The limits of preening black pettiness

Black-Heroes-For-Hire-Scratching-The-Black-Panther-Itch

Ta-Nehisi Coates, while not James Baldwin, bests him in many ways, by benefit of better hindsight, even by  reflections  upon Baldwin  himself.  Moreover, and despite the popular misnomer that “hindsight is 20-20,” in reality,  hindsight  is,  far  from  seldom,  a  most  murky,  self-deceiving  sight.  Thence  Coates,  above  all,  bests  Baldwin  at  being  self-serving  and  petty,  to  be  sure,  but  above  all  simply  inaccurate:

 What Kanye West seeks is what Michael Jackson sought — liberation from the dictates of that “we.” . . . West calls his struggle the right to be a “free thinker,” and he is, indeed, championing a kind of freedom—a white freedom, freedom without consequence, freedom without criticism, freedom to be proud and ignorant; freedom to profit off a people in one moment and abandon them in the next; a Stand Your Ground freedom, freedom without responsibility, without hard memory; a Monticello without slavery, a Confederate freedom, the freedom of John C. Calhoun, not the freedom of Harriet Tubman, which calls you to risk your own; not the freedom of Nat Turner, which calls you to give even more, but a conqueror’s freedom, freedom of the strong built on antipathy or indifference to the weak, the freedom of rape buttons, pussy grabbers, and fuck you anyway, bitch; freedom of oil and invisible wars, the freedom of suburbs drawn with red lines, the white freedom of Calabasas.

Point-by-point

  1.  “Kanye  West  seeks  liberation  from  the  dictates  of  we.”  No.  Kanye  is  nothing  but  a  white-culture  mascot  for  black  mediocrity  and  narcissism–whose  black  (ie  feigned)  freedom  requires  insulation  from  criticism,  as  he  uses  the  fake  ‘real  talk’  vibe  to  talk  down  to  other  crabs  in  the  bucket.  (“BUT  HOW  DID  DA  BUCKET  GET  DERE!?  WE’Z  AINT  NEVER  GOTS  NO  BUCKET-TECHNOLOGY,  SO  WE’Z  MORALLY  SUPERIOR!!”…hold  up,  spaz.)  Moreover,  West  is,  like  all  white-culture  mascots,  a  laughable  hypocrite:  “My momma was raised in the era when clean water was only served to the fairer skin,”  West  whimpered  in  New  Slave,  even  as  he  knows  that  the  least  of  his  gluttonous  mother’s  problems  was  not  receiving  enough  allowance  by  white  overlords:  Donda  West,  alike  Rodney  King  and  so  many  mascots hitherto,  died  by  her  own  self-indulgence  and  shit  priorities–which  were  bankrolled  by  her  boring,  beady-brained  boy.  Regardless,  the  beat  goes  on,  and  the  facts  get  hidden,  or  else  laughably  rewritten,  to  let  every  King,  King,  or  King  be  a  hero–no  matter  what  a  worthless  degenerate  they  actually  were.
  2. Speaking  of  pitiful  kings:  “The  ‘king  of  pop’  Michael  Jackson  sought  liberation  from  the  dictates  of  ‘we’.”  No.  Jackson  was  just  a  self-hating,  disloyal  opportunist,  whose  downward  spiral  resulted  in  his  pitiful,  failed  plea  to  stay  relevant  via  edginess  in  1996  with  his  racist  rant  “They Don’t Care About Us,”  and  then  with  Jackson  suing  his  bosses,  alleging  that,  due  to  their  ‘racism’,  they  didn’t  market  him  enough–‘because  he  is  black’–when  his  fans,  having  moved  on  and  grown  up,  were  unmoved  by  ‘the  king  of  pop’  and  his  embarrassingly  titled  album:  Invincible.  Black  mascots  are  nothing  if  not  wholly  without  an  ability  to  accurately  self-assess:  So  a  few  years  later,  Jackson  died  as  he  lived:  Begging  white  people  for  drugs.  Of  course,  with  these  mascots,  it’s  always  someone  else’s  fault.  And  just  like  Donda  West’s  fake  hair,  her  son’s  fake  charisma,  or  MJ’s  fake  face:  Hiding  from  the  truth,  and  blaming  white  people  constantly–never  made  Michael  Jackson  any  less  beaten  by  his  dad  or  molested  by  one  or  more  of  his  brothers.
  3. Stand  Your  Ground  freedom.  Meanwhile,  Peruvian  George  Zimmerman  didn’t  owe  any  reparations  to  violent,  drug-addicted  criminal  Trayvon  Martin–certainly  not  in  the  form  of  not  fighting  back  against  the  feral  black.
  4. “Freedom without responsibility, without hard memory  [is  a  ‘white’  freedom].”  So  how  many  more  thousands  of  black  slave-owners  in  the  colonies  need  to  have  existed,  for  frauds  like  Ta-Nehisi Coates  to  pause  their  petty  pretenses?  And  how  much  more  integral  to  the  transatlantic  slave-trade  must  Africans  slavers  have  been–and  how  much  more  slavery  and  ridiculous  depravity  must  exist  in  modern  African  for  black  mascots  to  drop  the  charade  of  impenetrable  moral  superiority?
  5. “Freedom of suburbs drawn with red lines.”  Plot  twist:  What  if  Redlining  was  never  about  ‘racism’: What  if  the  suburbs  were  always  just  worried  about  blacks  who  hunt  and  dismember  albinos  to  brew  ‘magic  potions’;  blacks  who  rape  babies because  they  think  it  will  cure  their  AIDS;  etc?  Jokes  aside: Sometimes  poverty  and  isolation  causes  crime,  yet  crime  always  causes  poverty  and  isolation.  “BUH  DA  RACIS!!!”…no  one  cares.
  6. “Pussy grabbers.” It  surely  is  a  testament  to  the  death-grip  of  the  Expanded  Plantation  that  so  many  democrat  pets  are  rap-fans  so  willing  to  pretend  that  they  don’t  downright  worship  people  whose  literary  extent  is  to  boast  that  they  can,  to  say  the  least,  grab  pussies.

Chocolate  chicken-littles

The  is  just  an  outline  to  a  larger,  ongoing  story:  Countless  throngs  of  black  frauds,  trapped  as  mascots  for  white-supremacists,  begging  whites  for  relevance,  even  transcendence–by  claiming,  in  various  ways,  that  the  only  reason  they  are  not  already  relevant  or  transcendent  is  because  of  whites  who  are  not  playing  their  cards  rights.  This,  even  as  all  but  every.single.example.ever.given–never  amounts  to  more  than  Sharpton-level  charlatanism.

Twilight  of  the  mentally  and  morally  idle

Regardless  the  eventual  length  of  his  limp  life,  Ta-Nehisi Coates  will  almost  certainly  die  as  he  lived:  A  cowardly,  complicit,  mediocre  mascot–perpetually  failing  to  disprove  Thomas  Jefferson’s  prescient  lamentation:  “Never yet could I find that a black had uttered a thought above the level of plain narration.”

And  so  comes  and  goes  just  another  book-smart  black  buster:  Ta-Nehisi Coates,  whose  magnum  opus  of  cloud-chasing  mentions  that,  before  hearing  Kanye’s  (garbage) music,  he  “would have said ‘Incarcerated Scarfaces’ was the peak of civilization.”  Incarcerated  Scarefaces:  Coates  ‘peak  of  civilization’,  a  boring  1995  brag-anthem  by  Raekwon  of  Wu-tang  Clan–which  contains  the  following  ‘peak  of  civilization’  nonsense:

Knock niggas out the box all the time Bitches know my mothafuckin’ repertoire, big one (Yeah, mothafucka, straight up, I’ll fuck your whole team up) Take care of B.I., Chef.  Fly G.I. niggas

Fake be fronting, hourglass heads niggas be wanting Shutting down your slot, time for pumping Poisonous sting, which thumps up and act chumps Rae’s a heavy generator, but yo, guess who’s the black Trump? Dough be flowing by the hour’s, Wu, we got the collars Scholars, Word Life, peace to Power and my whole unit.

How  about  that?  Coates’  hero  Raekown  was  kind  enough  to  break  from  rhyming  “nigger”  with  “nigger”–and  talking  about  how  he’ll  kill  niggers–so  that  he  could  brag  about  how  he’s  like  Donald  Trump;  which  has,  for  decades,  been  a  popular  thing  among  rappers–until  all  the  leftists  whites,  mulattoes,  and  homosexuals  convinced  all  these  mentally  retarded  black  followers  that  Trump  is  the  greatest  threat  to  peace–in  da  hood  and  in  da  world.  (Word-nerd  Coates  even  took  the  time  to  decry  “Trump’s  ‘muslim’  travel -ban”  (and  decried  Kanye  for  ‘not  knowing  about  it’)–the  travel-ban  that  was  formulated  by  Coates’  half-black  hero  Obama).

From  the  swamps  of  black  self-destruction

And  so  there  springs  up;  among  the  masses  of  black  fraudsters,  addicts,  and  charity-cases;  an  occasional  James  Baldwin,  Martin  Luther  King,  Tariq  Nasheed,  Umar  Johnson,  Michael  Eric  Dyson,  Tupac, Marc  Lamont  Hill,  Barack  Obama,  Ta-Nehisi Coates,  etc–Average  height:  5’7″;  average  IQ: 57.

These  are  the  mediocre  mascots  who  pretend  especially  hard,  and  whose  value  to  the  Expanded  Plantation  is  exactly  that  pretense:  Convincing  countless  desperate  blacks  to  pretend  likewise–pretend  that  if  blacks  fake  hard  enough,  then  somehow,  some  way,  someday  everyone  will  eventually  agree  to  shower  them  with  pity  and  praise–all  the  way  to  blacktopia!

…as  they  frantically  fight,  fool,  and  fuck  each  other  to  death.

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