Friday, July 19, 2019

GO BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM

When I was a child someone told me to go back where I came from, that I did not belong, and people like me should not have a voice. He was of course a fine upstanding Christian with good conservative values. In the last several years before I left Holland and returned to the United States, that happened a few more times. It happened again within months of coming back to The States, and has happened several score of times since then.

Almost always fine upstanding Christians with good conservative values.

Apparently I do not belong in their universe.

Well, whatever.



I am the descendant of people who landed on these shores in 1630. Both parents served in World War Two. Both grandfathers fought on our side in World War One. I was born in the United States. My parents were U.S. citizens, by birth.

But, um, I have an accent.

In both Dutch and English I sound kind of snooty. It's what you might call a Den Haag twang, softly mellowed by the Flemish 'g'. It gets worse around Saint Patrick's Day, when it irritates the spit out of fifth and sixth generation pillocks. Yeah, don't know how that happens, honestly, no idea!


If you have the papers that show that you are legally here, then for legal purposes you are where you belong. If you're a congress woman, you belong in congress, irritating the spit out of entitled pillocks.


Suggesting that someone should go back where they belong, for several reasons, is one of the most offensive things to my ear. I don't know why, maybe it's because the people who say it are always such scoundrels, or maybe it's because they're horrid pillocks. Whatever it is, I hope their businesses fail, their cattle get the murrain, their children are caught with their hands in the cookie jar, their barn burns down, their wife catches the clap, and their sons accidentally shoot their willies off while hunting.


Mabaho tulad ng mga 'elderberries'!



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