If whites are around, and there's a way to never leave the womb, take it
I've always loved George Stinney Jr's face. It's as good a blend of Don't-You-Dare-Believe-In-Democracy and Of-Course-Whites-Will-Try-To-Kill-Obama as anyone can imagine. At 14 years old, George was the Place-The-Name-Of-Any-Screwed-Over-Black of his day, with whites offering their eternal rationalizations for why he had to die 70 years ago (just as they have many, at the ready today, for why blacks have to die and reparations won't be paid). Of course George was innocent, with whites railroading him to the grave, but never mind - this is America. That's the whole rigged game, made for their comfort and enjoyment.
Whites stole my purpose for living on October 25th, 2005, and the feeling's just deepened since then: that there's nothing this place stands for but destroying black's dreams and then more of the same, so whatever. Enjoy yourselves, white people. You win.
It's written all over little George's face - and I probably would've been a much happier camper if it'd been etched on mine at 14, too,...
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