It’s been a while since I’ve written for my blog. Hell, it’s been a while since I’ve written at all. But the non-indictment of the Ohio cops who shot and killed 12-year-old Tamir Rice as well as the peculiar circumstances surrounding the shooting death of Memphis teen Darius Stewart, have pulled me out of my socio-political writing funk. There is no longer a need for me, or any other academics, intellectuals, civil rights activists, preachers, or civic/community leaders within the Black community, to recite all of the names and incidents regarding Blue on Black crime; It is in and off itself exhausting, horrific, and abominable to say the least. Damned the statistics and what opponents of the Black Lives Matter movement are contending; You know the old rhetorical combats they use: “What about Black on Black crime?” “Do what the police tell you to do and you won’t get killed.” “Look at their criminal record or past.” “The police have a hard job. They’ve got families to go home to.” “The media is trying to start a race war to keep our minds off of Isis.” Figgety-fuck all of that.
Sure, we know that proportionally whites out number Blacks and the incidents of Black Americans being criminalized in the U.S. is more than twice the rate of non-colored Americans, but non-Black Americans don’t exist in a neighborhood vacuum of consistent police-patrol as if the Negro is more prone to violence, skulduggery, and societal mischief than their white counterparts. So, with that stated, the aforementioned is the impetus and excuse for the haphazard killing of armed or unarmed Black Americans be they male, female, young, old, threat or not. Again, I say figgety-fuck all of that. Why is it that the uniform of chocolate skin is paraded across the local and national news in death too many times by law enforcement with an excuse and a debate as to why a Black life matters or doesn’t when that Black body is encountered by the very authoritative entity sworn to protect and serve all of America in all of our American cities?
I grew up watching the first, and one of the most successful, reality shows in American television history, Cops, and never once did I witness a shooting of an alleged suspect. At the worst, I was entertained by a good wrestling match between cops and sometimes robbers—the “robbers” being both Black and white, male and female, but never did anyone die even if they were armed. But today, it’s always a killing of people of my hue, people of my ethnic heritage---sometimes “warranted”, but most times not. And the narrative is always disgusting to digest because of both Black and non-Black people trying their best attempt to remain objective and playing Devil’s advocate. We see white liberals trying to be fair, white conservatives are not being balanced, and, in the midst of it all, you have Black activists and social commentators and the cherry-picked PhD toting scholar either acting and speaking as apologists for our wayward brothers and sisters who had the audacity to not cower or “obey” the commands of law enforcement, or as uber-angry ethnocentric microphones of hate and segregation—all the while gaining public notoriety, local or national fame, and getting a little pocket change for speaking engagements and blog hits. I, for one, am disgusted with it all. No longer will I, and hopefully others, become Black intellectual Sambos consoling white Americans and explaining to white America how the consistent and persistent murders of Blacks by Blue cops must be addressed, condemned and eradicated.
The scary thing is that the Black Lives Movement has done an excellent job of keeping the attention on the abuse of authority by many rogue and racist policemen in this nation and even pressuring District Attorneys across the country to either bring up charges or convene grand juries as a means to acquiesce to the demands of the broader (Black) American community and taxpayers, but it seems as if this is often used as a band-aid meant to suffice the moans, groans, and cries of our community. For some reason, and I may be being petty, glib, or paranoid, but I feel like these grand juries seem to only be convened as a pacifier to the Black community, a call to "chill out", but a pacifier is meant only to soothe in the immediate, to suffice for the moment, but it's not even doing that because this racial, if not ethno-specific, pacifier got a rank meat taste to it. And if the pacifier tastes bad, the baby gonna spit it out and keep crying.
So, for me, and for the righteous and awoke "we", are gonna keep hollering until the baby get changed. And, please don't talk about the "race card" because Black Lives being massacred at the hands of law enforcement ain't a game, and even if it is or was we only are "playing the race card", yet America created the game and the card table. America, don't try and find the Negroes with a magical intellect or rhetorical gift to serve as a conduit between white racism and prejudice and the African-American community. Stop trotting out these civil rights ambulance chasing lawyers and activist looking for a crowd, a payday, and airtime. There is no magical Negro that can quiet the voices of our community. There is no intellectual Mammies and Sambos who can console your offspring on college campuses, universities, and at a concert-like panel discussion of the dialogue of Race in America. None of that works anymore. Your "thugs" and "good Negroes" are all alarmed, frustrated, and fed up with it all. And the card game is fixin' to get robbed. Kenny Rogers said it best, "You gotta know when to fold 'em, know when to hold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run." It's time to leave your winnings at the table and concede. These lost lives are an injustice, and like Dr. King said, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." And now, the masses want justice--both any and everywhere.