Why I love my White Trash neighbors
I love my White Trash neighbors!
Actually, they are not neighbors in the traditional over-the-white-picket-fence manner of acquaintance…they are more like interlopers. The matriarch, who is a White Trash specimen herself, is my true neighbor but apparently her daughter, son-in-law and their 3 children must have found themselves economic casualties of our tanking economy so now they are all living in that small apartment. All 6 goddamn of them. Loud, they take up space with their bloated and overextended armada of cars, an RV, a cargo trucks and an SUV. They never turn the community light out in the morning and they always leave the door open. In a laughable gesture of SWPLness, my neighbor has a Japanese-style rule governing her home so she crafted a hand-written sign which hangs on her front door. “Leave your shoes outside” and sketched below are some pretty good composites of footwear. Talented in a White Trashy way.
I love my White Trash neighbors because they are like the only white people for miles around. You see, this neighborhood, this city, is like 98% Mexican. OK. Maybe an exaggeration but it seems that way. I’m Mexican and I would go crazy if I had to see Mexicans all day long, so I break it up by working in the predominantly white entertainment industry. I get my white fix for 9 hours, come home to the ocean of Brown that swims past my windows. And see, the white people I work with are the archetypal white folk who are assuredly not trash. They have delicate sensibilities and they eat the right thing, shop at the right places, watch the right entertainment. Everything about the white people I interact with during the day is right. Right! No sir, I could never live with beaners all day long. So it’s kind of cool that there are 6 white people nearby my apartment, composing about 90% of all white residents of the city of East Los Angeles. And here is the funny thing: if you’re white and you live in East L.A….you’re probably White Trash by definition. This is the unfortunate side effect of belonging to a cherished racial group…you must live a life others expect you to or you’re bascially slumming it. You’re trash, and you’re instantly suspect and elicit shameful disdain from the elites.
The mere existence of a phrase like “white trash” instantly insinuates that whites are inherently above trash as a group. By default, white’s are better. Thus the need to clarify when they are in fact trash. A white person living in my neighborhood is trash because they don’t see fit to do the proper thing and live on the Westside or even in Downey which is a nearby community that seems to have lots of White Trash and even not-so-trashy white people. So if you’re white and live in East L.A., you’re trash; if you’re one of the multitude of Mexicans, hey, you’re just Mexican, no need to clarify with the “trash” add-on. There is no “brown trash” quantifier. If you’re Mexican in this town, you are automatically trash and being that no Mexican can be thought of surpassing that by nature, they are assumed as a group to roundly fit the trash conditions. So you can stand me next to my White Trash neighbors and as such, we are essentially equals. They are underachieving for their race, and even though I am (I would think) over-achieving for mine, I still live in this shithole because it’s cheap and convenient for work and family.
White Trash is awesome because they help me realize that mediocrity and low standards can afflict any color. More intriguing than educated and high-achieving Blacks or Mexicans who manage to infiltrate Anglo society, are the unmotivated and utterly mediocre Anglos who manage to fall into the pit of black or brown inconsequential hell. White Trash is cool because they speak proper English with no accents and they don’t dress or act like apes, but in some cases, they do look like white apes. My neighbors sorta fit that. They have a physiognomy which is strikingly inhuman and thus goes a long way in explaining their inability to cross the cultural divide into the glittery world of white sensibilities where they belong.
They prefer to loiter here among the land of the brown folk in complacent innocuousness.
I love white trash.