White on White Spite, The Gentrification of America

By S. Cornelius West

On January 6th, 2021 the United States Capitol was overtaken not by an outside threat against it's borders but by it's own citizens.  The White House security and staff made attempts to stave off the onslaught brought on by American insurrectionists but it was to no avail. Eventually, the rioters would have their way by looting, vandalizing and trespassing on hundreds of square feet of the Capitol.  The total victim count was just over 145 with 5 deaths and 140 injured in the debacle while lawmakers among other politicians and officials were evacuated or hidden until the riot was over. An event such as this taking place in this day and age where technology affords anyone the power to record and share what happened in seconds makes it virtually impossible to deny one's involvement.

 

Author S. Cornelius West leads the reader of White on White Spite, The Gentrification of America down paths connected to timeless open streams of thought where you will see yourself in each chapter if you will open your mind. Each section builds upon the previous sections where open ended solutions are revealed. White America is at a pivotal crossroad where they must decide to continue with White Supremacy or evolve into something more. The problem with evolution is the constant change that disrupts comfort for something better in the future. West shows how White Supremacy is rooted in Greed, Deception and Thievery and there is no honor among thieves. White America is being divided in multiple ways based on value systems created from survival forging new connections unforeseen. White on White Spite is Family Feud at its finest a sibling rivalry that can end in many ways.

 

Will this Family Feud end White Supremacy replacing it with something utopian, sublime or something far more sinister? Will Karma rear its head and expose something that's been looming covertly in the background exposing secrets for the world to see?

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. Cornelius West
• Release date: Apr 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393036883

Book preview

WHITE

ON WHITE SPITE

The Gentrification of America

BY

S. Cornelius West 

WHITE ON WHITE SPITE, The Gentrification of America 

Copyright ©2021 by Steve West and Janven Yugen

Group

All Rights Reserved

Chief Editor: Tayyab Nasir

Book Cover Designed by: Tayyar Majeed

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written consent of the Janven Yugen Group. [e-mail]

Janven Yugen Group 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank all the people who helped with the cover art and editing as well as others who participated in think tanks that sparked thought and planted additional seeds for this book. If I offend anyone with my opinions or word placement, please forgive me as I am observing life with both eyes and ears open. Last but not least, I would like to thank the Highest for allowing me to complete this project. Without divine intervention, I would never have made this project a success. To anyone who has a dream of being a writer or a dream about being more than what you are using your resources and finding a mentor. Have faith and walk toward what you hope will happen and what you need will meet you along the way. I’d like to dedicate this book to the memory of James Bailey Rest in Paradise.  

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1: WHITE PEOPLE 

CHAPTER 2: ACTING WHITE

CHAPTER 3: IS BEING BORN RACIST OR WHITE SUPREMACIST A POSSIBILITY? 

CHAPTER 4: THE EVOLUTION OF THE WHITE

SUPREMACIST WITHIN WHITE SUPREMACY

CHAPTER 5: WHITE LIE/S

CHAPTER 6: CHARADES 

CHAPTER 7: HUMAN NATURE

CHAPTER 8: ATROPHY

CHAPTER 9: TAXATION 

CHAPTER 10: WHITE WEALTH, WHITE CURRENCY, WHITE TAX

CHAPTER 11: TRUMP THE TRUMPET PART 1

CHAPTER 12: JAMES MADISON

CHAPTER 13: WHY YOU ALL AGGIE? 

CHAPTER 14: BARABBAS

CHAPTER 15: CONSERVATIVES, CONSERVATISM & MORE ISMS

CHAPTER 16: BASED ON EXTREMES 

CHAPTER 17: POWER TO THE PEOPLE

CHAPTER 18: CRYPTO RISE, DOLLAR FALL, COVID COMPLIANCE 

CHAPTER 19: CAN’T KNOCK THE HUSTLE

CHAPTER 20: FINANCIAL WARFARE

CHAPTER 21: REDLINING 

CHAPTER 22: CAPITALISM

CHAPTER 23: HEGEMONY 

CHAPTER 24: CAPITALISM

CHAPTER 25: XENOPHOBIA

CHAPTER 26: FASCISM

CHAPTER 27: HAVE YOU SEEN THE TERMINATOR

CHAPTER 28: THE ART OF CONFUSION

CHAPTER 29: NEW NEIGHBORS, NEW NEIGHBORHOOD

CHAPTER 30: HUNTER & JOE BIDEN 

CHAPTER 31: THE OUTSIDERS

CHAPTER 32: STAGING 

CHAPTER 33: MACHINE GUN KELLY & EMINEM 

CHAPTER 34: ECONOMY & ECOSYSTEM

CHAPTER 35: WE GOT SOME SINS IN COMMON

CHAPTER 36: SPARE THE ROD SPOIL THE CHILD MAKE A NARCISSIST

CHAPTER 37: ARNOLD EHRET 

CHAPTER 38: A SLAVE BY ANY OTHER NAME 

CHAPTER 39: CONVERTING TO SLAVERY

CHAPTER 40: THIS COULD’VE ALL BEEN AVOIDED

CHAPTER 41: HOW CAN THE POOR & MIDDLE-CLASS WHITES PREPARE FOR WHAT LIES AHEAD? 

CHAPTER 42: AVIDYA, SUNYA & THE KLESHAS 

CHAPTER 43: THE MYSTERY OF INIQUITY

CHAPTER 44: TRUMP THE TRUMPET PART 2

CHAPTER 45: FREDO & MICHAEL

CHAPTER 46: UCC

SUMMARY

DEDICATION

PROLOGUE

I’ve never really liked being light skin. In fact, I hated growing up because the majority of my family had a darker complexion. I always felt left out. You can tell I am related to my family members once you look at us and see the features we share. I love my family and I would find myself rooting for them if they found themselves in a conflict. My introduction to racial differences began when my uncle Larry West would make jokes about me being light calling me a little white boy. I never thought anything of it because he made jokes about anything all the time.  The second time I was judged by my color was when a girl I liked described me as a light skin dude who didn’t act light skin. She would always say, You light skin but you don’t act light skin, though. We’d laugh about it and keep talking about different stuff. I would walk home and wonder what she meant. Was she trying to rag on me or was it a compliment? Later I found out that being light skin could help you out of certain situations as it was closer to white skin. By that time, I noticed how the well-off blacks moved away from our hood and became chummy with whites. This was because they had more in common with them.  I wondered what would happen if the wealthy whites would find themselves rubbing elbows with wealthy blacks since the reverse was happening already.  Would this cause a riff between those whites who felt they had been abandoned? 

––––––––

INTRODUCTION

In my mind, if you have come across this book, I have accomplished one of my goals. I don’t take it lightly as this is a testament that dreams do come true with perseverance and discipline. This is my first book but it won’t be my last. I was nervous about writing this book in the beginning. The concepts were coming to me in flashes like a lightning storm. I had to decode these images before I really understood what they meant. These flashes came at random times in no chronological order, making it tough to explain to others. This in essence made the process of writing and editing the book take longer than I thought. What would my coworkers say once the book is released? I pondered over these things and for these reasons I procrastinated. Who was I to write about whiteness, white people, or white supremacy? They didn’t ask to come here yet they were born. Imagine being born to slave owners and that being the family business. This is your livelihood, but you hate it. I am extremely empathetic. I’d start then stop. Wondering will all the whites in my family think I’m racist? Will they think I am pre-judging them? They know me better than that. As for the others who read this book who may never get to meet me in person. I hope all white people, not just racists or White Supremacists, get what I’m saying and take it as a message of love. I had no confidence in the arena of writing as a full-time author. You will probably find tons of misspelled words and poor grammatical errors. For all of you, literary specialists cut me some slack. This was not a Facebook Post or an Instagram share with hashtags. This is an actual book where punctuation and other things are expected of me. If that’s not horrifying enough, try finding research to back up all the crazy flashes of imagery of possible futures of America for all the scholarly people who will read this book’s bibliography with a judgmental eye. Talk about pressure. This is pressure. However, I was placed on the path of the people, leading to the places, and given the things I needed to convey the message of this book. 

I have no clue as to why I got the thoughts for this book nor do I try to explain it. All I can say is that I mean no malice or ill intent. These are simply observations of the past and what may come to the future of America. This book is about white people. Not a manifesto, just something to help certain white people see where they are on the Chess board of Life. You see, we all have situations that have expiration dates attached to them. Death and taxes are a few. With death, we cannot be late. We will always be on time for our death. I just want to help you with the changes that are coming in the days ahead. Read this book with an open mind and lean on logic you will need for the adjustments you must make in the years to come. America is a melting pot of many different ethnicities with white people being in a unique position in 2021 based on many factors. I will speak about these factors in detail where you will have no doubt as to why you needed this book. I suggest you follow each chapter in chronological order as you will have time to soak in the details of the exercises you will find peppered in certain sections.

Thank you for your support. 

CHAPTER 1

WHITE PEOPLE 

I grew up watching Leave It to Beaver on Nickelodeon; it was a great show that aired at night. It was my first conscious introduction to white life from the perspective of people I could possibly know. The show was about a white middle-class family living in a suburban neighborhood. I couldn’t wait to watch Leave It to Beaver for its great writing; each scene is carefully scripted with a plot always ending with a great message that could be applied to your own life. It showed the American dream in action with Ward working a job that allowed him to be home by dinner time. June was Ward’s lovely wife, pretty enough to be a model, yet she handled all the domestic duties of the household. Their two sons were Beaver and Wally, Wally being the oldest of the two. They were pretty decent kids except when Wally’s friend Eddie would come around with his mischievous ideas. Any or all of these schemes of Eddie’s would land Beaver, Wally, or Beaver and Wally in trouble. Ward would have to have a long talk with the boys in their bedroom, usually after supper, to explain the lesson that must be learned from their deeds. I don’t think I have ever heard Ward raise his voice; he may have made a face to show disappointment, but I never heard him yell. This led me to believe that most white families lived this way. How could you hate Beaver? There’s no way you could, in my opinion.

My grandmother introduced me to Soap Operas at a young age; this showed white people in a different light. Living lavish lifestyles while carrying on affairs portrayed through steamy scenes is not safe for daytime television, but I didn’t mind. The cliffhangers were endless; they always left you waiting for the next episode, finding yourself taking the side of the ones you thought should prevail. Laced with deceit, so passionate that you’d sit through the commercials in anticipation of foul play. The fun thing is finding something appealing about the assailant as well as the victim putting yourself on the scene. Being so emotionally charged until you are ready to react at a moment’s notice. But you couldn’t; you lived where you lived. In my case, my life wasn’t anywhere close to the lifestyle of these cast members. Most of these shows had minorities sprinkled through the set playing ongoing characters while most of the characters were white. Cars, clothes, and jewelry, it was all there, in all the scenes. As I watched my Aunt say, That’s that old money, she laughed to herself and continued with chores around my grandmother’s house. I’d visit other aunts and my other grandmother, and they’d all say things like shh be quiet, I’m trying to watch my stories. Sounds silly now, but this is still the way certain people spend their afternoon posted up in front of their device, soaking it all in. Other shows with a predominantly white cast that I loved were Tool Time, The Andy Griffith Show, and I could go on. Most of my favorite sitcoms showed white middle-class families. My relatives watched shows like Dallas and Beverly Hillbillies, which revealed how the rich or upper class lived.

I grew to love other shows with mainly white cast members, such as Married with Children, where Al Bundy and his wife Peg were a middle-class family working to make ends meet. Their two children were basic children who had regular problems; I thought this was a great idea since Al was a former football player who never lived out his potential and forced to become a shoe salesman to make ends meet. Not all white people were rich on TV and the more I looked into it, I found that whites and blacks were very similar. They both want to make a living; they both want to maximize their dreams. In fact, most white people often acted kind when they were with you in a one-on-one setting. 

So, where did the division come from? Why do some white people hate anyone who isn’t white? I’ve heard all sorts of stories, from top to bottom. I have had white help me; I don’t know if it’s because I’m light skin as some of my family members would claim or what. I know all white people aren’t racist, no matter what anyone says. I used to hear certain people speak about the white man being the devil. I look at myself in the mirror and think if white people are the devil, what am I? I’m not dark-skinned. Does that mean I’m not melanized? Am I doomed? I think there are good white people and bad white people and you must choose between the two. I have seen whites march with the

Black Lives Matter protestors and stand in solidarity, and I didn’t march not one time. Again, I do believe whites benefit from White Supremacy even if they are not racist. As Eddie showed us in his Saturday Night Live skit White Like Me where he was disguised as a White Man, he was able to show some of the privileges white people are blessed with. I would like to propose to you that there is a very different America that is divided by class, values, and political parties. There are whites who march with Black Lives Matter and whites who never would, whites who are Republicans and whites who are Democrats and also whites who are rich and whites who are poor. I will go as far as to add an additional set of white people who made me part of the list. These are Whites who belong in one or more groups but are connected based on similar values they possess. Religion can be a value system that connects some whites while it separates others. Atheism can be a belief system that bonds some whites as well as anarchy. In the near future, whites will be forced into connecting based on values; this will lead to the additional connections of whites with other races who hold the same values. Some of these bonds will be publicly deployed, and some won’t be, but the truth is that white America is as divided as it’s ever been; this will be the new norm. 

In 2011, I decided to take a trip to Chicago; it was a yearly thing I’d do around Christmas. I’d drive up to stay in a hotel and drive right back. I love downtown Chicago, especially Michigan Avenue, around all the restaurants and department stores. You name it, they’ve got it; this was a site to see all the diverse people from all walks of life. It always reminded me of New York or Los Angeles because of the melting pot vibes I got. You could feel it in the air at any given time, culture all around along with the brisk breeze coming off of Lake Michigan. My van was in 2001 and it was in 2010. I brought it from a shop here paid a lot. It was silver and low-key. I wasn’t going to get any looks from the ladies in it, but it kept me warm in the winter and cool in the summer. To be honest, I got it because police profile minorities more frequently, and they seem to never ever pull people over who were driving vans. Well, this time, on the way back, I stopped for gas in a small town in the middle of nowhere. I turned the car off, and to my dismay, the car never came back on again. I wasn’t far from my destination, so that was good, but I was still too far from my destination if that makes sense!? It was cold. I had stuff in the back, and I had a contract job to get back to, or else I would’ve been let go. This town was so small that they closed everything down at dusk. The white filling station attendant was patient with me for as long as he could before politely urging me to get my vehicle towed because I was blocking one of only 4 pumps. 

The sun was going down, and I had to think

quickly, so I used one of my roadside assistance calls to get a tow. A white tow truck driver came and picked my van up. I hopped in the passenger side and we drove to a mechanic shop on the other side of town. He reminded me of John Goodman with freckles and ginger hair. We talked; he was very cordial as he told me about the four-wheelers he couldn’t wait to put in the mud. We got to the mechanic shop, and there was not one, not two, but five mechanics. You guessed it; they were all white males. I hadn’t seen a person of color yet, and I had been in the town for a few hours now. The mechanic told me he would let me know as soon as he could. I thanked him, and I walked off not knowing where exactly but as if I wasn’t traumatized. I needed to find the nearest hotel, something cheap but clean enough to allow a good night’s rest. The hotel I found was a privately owned place within walking distance from the mechanic shop, and all of the attendants at the hotel were Mexican, but it was owned by people from India. I wasn’t complaining; I was more worried about the state of my vehicle and how I was going to get back to work or back home for that matter. The hotel did not have an internet area. I had poor receptions, probably because of the size of the town and limited towers. I was told that McDonald’s had Wi-Fi, so I went to McD’s for a snack and Wi-Fi. I called relatives, letting them know where I was, and asked them to pray, and they did. 

After I got off the phone, I was met by a Micronesian young lady who was sitting a few tables across from where I was eating, and she said hello, and we engaged in conversation. She too had no internet and needed a hotspot as well; so, there we were. She let me know about the town and how small she felt it was in size and mindset, as well as the opinion of the town’s nightlife, which was basically nonexistent. I left her at McD’s, and she gave me hope that things might work out for me after our conversation full of laughs. At

Walmart, I hadn’t seen anything but white people from top to bottom. Everyone was super nice, making sure I was ok. By the way, everyone working at McDonald’s was white also. 

I got a call from the mechanic shop, and he dropped the news on me that I had a severed serpentine belt. If you know anything about cars, the one thing that is crucial to the vehicle’s performance is the serpentine belt. It affects so many things in so many ways that it must be preserved at all costs. Oh, and it costs a pretty penny to be replaced. If it is not replaced perfectly, it can throw the vehicle’s equilibrium off, causing other problems. I didn’t have the expertise to fix it myself, nor did I have the money to get it fixed in my pocket. I needed to get back home so I could go to work so I could make money so I could pay to get my van fixed. Talk about rock and hard places. I returned to the mechanic shop the next morning to talk to the head mechanic to come up with some sort of plan. In the mechanic shop, I met a white couple. Unbeknownst to me, they were listening to the mechanic, and I bounce ideas about my situation, and they told me they wanted to help me. They had been recovering alcoholics who won the lottery and gave their lives to Christ. The wife told me how she knew all about hardships and how she was once poor and addicted to other substances they wouldn’t name before she got her blessing. The couple looked to be around 40 years young or so, and by the style of their black leather jackets, it seemed like at some point in their lives, they liked to party. Here I was in the middle of nowhere about to get some help from some white people I had never met before. They offered to drive me back to St. Louis and help me get my car fixed, and this would cost me nothing. I really had no choice; it was either take them up on their offer or see if the kitchen of the hotel I staying in needed some dishes washed. I grabbed what I could out of my van, and off I went with them to their building where they were rehabbing. We hung out there and talked about their marriage and how they attribute their new lives to accepting Jesus in their lives. They told me they had an Audi that was fixed by the same mechanic sop, and they needed to see how it would run. A small sports car that was a two-seat convertible, but we made it work. I was in no position to complain or be picky. They brought me to my doorstep and told me they would help me any way they could. They told me