I was studying in Scandinavia at the height of the refugee crisis and barely made it out alive. I wasn’t chased down the streets by gangs of Allahu Ackbaring Muslims or anything like that, and on the surface level you might look around the streets and be like “yeah everything is obviously fine here, probably the whole ‘no-go zones’ thing is an boogieman invented by the right-wing media to play well to smooth-brained Anglos who’ve never left their own country,” but lurking just below the surface was an extreme danger that nobody ever discusses. You see, as an extremely racist and dim-witted person, I go into anaphylactic shock whenever I see a non-white person. Well, I say “anaphylactic shock,” but what I mean is I poop myself and cry. It was harrowing. Many of my best trousers didn’t make it out of there.