Official "Phil Anselmo is a c*nt" Thread

I sat there on my couch rewatching Anselmo spew this racist bullshit and I immediately thought of the minority Pantera fans in that crowd that had to hear that, turn around, shuffle through the crowd and hope the frontman’s hate speech didn’t make a dozen other lowlifes feel like they had the license to fuck with any brown person they saw walking to their car. I’d like to think most Pantera fans at this show, especially in a city as diverse as LA, would be repulsed by Anselmo’s actions. But you can never be sure. And as a black person outnumbered in a sea of white males amped up on aggressive music and whatever else, that kind of thing is always in the back of my mind, even when I don’t want to admit it.

I grew up in Orange County going to punk and metal shows. My father was a professor of African-American studies at Cal State Fullerton for decades. I grew up studying black history and culture intensively prior to college. Yet sometimes all the knowledge and pride about my people’s history felt like a curse while growing up in a place where none of it seemed to be reflected in the world around me. I spent a lot of time feeling angry about that, like an outsider in my nearly all-white community. And through my teens, the only forms of music that really reflected the anger I felt were punk and metal. The music became an outlet—whether I was playing my bass, blaring music through my headphones, or going to shows. It was music meant for outcasts, a club I felt like I belonged to.

Yet even within that community, it was apparent that at any time, at backyard parties or crowded shows where I was alone or with a small group of people, the tune could change instantly if someone decided to single me out. And it did happen. The first time a couple of racist dudes run up on you in a mosh pit and seriously try to harm you solely because of what you look like, the memory stays with you. Same with the second time. And the third. After a while, eyes in the back of your head become just another accessory I would put on before going to a show. Watching Anselmo’s clip definitely triggered those memories.

It’s just reality—you can choose to let it intimidate you or not. I refuse to let intimidation dissuade me from going to any metal or punk show because for the most part I’ve gotten more acceptance from white people (or any race for that matter) in either of these scenes than I could’ve ever asked for growing up. And the majority of the time I wouldn’t know who the racists in the club were because they would never dare let it be known in public or to say anything to my face. For that reason, Anselmo’s apology afterwards feels like an even bigger insult—to my intelligence.