As part of our new attempts at diversity, here is an excerpt from “Things That Piss Me Off About White People,” the bestselling book by Rubbin’ D. Angelo, an academian who has been leading racial diversity seminars for the past thirty years.
Most of our readers are a little on the uncouth side and we feel her words will serve as an important lesson and hopefully not feel too much like medicine. Take it away, Rubbin’:
Welcome to my new book, “Things That Piss Me Off About White People.” As someone who understands more about race than other white people I feel my book will serve as an important learning tool for people who need it like yourself. As a firm believer in the struggle to spread antiraicist activism I feel the best way to change things is by talking to other white people, most of whom are real jackasses, as you will see.
Throughout, I will refer to what I call BISEOTOWOC People. This refers to Multiracial Individuals of Indeterminate Gender and it stands for Black, Indigenous or Something Else Other Than White, Of Color. Some consider this nomenclature too complex. They prefer some simpler term such as People of Color or simply Non-Honkies. I accept this terminology but I must use my own. After all, I spent a lot of time thinking it up. I don’t refer to Asian people too much in my work. This is because they are not downtrodden enough for my taste.
And I will bravely attest to my own racism. I will give examples to highlight my racism, and believe me there are plenty of them. I will not hide behind my Italian-ness. I will not allow the Italians to escape. Italians, quite frankly are white people, no matter what they may say about it.
I apologize for not referring to persons of indeterminate gender by the proper pronouns. I simply don’t have the time for it. My work in Racialized Diversified Training keeps me far too busy to worry about other things like Transgender Education.
For a person of an academic background, I may occasionally seem a little glib and vague. You may find it surprising that I refer to Michel Foucault as “Michelle,” as if he were a girl. What kind of academic doesn’t bother to pronounce French names properly? Again, I don’t have time for such things. I do, however, have time for plenty of seminars, and you can attend them for a reasonably low cost. The idea that a white person can fully understand our country’s racial dynamic without attending one of my seminars is frankly utterly laughable.
It might surprise you to know Black people hate white progressives more than they hate the Klan. But they do. I know this, because I have talked to several Black people and even worked with one or two. The other day a colleague of mine who happens to be Black was walking down the hallway at the university where I work. “Hey Jan,” I said, “is it true you hate white liberals like me?”
“Uh sure,” she said, “whatever you say.” Then she slammed the door and ran away rather quickly. But the point is, she agreed with me. As someone who has worked around such Black academians for thirty years, I feel uniquely qualified to speak on racial matters in a way that other white people aren’t.
I know from talking to Black people that they really hate it when a smiling white person comes up.
Let me give you one example of how Racial History informs our daily lives. The other day I was in the produce section at the Whole Foods Market, trying to decide on whether to buy iceberg or romaine lettuce, when I saw a middle aged Black man approaching. What should I do in such a situation? The usual white progressive response is to smile and act friendly. This is how the white progressive proves he or she is a friendly, nice person, and not racist at all. But I know Black people really hate this. On the other hand, I don’t want to act bitter and unfriendly either, because that is how the Klan would act. So what do I do? I shrieked in horror and threw my iceberg lettuce into the air, and then I ran away to my car and drove off. I’m sure the man was quite satisfied by my response. At least I didn’t smile at him. As you can see, life at the Whole Foods Market or the university is a minefield of racialized dynamics. I was unable to determine which of the two lettuce choices, iceberg or romaine, would be the less racist choice. But that is an issue I can easily leave for another day. The important thing is that I made an oppressed Black man happy by not speaking to him.
You may find it surprising I hate woke people so much. Gee, you say, I thought you were pretty woke yourself. Well, fuck you buddy, that’s all I can say in response. My time as a diversity seminar planner gives me the courage to say things like that.
You may also wonder why I spend so much time generalizing about white people. Maybe you expect me to spend more time on the antiracist activism and a little less time on generalizing. Well, I don’t just generalize about white people. I also spend a lot of time explaining why I generalize about white people. Chapters upon chapters in fact. You can’t justify your generalizing without a lot of history, slightly vague history.
Before we go any farther, let me ask you a few simple questions to determine if you are a racist: Do you live in a racialized neighborhood? Like, a really bad one? Why the hell not?
Are all your kids white? I thought so. Do you own a two car garage? Mmm hmm. Is your mother white? Also not surprising.
Do you listen to country music? Do you enjoy R&B? Really? I thought not.
Can you dance? If so, why not?
Are you Irish?
Things that characterize white people: Having a sense of humor. Not having a sense of humor. Other racial groups unfortunately are not allowed to make these choices. The next time you enjoy an amusing joke, remember that your every chuckle is coated in the blood of centuries of oppression. Not so funny now, is it?
Throughout my work I present examples of shocking racial injustice in our time in order to prove how little white people have changed. For instance, I was recently a guest on a podcast in Florida, where I had traveled to do yet another diversity seminar. Afterwards, a white person called up to comment on my appearance on the show. The things he said were so shocking that I was rocked back on my heels in breathless stunned amazement.
“I would like to disrespectfully disagree with some of things you said,” his words went. “My name is Brad and I feel myself to be a nonracist person and I feel that some of your arguments were specious.”
Let’s think about this for a moment. This man holds no degrees in racial management training. This guy had absolutely no training in diversity seminars. He’d never even taken a class in racial diversity. Yet he thinks he can call up a person who’s spent the last thirty years doing racial seminars and reading articles in academic journals and disagree with ME, the great Rubbin D. Angelo? Can you believe the nerve of this son of a bitch? Can you believe this asshole? Can you? I wanted to throw up on him.
If you enjoy my work, you should really get the audiobook. That way you can hear me read my work in the proper indignant and hectoring tone. Bye for now, got to go to another training seminar.
