Month after month after month, surprising as sunrise, predictable as the value of pi, come the casualty reports documenting racial disaster. Details change. The substance does not. Gangs of American Africans beat whites into brain damage, often rape and sometimes torture, kill policemen, loot stores, burn our cities. Week after week sullen dark faces glare from mug shots. The stories run briefly in the local press and are disappeared.

Woman bludgeoned to death by black male in random attack in laundromat. She called 911, screamed, then went silent. Las Vegas police arrested a black male carrying a bloody sledge hammer. This was thought suspicious, though perhaps police unfairly profile men carrying bloody sledge hammers. He was doubtless a troubled youth who broke under the unbearable torment of white privilege. The woman remains dead.