STUCK ON STUPID

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STUCK ON STUPID

 

 

Niggas are coming out of the woodpile to bash our President and the First Lady.  Those sellouts know that the only way to obtain any form of national recognition requires that they bash their own.

 

The tradition of selling out ones’ own people exist in every culture, in every part of the world.  But I don’t live in those other places.  I live in the greatest country in the world and unfortunately America has produced some of the best sellouts the world has ever known. 

 

That fool in the video stated GOD made it possible for blacks to come to the promise land through slavery.  He compared the middle passage to the inconvenience of flying coach as opposed to travel by first class! 

 

My dear readers, I have never claimed to be a scholar of the black holocaust but I do know that the trip from the Motherland to the west led to the death of untold thousands of Afrikans because of the deplorable conditions they had to withstand, during the journey; being thrown overboard or by honorable suicide by drowning themselves off the shores of the new land.

 

Cultural Psychosis

Black people have developed an insidious self hatred that pervades every aspect of our very way of life.  We have allowed others to implant a doubt that gnaws at our psyches.  We secretly loath ourselves and behave in ways that defy common sense and negatively impact our lives.  This insanity is evidenced anywhere in the world where there are people of Afrikan origin. 

 

Black on black homicide is the major cause of our deaths in American communities.  In South America and India the darker skinned inhabitants are subject to the severest forms of treatment.  In Afrika, blacks willfully murder each other because of tribal and religious affiliations.

 

When I was a child, in the second or third grade, I was asked to draw a family scene.  My father had just built a sandbox in our backyard for my brothers and myself.  I drew a picture that depicted me, my father, mother and two brothers in our backyard.  I had 8 crayons and used the brown one to color in my family.  When the teacher picked up my picture and shared it with the class, the other children - who were mostly black - laughed at me for drawing my family chocolate brown.  That was in the early sixties. 
 

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In 2005, Kiri Davis interviewed young black children to determine if this issue, that was prevalent in the fifties, existed in the 21st century.  To young Ms. Davis’ dismay, 15 of the 21 children overwhelmingly chose the white dolls - who were identical in every aspect EXCEPT color - over the brown dolls.  The children saw the white dolls as “nice” but the black doll was characterized as “bad”!

 

  

The Normal Minority

My father was a dark skinned man.  I remember as a very young child, sitting in his lap and kissing him all over his face because he looked so “pretty” on a very rare occasion when he shaved off his mustache.   As an adult, I have always characterized my father as the better looking parent of the two and I have maintained this fact unabashedly, over the years.  I’m sure  my handsome light skinded mother would have agreed that she married a very fine man. 

 

My brothers and I are a good mix between our parents and have been exempt from a lot of the acrimony that too many black children have to deal with for being too dark or too light. 

 

I have a big jones for dark skinned women but am rarely able to have one because I’m not “light enough” or they believe that I could not be interested in them because they are dark chocolate.  Many of them are too emotionally wounded to understand my appreciation of their beauty: a beauty that most Americans refuse or cannot emotionally acknowledge.

 

 

My brothers and I miraculously escaped a lot of the self hate that too may blacks struggle with their entire lives.  We see ourselves as reasonably well adjusted men.  We love ourselves and are able to give love to our women, our families and our friends.  Ironically, that causes many people we encounter to treat us with suspicion and sometimes hostility.  It’s almost as if being reasonalbly well adjusted is perceived by the general population as some sort of character flaw. 

 

 

If Six Were Nine

As a society, we have come to view flawed personalities as normal.  Black people have an expectation that every other black person they encounter is emotionally “fucked up” and if they don’t reveal how fucked up they are, after a few encounters, then they are hiding something.  In the mid twentieth century social scientist discovered over time that deviant behavior becomes incrementally incorporated

into what is perceived as normative society.  As a homogeneous society, we have become so perverted that we now perceive perversion as normalcy and treat “normal” black people with suspicion.  Conversely, we view any type of behavior from people that are “different” from us as novel and attempt to emulate that behavior - especially when it is attributed to white folks - without weighing the moral or intrinsic value of the behavior.

 

The larger society is revealing some things about itself that many black people choose to ignore.  WE view white folks through rose colored glasses, and even in the twenty-first century want to believe that their ice is colder and how they think and feel is superior to our own judgments. 

 

WE STUCK ON STUPID!  We don’t know history and we refuse to objectively evaluate what is right in front of us.  We have the greatest opportunity that black Americans have had in the history of the United States, yet we have already begun our crab in the barrel political discourse.  Every day you can find a “black” person on television condemning some aspect of our political presence or our mores.  There’s a Fox in the hen house and we can’t allow Uncle Ruckus to go in and fetch him for us.  IT’S NATION TIME! 

 

We built this country and we now have the opportunity to properly manage it.  If we fix our eyes back on the prize, we can fix this mess.  After reading this, go stand in the mirror and look at The Prize.  GOD does not make mistakes. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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