Sicario
The Executor
Coming to Reality
Francis Di Paola, American Renaissance, December 4, 2021
This is part of our continuing series of accounts by readers of how they shed the illusions of liberalism and became race realists.
I’m 35, white, and a reader of American Renaissance since around 2014. I live in an East Coast city and work in finance.
A lifelong defender of Darwin, Western science, free speech, and free thinking, I started to think critically about race around age 30, led by life events during my residence in four U.S cities and a few countries, and by books and articles.
When I was growing up, my Dad, a lawyer, made sure that my three siblings and I knew how good we had it in our small, white, East Coast town. When driving to or from family vacations, he made detours into black urban neighborhoods, driving slowly with locked doors, four blond kids with their noses pressed up against the windows staring out, my Mom in the front seat, scared, telling him to drive faster. I can remember a few such tours in New Jersey and in Baltimore; these were the most vividly terrifying moments of my childhood. The black faces we saw staring us down in those ugly, dirty, burned-out, urban ghettos weren’t smiling; and I remember actual waves of fear and dread, the same fear one feels when there is only a thin sheet of protective material between oneself and a wild animal. My Dad showed us this world not only to instill gratitude for the wealth, beauty and safety in our lives, but also to foster a sense of compassion for black people. It had the opposite effect on me, as I remember thinking to myself, “These people are not like us at all! Why would anyone choose to live in these conditions? How can they stand the squalor?” If I had had to live there for an hour as a child, I would have come away emotionally scarred.
Even so, I grew up well-meaning, naïve, gullible, open, and trusting. In middle school, my friends and I listened to hip-hop and generally thought NYC and black people were the coolest thing ever. In early adulthood, I viewed Republicans with contempt: They were obviously bigoted Christian racists who didn’t believe in science or have respect for homosexuality or the environment. I studied anthropology in college, which helped educate me about the history of humanity and how we got to where we are. I’ve lived for a number of years in Asian countries — one intelligent, stable, and peaceful, the other not. I’ve also lived in Central America and in Europe, and I speak a few languages. I mention this only to say that I’m not xenophobic or nationalistic.
I became a race realist slowly. It took me two full years (starting in 2014) before I could even admit to myself that I was “racist.” One event that stood out was reading a National Geographic magazine issue about “100 Scientific Discoveries that Changed the World.” I tallied the discoveries by race. Ninety-four were from white men, one or two were from Middle Easterners and Asians, and a few were group efforts at white-founded universities. Around this time, I drew up a series of questions with simple yes or no answers to ask friends and family about race. Most people declined after hearing a few questions, realizing they couldn’t answer them without breaking social taboos.
BLM also helped start the mental process, after I started reading about black crime in the US (3 percent of the US population – black men ages 15 to35 – have committed about half of all murders every year for more than three decades). I started asking questions and sharing my thoughts, which I learned were not socially palatable. I lost friends, got into heated arguments with family members (some of whom have slowly come to be race realists themselves) and generally learned the hard way that talking about black IQ has negative social consequences. When I speak with friends about race today, I have to remind myself that it took me a long time to admit these things, and that I shouldn’t expect miracles in others’ thinking after five minutes. What I have noticed, though, is that during arguments with non-race realists, they too will let slip that they know black people are relatively stupid, but they are still adamant that there’s “a racist structure holding them back.”
If I’m out on a date and a girl mentions “white supremacy” or that the U.S. has a “white supremacist structure,” I ask for the check and don’t look back. I don’t know anyone, except for liberals, who has ever talked about white people being supreme. Liberals are the only ones with an obsession with white cultural success, and the capacity we allegedly have to suppress without even wanting to. They are the real white supremacists. If a person asks me if I’m a white supremacist, I answer either, “No, I’m an Asian one” or, “By what metric?”
The races of man are different biological subspecies with different genetic characteristics, histories, cultures, and skill sets, all evolved in relative isolation from one another over tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of years. There is a tragic dilemma in concluding that black people in the US are a net negative. I love and admire many black individuals, and there will be ones I meet and love in the future. How do I balance these relationships with my knowledge of racial differences? I’m not against black people. I wish them well. But the time has come for the real conversation to start. A doctor can’t heal a patient by ignoring the nature of the problem and telling reassuring lies while the wound goes on festering. Real compassion is truth.
The current atmosphere of racial animosity in the U.S. and across the world towards white people will not let up until the following is understood:
Francis Di Paola, American Renaissance, December 4, 2021
This is part of our continuing series of accounts by readers of how they shed the illusions of liberalism and became race realists.
I’m 35, white, and a reader of American Renaissance since around 2014. I live in an East Coast city and work in finance.
A lifelong defender of Darwin, Western science, free speech, and free thinking, I started to think critically about race around age 30, led by life events during my residence in four U.S cities and a few countries, and by books and articles.
When I was growing up, my Dad, a lawyer, made sure that my three siblings and I knew how good we had it in our small, white, East Coast town. When driving to or from family vacations, he made detours into black urban neighborhoods, driving slowly with locked doors, four blond kids with their noses pressed up against the windows staring out, my Mom in the front seat, scared, telling him to drive faster. I can remember a few such tours in New Jersey and in Baltimore; these were the most vividly terrifying moments of my childhood. The black faces we saw staring us down in those ugly, dirty, burned-out, urban ghettos weren’t smiling; and I remember actual waves of fear and dread, the same fear one feels when there is only a thin sheet of protective material between oneself and a wild animal. My Dad showed us this world not only to instill gratitude for the wealth, beauty and safety in our lives, but also to foster a sense of compassion for black people. It had the opposite effect on me, as I remember thinking to myself, “These people are not like us at all! Why would anyone choose to live in these conditions? How can they stand the squalor?” If I had had to live there for an hour as a child, I would have come away emotionally scarred.
Even so, I grew up well-meaning, naïve, gullible, open, and trusting. In middle school, my friends and I listened to hip-hop and generally thought NYC and black people were the coolest thing ever. In early adulthood, I viewed Republicans with contempt: They were obviously bigoted Christian racists who didn’t believe in science or have respect for homosexuality or the environment. I studied anthropology in college, which helped educate me about the history of humanity and how we got to where we are. I’ve lived for a number of years in Asian countries — one intelligent, stable, and peaceful, the other not. I’ve also lived in Central America and in Europe, and I speak a few languages. I mention this only to say that I’m not xenophobic or nationalistic.
I became a race realist slowly. It took me two full years (starting in 2014) before I could even admit to myself that I was “racist.” One event that stood out was reading a National Geographic magazine issue about “100 Scientific Discoveries that Changed the World.” I tallied the discoveries by race. Ninety-four were from white men, one or two were from Middle Easterners and Asians, and a few were group efforts at white-founded universities. Around this time, I drew up a series of questions with simple yes or no answers to ask friends and family about race. Most people declined after hearing a few questions, realizing they couldn’t answer them without breaking social taboos.
BLM also helped start the mental process, after I started reading about black crime in the US (3 percent of the US population – black men ages 15 to35 – have committed about half of all murders every year for more than three decades). I started asking questions and sharing my thoughts, which I learned were not socially palatable. I lost friends, got into heated arguments with family members (some of whom have slowly come to be race realists themselves) and generally learned the hard way that talking about black IQ has negative social consequences. When I speak with friends about race today, I have to remind myself that it took me a long time to admit these things, and that I shouldn’t expect miracles in others’ thinking after five minutes. What I have noticed, though, is that during arguments with non-race realists, they too will let slip that they know black people are relatively stupid, but they are still adamant that there’s “a racist structure holding them back.”
If I’m out on a date and a girl mentions “white supremacy” or that the U.S. has a “white supremacist structure,” I ask for the check and don’t look back. I don’t know anyone, except for liberals, who has ever talked about white people being supreme. Liberals are the only ones with an obsession with white cultural success, and the capacity we allegedly have to suppress without even wanting to. They are the real white supremacists. If a person asks me if I’m a white supremacist, I answer either, “No, I’m an Asian one” or, “By what metric?”
The races of man are different biological subspecies with different genetic characteristics, histories, cultures, and skill sets, all evolved in relative isolation from one another over tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of years. There is a tragic dilemma in concluding that black people in the US are a net negative. I love and admire many black individuals, and there will be ones I meet and love in the future. How do I balance these relationships with my knowledge of racial differences? I’m not against black people. I wish them well. But the time has come for the real conversation to start. A doctor can’t heal a patient by ignoring the nature of the problem and telling reassuring lies while the wound goes on festering. Real compassion is truth.
The current atmosphere of racial animosity in the U.S. and across the world towards white people will not let up until the following is understood:
- White people are not to blame for the state of black people anywhere in the world. To suggest that black people have no autonomy (as liberals do) is actually demeaning, infantilizing.
- White people have a right to stand up for their history and culture and have the right to preserve it.
- People are different. The different races — just like every other animal and organism — have evolved and differentiated genetically and culturally in isolation of each other and in different ecosystems.
- Racial quotas in the professions and industry will greatly harm product quality, profit, and the general culture.
- Black people and others need us: we don’t need them. White people gave the world the vast majority of technological, scientific and medical breakthroughs, as well as such things as democracy, human rights, free speech.
- White people owe black people nothing. If anything, black people in the US owe us. Taxpayers have spent over $22 trillion on black people over 60 years. The result is resentment against white people, continued black poverty, high murder statistics, appalling scholastics records, abandoned and dirty cities, broken black families, and government dependency.
- Cultural appropriation goes both ways. If cultural appropriation is bad and should stop, then black people need to stop wearing Nikes (a white product), using electricity or modern hospitals, playing basketball, using eBay and Amazon or the internet, driving cars, etc.
- Liberals are the modern-day plantation masters. Liberals give blacks monthly stipends, put them in free housing, and don’t seem to think they can do anything for themselves. Liberals have handicapped pets: black American Democrats.
- Black Violence Matters.
