The NEW Black Mafia
They don’t wear gloves and they don’t use silencers. Oh, Hellll Noooooo!
Noisy, gloveless verbal homicide is their staple, impressing on witnesses that disagreement garners maximum retaliation. They want to leave their fingerprints the better that you know they said it and they meant it. And, oh by the way, “look for me, you can find me on the Internet, cuz I don’t hide behind no avatar!! King Kong ain’t got shit on ME!!!”
But what did they say?
The Head MF in charge, Cknucklebean and his crew of unhired gigolos cavort around the ‘Net, playing United Slaves to black folks Panthers, or worse. “Bang, bang – you’re dead, muthafucka!! Now, shut the fuck up and wear my black laquered shackles.”
And there they go again, heading for the tower, playing Charles Whitman, playing Lee Harvey Oswald, except like Lee, they aren’t carrying weapons and in fact, they are chess pieces in a larger game they only think they understand. Patsies in another man’s game.
The NB Mafia worry about small details like reality, or the truth? Sheet! Not when there’s another body they can push the steel into. Fortunately, its only a plastic shank, a slim shady trifle.
Really, are black people so “different” that we can’t put down our egos for a commercial break and actually see what part we play in stoking the fire between us? Heal the wounds between us?
I can’t work with you, NB Mafia. Don’t want to, don’t want to talk with you, cuz our love is on a one-way street – which don’t make it love at all. Much as I love Trane, I don’t want to hear no thirty minute solo. I wanna hear McCoy get some, hear, Elvin burnin’ yams in the skillet. These weak ass Filibustas don’t have no draw for me.
I’m putting on my vest for you, NB. You stalk me and my folks harder than the white man. What’s wrong with that picture, Tataglia?!
I got some parmesan for your ass!!
(Hat tip to Lady Christiann Anderson, Negropologist and creator of the term ‘Black Mafia’)