The Immigration Crisis

...and its most beautiful solution.

This is something leftists all knew until class consciousness got replaced with the false enlightenment of social justice. Immigrants are not the enemy, but disruptive mass immigration is one of the enemy’s weapons. When a large group of us (remember — I’m an immigrant) move into a place, we will change it no matter whether we want to or not. This is even more true if the communities into which we move have already begun to fall apart through cultural erosion or economic damage.

The tiny ancient village in which I live, named for the iron-rich springs which burst through its hills, is having an immigration crisis.

Well, no. Not really. Not like what you think. There will be no riots on the three tiny streets here, nor on the two kilometers of the main road which passes through here on its way to Germany. No one will be breaking the windows of its only business just next door to my house, a tavern whose only menu item is a raw steak served alongside a scorching hot stone upon which you’re to cook that steak. No one will be breaking up the gravestones in the tiny churchyard — where the bones and ashes of the eight root families of this village are interred — to use as projectiles against police.

No. There will be no violence, or protests, or even anything more than a few muttered words and a look of deep, resigned sadness. But it’s a deep crisis nevertheless, and I’m part of it.