Every safariist is familiar with the twiggy androgynous hipsters that constitute much of Western civilization’s urban native fauna. These peevish herbivores are distinguishable by a complete absence of sexual dimorphism and unmistakable keening when confronted: you’re a fucking white male!
More perceptive zoologists will also note a herd-like social orthodoxy that is counterintuitively cultivated to eschew the appearance of conformity. Observers theorize this mindset holds that if everyone they know is saying the same thing, it must be very novel indeed. And true rebels are forged in the high volumes of repetition.
Though despite (or perhaps because of) their conspicuous virtue plumage, these peacocks often become poultry to the swarthy predators they invite into their habitat. This leads to infuriated demands for demilitarization of rifle-owning rural farm-nazis. Some may recognize this as a not-very-veiled attempt to obliquely defang their cherished “minorities” before another hipster-cock culturally appropriates some stray rounds of diversity.
This is why I often imagine, with what is almost certainly a surfeit of optimism, that more than a few of these historically unique creatures retire from a day of shrieking at racists to secretly yearn for their success. Because no matter how precious your posturing, a civilized life depends on a society of civilized people. No one wants their lattes ruined by arterial blood spray.
All of which is a circuitous route to say I really don’t think effete liberals want the Brazil they think they do.
I’ve never been to Brazil and so will comment only from what I have read buttressed by the personal experiences of people I know who have lived there. And from those sources, I feel sanguine in saying the place is an irredeemable shit-hole that any parent who felt something more than contempt for his children would earnestly wish to avoid for their future.
My thoughts turned to this topic upon reading of that country’s recent declaration of financial disaster. This resulting from the economic strain of a second-world society trying to produce the elaborate Potemkin pageantry of a first-world olympics. It’s much like asking blacks to maintain the amenities of a white western city. An ambitious request to be certain.
Of course economic disaster is only the tip of the favela with the 2016 Rio olympics. There is also the filthy water, which in less polite terminology is sometimes called “urine.” The beaches and waterways there being open reservoirs of sewage, viruses, and bacteria–that is to say, The Smallest Immigrants.
Then there is the crime. Brazil boasts 19 of the world’s 50 most enthusiastically homicidal cities. A national embarrassment that 31 slots fell to foreign competition. Viewing the situation positively, I expect a patriotic murder-surge could reclaim many of these before the next survey. Though bordering states seem just as determined and Brazil only has so many cities to begin with. They’re all nices places to die, but you wouldn’t want to live there.
But it must be conceded that the majority of people in Brazil won’t ever be murdered, even in São Luis. So we can largely dismiss homicide figures as more fascist demagoguery from Donald Trump. What citizens there do face, however, is an oppressive blanket of petty and more-than-petty crime that alters the way people live entirely. Rampant urchin thievery, burglaries, break-ins, car-jacking, and assaults. Most of these activities aren’t even constitutional. Regardless, quality of life is altered dramatically when the perception of crime punctures that threshold from exception to expectation.
A predictable corollary to Brazilian crime is the official response to it. Just as American law enforcement has evolved with its demographics from temperate beat cops wielding dusty truncheons and revolvers into domestic soldiers in full military kit, so has it hardened in response to lawlessness south of the equator. Reports of suspects being beaten while in custody are complimentary to officer restraint in comparison to many other instances involving summary execution.
And while life in Brazil is always on discount, just living is charged at a premium. Housing, cars, clothing, healthcare: all carve ugly gashes into disposable income there. Many Brazilians schedule foreign junkets just for purposes of shopping. Supply chain inefficiency, gross corporate and government bureaucracy, punitive taxes, and native inability to produce mass quality output all contribute to the cost burden. Also, it’s likely that certain protectionist policies do as well. Some things are not worth their cost and some things are (you’re welcome for that tautology).
But the resolutely unmentioned fact is that there is a certain quality of people and culture necessary to produce the preferred shitlib lifestyle. This being one of society’s most unappreciated points. And gaining that appreciation post-mortem has a poor track record of resuscitation.
Then there are the costs of education. Or more accurately, the costs of keeping your children alive through the process. As in America, all parents with means seek out Good Schools. The difference in Brazil is that the options for those are almost exclusively private–and that’s going to cost you dearly also.
The conclusion, offered in these pages often, is that diversity is a luxury good. And when purchased in abundance, budgets are left with little else besides.
I suppose no contemplation of our engineered brown-mustard future would be complete without mentioning Brazil’s almost science-fictional levels of income inequality and corruption. There miles of squalid shanties muscle for rank against thin skirmish lines of luxury high-rises, half crowned with helipads. A feature that wealthy residents will find very convenient indeed when their multitudinous neighbors one day spill out in rage. I really don’t think I’d like to be at a sidewalk cafe enjoying an artisanal cocktail of thyme sprigs and peach bitters at that moment. Fortunately, modern Los Angeles bears no resemblance to that environment whatsoever. But those with a particularly vivid imagination might want to deploy it to envision what life in America may resemble when its population resembles Brazil’s.
Despite their obligatory anti-racist fulminations I almost believe a few libs might possess the same powers of imagination. A similar, perhaps only instinctive, capacity to discern the foundations of their lifestyle. If so, you can wager there is more than one prog sub-conscious responding to their own fucking-white-male and alt-right denunciations with a silent please God let them win.