Congratulations on Fucking Your Back Up with Racism!

There’s a lot of good ways to hurt yourself. Doing yard work for an elderly neighbor, trying to burn down a pedophile’s house, diving into a shark pool to save a baby on a floating raft.  They’re all totally valid.  Yours is a little less so.

See, you hate minorities.  Doesn’t matter what kind of minority they are, really.  Could be white, black, Chinese, Milanese, Viennese.  If they’re not in the majority of whatever area you’re in at any given moment, you cannot fucking stand them.  God damn chuzwuzzlers.

So today, while in the Australian outback (not to be confused with the Outback Steakhouse chain) you’re going to happen upon a young white man wandering around the desert alone on a “walkabout,” where he’ll periodically take shrooms and stumble about at random, not dying with occasional assistance from aborigines.  Knowing that the land he’s in is predominantly Koori, you’ll immediately set about him with the “race truncheon” that you carry at all times.

You’ll beat him and beat him well, blood streaming down his face just as thoroughly as the sweat will stream down yours.  After fifteen minutes he’ll  be softly weeping and muttering “coyote” at you again and again as he tries to figure out just what the fuck has happened to him.  But the real tragedy will be you, or more specifically your lumbar region.  It’ll be devastated by the exertions you’ve made.  Muscles will be aching and the bones within your back will feel like they were never correctly aligned to start with.  You’ll wipe tears away from your eyes as you bite your lip and shake your fist at god.

“Why did you make me so racist if you planned to do this to me every time I beat a minority so badly that they can no longer walk?” you’ll mutter under your breath.

God will not respond.

The young man you beat will cry softly.

“Fucking white people,” you’ll murmur as you stroke your back.

The irony will be lost on you.

Congratulations on Fucking Up Your Back with Racism!