Monday, October 7, 2013

It's Whitey's Fault Blacks Are So Unhappy (But It's Black People's Fault That We're Not Stating It Clearly Enough)*

Except for white people who put their stuff online for consumption and critique - politicians, journalists, bloggers, cultists, artists, etc. - there is no white person on the planet that can say The Crack Emcee follows them around, "correcting" what they say, or that I have anything more than a casual, passing interest in white people's lives (as "white people's lives") at all. Back-in-the-day, sure - my recordings reveal that - but not since I started TMR. I've fought racism (without making it my deal) in whichever direction it flew, and there is an abundance of evidence to back me up.

I, on the other hand, have a virtual army of white people who seem to have made it their duty to make sure I don't get (or am capable of spreading) the wrong ideas. If I do, they speak up - not only to "correct" me but, I guess, to let me know they're there. They monitor my "progress" as a conservative and a black, by following me around the web, reminding me of what their interpretation is or was, of whatever they think I once said, sometime. (That's even hard to write, much less, think.)

Interesting crowd, these guys - and they're all guys. They take what I write and - rather than deal with what I write or ask why I wrote it as I did - they trumpet their assumptions that, based on conventional wisdom, they KNOW why I wrote it and by God it's ______. 

Yet they know me so well!

Right now, see, I'M obsessed with race. ME. That's been told to me over and over - what I'M doing - and it has to stop. 

This has never been a "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" situation at all. And there are no very-real cultish, tribal, moving, evolving racial dynamics at play in this country for TMR to finally deal with now. No, no, no. I've been hiding my true intentions all along. You know, like white people "speak in code" (wink). 

So now, finally, I'm coming clean - get ready:

It was The Crack Emcee who shot Trayvon Martin - and I did it because I'M obsessed with wanting to get this conversation going (and as a way for ME to chase all the evil, money-donating white people from TMR - right as my spine got hurt - just before I could fulfill my not-hardly-long-awaited dream of debuting some of my new music) - and it's worked spectacularly.

I want to ask everyone reading this who's white - do you have your own personal NSA? Your own mini-counter-propaganda organs? It's flattering.

But it's also a bit like I'm still living in France, where every time I said "Hi" to an arab, the whispering would start amongst the whites. "What is he up to?" They never let up the pressure, either, or understood my dastardly intentions, no matter how many times I explained them. I'll tell you guys what they were, now, because (in hindsight) they're kinda funny:

The arabs I spoke to usually A) had a food stand or small restaurant that was open outside of the French's pre-prescribed hours for eating B) seemed to be happy Americans don't get hungry "on time" C) appreciated that arab food is a good and spicy fast food change from something slathered in white sauce that'll give me food poisoning, again, and D) that I liked a conversational environment where I didn't feel like I'd be kidnapped during the Iraq War.

Bullshit. That couldn't be it. Not according to the white French. They had their assumptions and they were sticking to them, spreading them to anybody else in the village who'd listen. And some of those, occasionally, pulled me aside "as a friend" - totally out of the blue - to offer "advice" about how to deal with all the commotion I'd caused. Me. 

Because I got a snack.

I ask you, white people, does any of this sound like a person being allowed to live a "normal" life, to you?

On behalf of TMR - the project I have to respond to the nonsense that plagues us, black and white - I would highly suggest to you, the answer is "NO" and all I'm doing, now, is everything in my power to prove it...

*Ain't it great how - if the title opens with "Whitey" immediately - the blog's numbers go up?

That's my fault, too.

Me and my damned obsessions,...

1 comment:

  1. But they are only trying to cure you of your obsessions; only trying to help...

    And white fraternities are different from gangs, just remember that. (sorry, for some reason this post brought up memories)


    Big question though is: were you spiritually inside George Zimmerman? Or was it more like being the pixie on his shoulder type of thing? Or did you finally do the Otherkin, because that too would make sense completely?