Not in my lifetime...
I had a good example of why it won’t end in our lifetime.
I live near Boston, and Thursday night my wife and I went into the city to go to a Jazz concert at the new wing of the Isabella Stuart Gardener Museum (The one that had all the art stolen in 1990 valued at $500 million)
Beautiful place. New performing center, four vertical levels with one row of seats all the way around, so you can lean forward and rest your elbows on the rails to look down at the performers)
The concert was a “Tribute to Lena Horne”, and since I love jazz and her music, I thought it would be a great event, they would play all the standards that she did so well, etc.
It was nothing like that. The theme was primarily a racial event about how she suffered and preservered at the hands of white America, breaking down racial and gender barriers, etc.
There was some gasbag dressed in red african brocade with some large linen thing draped over a shoulder (google image african brocade and you can see what it looked like) who started things off, and would come back on-stage at various intervals and read notes from papers in his hand while the piano played in the background. It was much what was expected regarding Lena Horne and her career, white people yelling nasty things at her on stage, being unable to stay in the hotel she performed in, marrying a white man she didn’t love to further her career.
At one point, the gasbag talked about how Lena Horne had a drug and alcohol problem, and comparing her to Whitney Houston, said that it was her family’s fault, her fan’s fault and the country’s fault for putting her on a pedestal that she had trouble staying on. The “she had no choice, society forced her into her addictions” view. My wife and I glanced at each other...yep. No personal responsibility there, no mention of any other performers who managed to NOT become addicts.
But it was partway through one of the gasbag speeches, when I heard the word below shouted: “FIRE!” and an older scraggly looking woman came out onto the stage floor to talk to Mister Gasbag.
I was bordering on alarm, but I figured she was telling the fat gasbag about some issue, we might have to leave, or whatever, so I just watched.
The woman walked up to the guy and began shaking her pointed finger in his face.
I thought, “What the hell is this?” Then she turned around and left. The gasbag said: “We live in a country with a lack of civility, where the most popular man in the world, President Barack Obama, has a sitting congressman calling him a liar, and a governer of a state wagging her finger in his face...”
It wasn’t “FIRE” I had heard, it was “LIAR”, and the whole thing was choreographed in.
I was with my wife, who would not consider it worth making a scene about, but I was steaming. It was all I could do to stay in my seat, and that, for her sake.
Throughout the whole thing there were references to Paul Robeson and Barack Obama, but when the gasbag mentioned Paul Robeson, Eleanor Roosevelt and Barack Obama in the same sentence, that almost did me in.
As I thought about it, I knew I hadn’t vetted the performance. I just assumed it would be music, Lena Horne’s music. But it wasn’t, and I could only blame myself for that.
It won’t happen again, that is for certain. Liberals like to say Obama is “post-racial”, but the truth is, he and his followers are nothing of the sort.
Everything is about race.
I was reminded of a variant of the old saying: To a nail, everything else looks like a hammer.
To people like Obama and his cult of personality followers, everything else looks racist to them. And, because they are so heavily invested in it, there is no way that will change in our lifetime.