The red people were never red, the black never black, the brown never brown, the white never white, the yellow never yellow.
To verify these claims, all anyone had to do was, really, to look at individuals. Observe. Or not look, and instead listen, smell, touch. But no. That would have been too informative.
Stupidity and the will to power over things and to power people into things shaped a prism refracting colors that never were. I say unto you the joy of alert and generous observation was absent in the land.
Skin, that is all. Skin, turned into symbol, symbol into history, history into hell. Red hell, and so on.
What is more, skin of individuals, skin intricately, unpredictably, variously, and I say unto you observably toned, variegated. Skin warmed with life, written by a life, particularized. Skin is never stupid, not to mention of a single color.
The red people were never red, and so on. And so on. And yet history cannot be denied, and if you say we are all the same, you must not say so so you can attempt to deny history.
For the future--remember the future?--shall we be very attuned to variegation? Yes, let's; why not?