On Saturday mornings, I go out for a coffee at the donut shop and spend a an hour reading the Interwebs, e-mail, twitter, etc. The shop is owned by Indians (dot not feather) and my guess is they originally came from the northeast of the subcontinent. Their English is good enough to further suggest they come from a higher caste or maybe even spent time in the US as students.
After the donut shop, I head over to the dry cleaner to drop off and pickup. I have no interest in pressing my shirts and trousers so I have outsourced this task for thirty year at least. The dry cleaner is run by a nice Korean lady who speaks very poor English. I’ve picked up some words and phrases from her, but my Korean is strictly for entertainment value. We do our business in broken English.
I then stop at the Spanish market next door and get a coffee. My Spanish is good enough to get by so this gives me a chance to practice a bit, but the people running it speak Mam, which is a Mayan dialect so Spanish is their second language. It makes for an interesting fifteen minutes. The people from that part of the world are a happy people so they enjoy my efforts.
Then it is off to the McDonalds to pick up my regular. I have hot cakes and sausage most Saturdays as a reward for remaining on the sunny side the grass for another week. The McDonalds is staffed by blacks from the neighborhood so that means they speak their brand of ghetto. I speak some ghetto, but only enough to follow popular hip-hop songs. The menu is an amusing mix of Spanish and English. The customers are mostly old white people marking time.
Polyglot, multi-racial and multicultural cities are not a new thing in human history. New York City was America’s first melting pot. The early settlement by the Dutch was a trading port and had a little from each category of humanity. Greater New York had a slave trade with the last slaves being freed in 1827 so even the horrible crime thinkers from the Cavalier side of the family were represented.
Most Americans live in traditional American societies, but this is rapidly going away, while places like New York and San Francisco are becoming mono-cultural. When in the suburbs, I’m surprised by how quickly the old white English speaking world is being washed away. Retail stores are all run by foreigners. Labor is mostly Spanish. The foreign youth adopt the habits of ghetto youth creating a weird blended youth culture that will be “American” culture in a generation.
It’s comforting to think that the people will rise up and put an end to this, but that horse left the barn a generation ago. The time to put a halt to the invasion was in the 1980’s when they passed their last immigration bill. The anointing of Paul Ryan and (most likely) Marco Rubio means the war is over. The battles left to be fought are rear guard actions and the normal mopping up after one side wins and the other is vanquished.
I’m often asked why I live where I live, but the fact is I’m living in the future. If you are a young person today thinking you will live your parent’s life in a white suburb, you’re going to be very disappointed. Your world will be one where you are just another minority in a polyglot, fractured culture that largely depends on a coercive custodial state to maintain order.
The definition of success in a fractured jumble of a world will have nothing to do with social status or economic success in the traditional sense. Being a high status Mam speaker can mean nothing to the ghetto speakers next door or the Koreans down the block. How could it? The Mam speaker will have no way to transmit to the Korean why he believes having a large noisy muffler on his truck is a big deal.
Similarly, financial success will be a zero sum game. It pretty much is now as we have been in a no-growth economic order for decades. The Mam will get relatively rich by beating the Koreans at exploiting the ghetto for government cash. Clannishness will be a pretty good group survival strategy so the Irish will finally have a shot to be something other than the lyrical nitwits of the Anglosphere.
Otherwise, the future is the Babel I see on my Saturday morning. That’s appropriate given the people mostly responsible for it. There’s a generation or two, maybe or three, to secure a place within the emerging cloud cities, but at some point they blow the bridges and close the gates. Plan accordingly is my advice to the young.
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