(If We’re Not Going to be Committed) Let’s Get Committed!!
If you’ve ever read this blog, you won’t be unfamiliar with the blog post themes herein.
Themes of the crime, crime being reality – how we can’t seem to see, feel or taste the shackles on our feet.
For all of our vaunted specialness as so-called “survivors” of the brunt of racism/white supremacy,
I submit that survival is not only not enough – it don’t mean shit, that surviving the slave ship, etc, confers no grand, noble right to perpetually evade responsibility for one’s own black self regardless of what the white man did, and is currently, doing to us.
No, transcending this swamp, this immoral OZ would seem RIF, far real-er than asking white folks to save us from the condition they put us in…AGAIN. We don’t need a white man in front of us to know that he injected his syphlitic, bone marrow into our African nature and begat a hybrid, a zebra, a new man, a lost sheep.
Alas, we keep it real in rhetoric only – but with a bangin’ flow – while men with tails and pitchforks plant bountiful crops full’o toxic weaponized waste, bionic green beans and radioactive hog maws.
The only conclusion is that we are addicted to complaining, addicted to outsourcing our liberation to some cigarette-lipped Pinochico, programmed to make the ultimate animal sacrifice to the Messiah – your own frontal lobe.
I don’t blame our three-piece suited exploiters for turning our pockets out; I blame us, not just black folks, but so-called progressives. Hell, I don’t even blame us anymore.
We need this, perhaps, in order to reclaim our humanity. Maybe hitting rock fucking bottom – a depression, nuclear fallout, a race war, concentration camps, chattel slavery – will wake us the fuck up. Meanwhile….this American Life and the beasts who run the show, are dedicated, through miseducation, through the media bread and circus, to the surgical removal of the soul of each citizen – and replacing it with a toaster. And we pick a number and stand in line.
There are no accidents.
The populace has been progressively deadened over the last twenty, thirty years. We used to have four television channels; today we have four hundred. Is that an accident? A sista said a looong time ago: “To understand the intent, look at the affect.” And the affect is our condition, our ignorance, our stupidity, our inertia.
How many political parties can you choose from? And what is the qualitative difference between those two choices? The Beverly Hillbillies in Spanish and a Democrat or a Republican without a dimes bit between them. And lawdy, lawdy, you call that choice.
Obama is GHB, a date rape drug; he intoxicates you, makes you high on the political possibilities. You awaken with empty pockets, your anus and hope bloody and torn. Why did your invest once again, your holiest of holies in another savior?!
America is a drug dealer; as long as you keep buyin’ and identifyin’, you’ll stay heroin-hooked. You needs to go cold turkey, turkey. No wonder we don’t organize, make plans, have grand political gatherings like we did before. Our brains have been and are continuously being short-circuited by TV and corporate Hip Hop. They stole the music, they stole Obama. Anything they set out in front of you is tainted, toxic.
“When you absolutely, positively have to kill every nigga in the room: accept no substitutes”
Jesse wasn’t wrong (though he ain’t shit either); cut that niggas nuts off/what nuts?! and what do you have? No nuts at all. A black eunuch, a walking, talking, word-splitting pragmatist. Though he has not said anything truly progressive – if progressive means moving this country beyond state terrorism, globalization and Third World slavery – you’d be hard pressed to hear any critique of Obama’s policy statements from the zombies.
No, image is everything: a nice looking, articulate brother in a suit, who never demands anything of white folks but their vote, yet demands that the victim’s of his white sponsors shape up or ship out. The only reparations he demands are white votes for him and cornbread for the masses.
To what end?! The perpetuation of the status quo. There ain’t no secret plan that he’ll unfold after the inauguration for you, negro. This nigga is who he says he is. “Are you who they say you are?!
Be real, Negroes. Stand fast, black man. Look critically. Organize locally. Be modest in the change you seek. Take your money out of the system. Barter. Stop eating poison – remember the sicker you are, the fatter their pockets are. Drive less, or sell your damn car if public transpo is cheap. Hell, if we duplicated the Montgomery Bus Boycott – but nationwide – and carpooled for a year, we could take this country ovah!
But how many of you would do it? How many of you would sacrifice a little bit of time, independence and shoe leather – to change the world? We could bring the cabal that runs things to its freckled knees if we had a little ingenuity and a little chutzpah
Leave your car at home, bitches!
Come on ya’ll, let’s get committed!!!