Here is the premise of the book, in a nutshell (words mine): "Hi, I'm Nathan McCall. I grew up in the ghetto, man. I was a thug, yo. White boys should know better than to ride their bikes through MY turf! I was real gangsta back in the day. Me and my buddies gang-raped a 13-year-girl a while back. I got away with it but served three years in prison for robbery. Damn the system! I impregnated several women and ditched them, 'cuz I'm a playa like that. All this happened because I got a raw deal out of life, and hated myself. And all that is whitey's fault!" Need I say more? Makes ME wanna holler indeed!
He does make some valid points about the very real problems facing the black community, and how life in the ghetto really is tough, but apparently fails to realize that his racist, misogynistic, cowardly, callous, and coldly unrepentant attitude is part of the problem, not the solution. He hurts his cause far more than he helps it. The death of personal responsibility is one of the biggest problems in this country, affecting every race, and this rag just fans the flames. Worse than even the worst "gangsta" rap song. He shows absolutely zero remorse or even sympathy for his rape victim. And he expects sympathy for a parasite like himself? Gimme a break. This book was apparently intended to show what is wrong with America. How ironic that it does exactly that, but not in a way the author would find flattering.
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