When you live in or near the ghetto, you can’t help but notice the fact that family life is nothing like it is out in Honkyville. Dave Chappelle used to do a bit on how his limo driver took him through the ghetto once and he saw a baby on the street corner selling weed at one in the morning. What made it funny is the truth of it. In the ghetto, you will see little kids running around at all hours. Seeing an unattended toddler standing on the corner is not ridiculous. I once saw a little kid standing next to a running car, without an adult in sight.
Father’s Day around here is always a bit amusing to me because I imagine the black guys all looking for a place to hide, not entirely sure which kid is technically theirs and which baby momma is looking for them. It’s terrible of me, but I blame Maury Povich for making me cynical about these things. That and the black illegitimacy rate in America is 75%. In the ghetto it is 100%. It’s why today the local grocery store is staffed entirely by black people. The whites and Hispanics took the day off for dear old dad, but the blacks have no reason to take off. It’s just another Sunday.
It wasn’t always this way. Black illegitimacy was at 12% before the Civil Rights Movement. Social justice and the welfare state destroyed the black family. By the mid-60’s illegitimacy among blacks was in the 40’s and then exploded with the introduction of recreational drug use by our betters. In the ghetto, black people don’t have any concept of fatherhood because no one grew up with a father. Often, the mothers don’t even know who it was that knocked them up so the biological father does not even have a name. It’s as if the women were impregnated by ghosts. The black underclass is entirely matriarchal.
Hispanics have similar trouble, but they have gone a different way with illegitimacy. All the blather about Hispanics being culturally conservative ignores the fact that 53% of Hispanic babies are born to unwed mothers. The difference here is that Hispanic males are not invisible. They stick around and try to take a role in child raising. They may not marry their baby-momma, but they at least make a token effort to take care of the babies. There’s still a shame component that compels even the most delinquent male to pretend to be a responsible father. How long that last is anyone’s guess.
The underclass honkies are a lot like the Hispanics in that regard. Dwayne may not have bothered to marry Brandy when he knocked her up, but little Randy will grow up knowing Dwayne is his daddy. My hunch is this is just a carryover effect from when American culture served the needs of the lower classes by enforcing basic rules of conduct. There are still some poor whites around who remember when you did the right thing, but my guess is in a generation or two Randy will never know Dwayne, as Brandy will never bother to tell him, assuming she knows who knocked her up.
Jerry Springer Nation is the end point for all of it.
It doesn’t have to be this way, of course. In fact, the current conditions are an anomaly in America. This is a new problem created by our betters over the last couple of generations. Bored with the post-war prosperity of the 50’s, they decided to experiment on the poor by blowing apart the traditional institutions that gave some structure to the lower classes. Most were condemned to a life of poverty by the fact that nature does not dispense her gifts equally. Some in every generation, born with the right stuff, managed to climb out of the under-class.
That’s nearly impossible now. Kids coming out of the tough neighborhoods in American cities never learn the basics of behaving in a civilized society. The school don’t bother teaching them much of anything. With no useful role models, even kids with something on the ball are condemned to life in the urban reservation. For boys that means crime and then the cemetery if they are lucky. The unlucky head off to prison. The girls are just baby mills and a conduit to send tax dollars into the ghetto so white liberals can feel special.
There’s never been a time when poverty was fun. It was always hard, but the promise of America was always that even the poorest had hope. “Behave, do the right thing, work hard and anyone can grow up to be president.” That promise has been rescinded by the black-hearted sadists who rule over us. In the future, the robot historians will puzzle over why Americans did not rise up and hang the bastards long before they could do so much damage. Every time I ride through the ghetto, I wonder the same thing.