A Genuine Phony

A significant part of the public, perhaps a majority, has made diversity a fetish. The differences observed and celebrated are superficial. This example lifted from Facebook:

I was assisted in un-sticking my car from a lake of slush by: the guy from Hershfield's with the old-tymey mustache, a whisper-thin Somalian woman, and a Mexican couple. I love my neighborhood!!!

Why is it better that aid was rendered by a rainbow of faces? If this person had been helped by a trio of Nuns as wan and pasty as the writer, would the charity and neighborliness be tainted?

One might legitimately presume from skin, grooming and garb that these Samaritans operated in different subcultures. Their cooperation might be valuable as a study of how those of different traditions found means to work together. I doubt this is what happened. The event was pushing a car out of snow, not a philosophical roundtable, or even a small matter of local politics.

If a group of neo-Nazis had offered to help, would the writer have refused? In context of the event, how would one distinguish Nazis from the several variations of skinheads, punks and rednecks that inhabit Diversityville?

The Samaritans were seen as stereotypes and appreciated as charicatures. It is diversity without meaning. The observation is an exercise in vanity: I am good because I am surrounded by people different from me.

Most of those who worship diversity seem to abhor genuine moral, political or philosophical diversity. There is little room for differences that matter. Diversity that challenges is an affront to self-esteem. Such challenging people are marginalized. That’s the neighborhood where I live.