Paul Kersey, American Renaissance, June 13, 2014

Every weekday for two weeks–from June 9 to June 20–we are running essays by race-realist commentators on the future of American race relations. Specifically, we have asked them to imagine what America will be like 20 years from now. The ten contributors to the series, whom we will publish in alphabetical order, are:

John Derbyshire, Paul Gottfried, Gregory Hood, Joseph Kay, Paul Kersey, Tom Kuhmann, Gavin McInnes, Fred Reed, Richard Spencer, Jared Taylor.

It is our pleasure to present our fifth contributor, Paul Kersey.

To understand where America is headed, we need only look at one of the commentaries the Old Grey Lady saw fit to publish the day after man successfully set foot on the moon.

A few steps on earth’s natural satellite–one every human eye has looked upon with awe–should have ushered in an era of exploration, scientific achievement, and advancement.

Unfortunately, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin’s steps on the moon on July 20, 1969, were the culmination of the United States of America as a country dedicated to advancing the interests of its founding, majority population. Six years earlier, a young black activist, Medgar Evers, was gunned down in Mississippi. It was his assassination, along with the events in 1963 Birmingham, that saw all moral authority ceded to blacks and their white liberal allies.

That is why the New York Times, on July 21, 1969, asked Evers’s brother Charles to write an editorial giving his opinion on the moon landing. Charles, just elected mayor of Fayette, Mississippi, wrote a roadmap for our country’s future:

As a daring adventure, this exploration of the moon compares with the voyage of Columbus in 1492. There are a lot of similarities. Like our astronauts, Columbus left behind a world crowded with people who didn’t have enough to eat, people who had no decent clothes to put on their backs, people who had no doctor to look after them when they were sick . . . . But there were some things about Columbus’s voyage different from this moon shot. The political leaders who sent Columbus toward a new world made no claim to be concerned about the agony of poverty and deprivation. It didn’t cost Queen Isabella billions of dollars to send her explorers. She didn’t have to take food out of any child’s mouth in order to put Columbus on those leaky old boats. The billions of dollars spent on this moon exploration program mean that it will be even longer before America begins to keep her promises to the poor. America needs to look at the earth, not at space. Before one more dollar is spent on outer space, we must make sure that not one child here on earth goes to a dinner table with no food on it.

Who can argue against such logic, once all moral authority has been ceded to blacks? The Evers piece was published along with contributions from such people as the Dalai Lama, Henry Ford II, Charles Lindbergh, Reinhold Neibuhr, and Isaac Stern. Evers’s roadmap has more closely directed national policy than any other offered by the New York Times that day.

The expansion of welfare, WIC, and EBT/TANF/Food Stamp programs have ensured no dinner table in America is without food every night. We have kept whatever promise to the poor Evers spoke of in his editorial.

In a span of just 66 years, man had gone from Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, to the moon. Forty-five years after that, Detroit–the Arsenal of Democracy–declared the greatest bankruptcy in American history. Two white men walking on the moon, standing on the shoulders of more than 400,000 almost entirely white employees of NASA, are a sharp contrast to the blight of Detroit, which is now 83-percent black.

At the same time, America has gone from a 90-percent white country, at the time of the moon landing, to a nation nearing the moment when whites will become a minority. Though the flag of the United States of America still flies on the surface of the moon, one wonders how much longer it will fly over California, New Mexico, Arizona, and even parts of Texas, where two-thirds of children are non-Anglos.

It was only 66 years after the Wright brothers broke the bonds of earth that men–white men–walked on the moon; only 66 years after this event (two years after the 20-year period I was asked to consider for this essay) how many other American cities will suffer Detroit’s fate?

Long-time black-rights agitator, Harry Belafonte, was quoted in the August 4, 1969, Jet magazine about the Apollo 11 program:

Look what happened: No black commentators, not one Negro sociologist or scientist. One network did show Duke Ellington playing the song he wrote in honor of Apollo 11. It’s like they were saying, ‘Yeah, there’s a black man playing music for whitey to do his important thing by. Keep him in the rhythm section, boys.’

A recent publication of NASA — Social, Cultural, and Educational Legacies: NASA Reflects America’s Changing Opportunities; NASA Impacts US Culture (p. 461) — makes it clear there were almost no minority contributions to the space program before 1972.

No one in a position of power replied to Belafonte’s question with a simple “So what?” Likewise, not one conservative leader pointed out that there were no white people in positions of power when Detroit went into the ditch.

With the successful planting of the American flag on the moon in 1969, white Americans collectively set a standard no other nation has been able to meet. It will serve as our finest hour. Regardless of the demographic breakdown of whatever becomes of the United States of America in 2034, a flag will still stand on the moon as a silent vigil to a people’s true potential.

It will silently mock whatever America becomes in 2034.