Which brings me to the latest perturbation, the first-degree separation of National Review from the great John Derbyshire. All John did was to poke some fun and advise young white persons to smile and keep walking when encountering a large group of black people looking for trouble. As he wrote himself, the fact that he’s undergoing chemotherapy had nothing to do with it. Nor was it a suicide note.
He did not mention that after so many years of special remedial treatment under law, many blacks remain outside the bounds of middle-class society. He never referred to the fact that so many even educated blacks seem increasingly remote, hostile, and at times paranoid. And not once did he ask how blacks could be included in American society if they insist on separating themselves from it. As John Vinson wrote in Chronicles:
When the left labels our honest comments and questions as hate, we might reply that truth-telling is hate to those who hate truth. When they denounce our free speech by calling it hate speech, we might reply that free speech is hate speech to those who hate freedom.
Hear, hear! The trouble is that it was NR, not some lefty rag, that got rid of a wonderful and courageous man. NR’s loss is our gain, and that makes me very, very happy.
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