a melee; another when the decision rests on a battle formation; another when there is an infantry charge, and another when combat takes the form of a duel.”
Unfortunately, I was never taught martial arts, tactics, or any training of the body. I won’t make the same mistake with my kids however.
#RaceTogether is a minefield filled with short-tempered caffeine deprived customers who consider the concept of patience to be hate-speech rather then a virtue. Then throw in some barbed wired and machine gun nests known as the smart-phone.
Every one has a smart phone these days that can record any conversation – a blessing and a curse. It’s a foregone conclusion that any actual honest dialogue can take place between groups of extremely racially sensitive people. Your words are a tweet away from being broadcast to the dark corners of tumblr dwelling other-kins and SJWs who haven’t forget that people with dissenting opinions are actual humans. Davis Aurini makes a good point about this:
That is just the obvious hindrance. The actual primary problem is that people view this entire idea as less of a conversation and more of a, “I’m mad at your kind of people for these reasons,” lecture. Actual dialogue on a subject so controversial can’t take place in any public setting as you could lose your job.
In fact, it doesn’t actually matter if you are what society considers to be a “racist” or any one of the “ists” these days. Once accused in the public eye – or rather the social media feed – you are guilty until proven innocent which means you are forever guilty on a basic Google search.
Perhaps Schultz has been preparing his guinea pigs for these kinds of experiments all along and actually intends to scare off some of his already well-off liberal white types who spend 3k+ on Starbucks a year. After all, how many flak barrages intended to induce white self-loathing can these types endure?
Schultz’s idea will create friendly fire situations and the casualties will be his own fellow ideologues. Think about it, how many of the intended targets – backwater redneck conservative stereotypes – actually frequent Starbucks who aren’t actively boycotting it? That was a rhetorical question.
Despite the backlash and drubbing coming from various sides of the spectrum , some of the mainstream media consider this a great idea. Time Magazine actually proclaimed #RaceTogether as a “brilliant” and “bold move” rather then a kamikaze mission in which allies will have their eco friendly cars sunk. No, this doesn’t make me happy, it makes me sad.
What about the dialogue?
An honest conversation about race will only occur (1) between friends & family with liquor involved and the smartphones put away and (2) when people stop seeing every last damn thing through a racial lens – namely SJWs and many on the left who base their entire identity off race rather then the actual person.
Remember, vast generalizations and labels of people based on their race, ethnicity, and gender are perfectly acceptable as long as it’s the right people. Being judged based on who you are is just too tiresome and isn’t convenient for being a part of the continual victim club.