A tribe’s essence may sleep, but it never dies. It may lie dormant, but it will never go extinct.

As new immigrants gain numerical power and ruling class protection in their host nations, the tribal instinct within their second and third generation cousins already in the country is released from its artificial suppression. The few secular liberal minority tokens that equalist leftoids, in a pique of supreme naivete, assume are representative of all of the minority tribe’s people, will recede to nothingness as their half-hearted voices are drowned out by the ululations of their extended family.

To put it more bluntly, that smiling taxi driver praising America will revert with a quickness to the mores and standards of his race as soon as there are enough of his kind in close proximity to safely let his assimilationist mask slip.

 

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