“Laying low with a bottle, I’m blowing circles. My state of mind purple.”
I’m laying low in the cut as usual, like a lion lying in the brush peeping everything in his proximity. I just ate so I may let you pass. But if you disrespect, I’m on that ass. Blunted.
Speaking of blunted, why is there like a national shortage of Russian Cream Backwoods? You gotta go to Seb’nleb’n or a smoke shop for a consistent stockpile. This is the part where I insert a shameless plug for ShopRite Liquors of Englewood. Their Backwoods prices are the best in town. But I’m not able to get there on the regular. I live with the white folks in Somewhere, Bergen County. But even my local shop has been running low lately. And I’m quite certain I’m the one buying half their merch. Shit, I even went online like fvck it, I’m a cop a box from a wholesaler. I went on every site Google suggested in the search. Every site is sold out of Russian Cream. (Sighs) Sweet Aromatics it is.
I hate to be that guy, but COVID is back on the rise around much of the country, including New York (and NY is on the cusp of the return of indoor dining). I was in Crispy Crust yesterday for a couple slices when another patron came in with no mask on. I looked at that nucca like he had three herpes bumps on his bottom lip. I did a quick Temptations slide step to the right and tried not to stare at that cotton-picking Negro. My right leg almost started shaking. I woulda shanked him if I had a banger on me and we were in the Four Building on Rikers Island. But I stayed cool and put some garlic powder on my slices. Luckily, he’d called in his order and just needed to pay and bounce. Soon as he bounced everything was cool again. I left out doing the George Jefferson walk across the Ave, holding up traffic like Earl when he on one. In addition, I’m watching a recap of a T-Top battle in Flavorville, North Carolina. The shot was tight and fairly brief, but I saw enough nuccas to make a Tarzan movie. There was not even the thought of social distancing. People drinking, smoking, yelling, talking noise, laughing. Spit flying all around a poorly ventilated room of overheated Black folk. I was so shook I took two COVID rapid tests back to back immediately after. Fuckouttahere. But all jokes aside, this isn’t a laughing matter. People are still perishing daily. We’ve already lost 200K. I don’t wanna bust your groove. I just want you to be careful. Life is precious. But you motherfakers are gonna do what you wanna do. Just be safe.
I’m still a bit taken aback when I see MF clique jumping. And no, I’m not talking on some young boy shit. I’m using clique as a generic term for any team, partnership, crew, gang, squad, etc., from the boardroom to the streets. I’m not one to judge another individual. But I do take meticulous notes. And when I see a MF consistently in diverse circles, it makes me skeptical of your intentions and you in general. I’m not talking about business purposes or just being friendly and showing love. Those two reasons are solid. But when I saw you with the Joneses last month and you’re with the Smiths this month AND the Joneses don’t fvck with you like that anymore---let’s just say I’m about zero percent likely to fvck with you on any level other than in passing. I know your type. You’re with whomever is up or appears to be up. You have no genuine folk. You’re a renegade. My third eye discerned and I keep at least one of my physical eyes on you at all times. No, we can’t start an LLC together. No, you can’t get my plug’s mathematics. And no, I’m not gon hook you up with my sis. She’s not interested.
Stop paying the white man regular price, the resell man an astronomical price, and stepping to your folk for a discount with their product. If anything, you tip your folk on top of paying what the cost is. Why do some MF make it a point to always try to shortchange their folk? Now, I can’t hate on a frugal person. They clip coupons. They dig through bargain barrels. They use no-frills laundry detergent. Their entire existence revolves around saving pennies. I don’t blame them. It’s nothing nefarious with them. But it burns my biscuits when I see a MF try to get over on their folk. It’s disgusting. You support your folk whenever you can. You don’t only pay the asking or retail price, you cop two, tree dem. And if you don’t have the means to support them financially, that’s cool. Don’t be discouraged. We can all respect the struggle. But you support them vocally every chance you get. If someone needs something done related to your folk services and you hear about it, open your fvcking mouth. Throw that alley. We know your broke ass is on social media all damn day. How about a repost or retweet? How about two? Stop shortchanging your folk while at the same time breaking your bank account to line the white man’s pockets. Punk ass MF. Jealous ass, sedentary MF.
IT’S HOODIE SEASON! I SAID IT’S HOODIE SEASON! After you read this blog, check us out on Twitter or IG @crewunb. The Unbearables have fly and unique hoodies available right the fvck now. Cop one for you, one for your baby mama, one for your wife, one for your auntie, and three for your chillen. Take a pic and send it to us. We appreciate all your support, as well as the support of all our VIP members like T-Mack dem. Love, infinite.
After you cop your hoodies, stop by my site, tymonday.com. There you can find links for all my works of art, as well as a glimpse into my life. I’m just a blessed Black man working hard for the hunnit grand times a hunnit grand. Time to shake a leg and get up in the wind, sugar. One love.
#MNR: Monday Night Raw
Good evening, and welcome to Masterpiece Theatre. I’m your host Sir Ty Monday, the Great. A bruva got a fresh cut so I really can’t hear any type of slander coming from any nightmare holder at the moment. And I got a fresh Black Nike tech suit in the closet and the Doernbecher 14s coming in the mail tomorrow? Yeah, it’s quiet. Kiss my grits. But anyways, big ups to my barber of over twenty years, JP Peterson. Check him and owner/proprietor Julian out at the 309 Beauty Bar by the check cashing spot on Van Brunt St. in Englewood, NJ.
Big ups to @FreeGameGriff, an up and coming rapper from Texas. He sent me a couple of tracks and I liked what I heard. Go to YouTube and check his work out. “Zuko” is more traditional Gulf Coast, laid back flow while “Getaway” is a lyricist’s delight. Support the up and comers. Every artist had to wear that hat at some point.
Marijuana legalization is on the books for Election Day 11.3.2020 in the state of New Jersey. That not only means that Jersey residents will be able to legally purchase reefa, it also means that possession will not be criminal up to two ounces. Talks were in for it to be up to a pound, but that has yet to materialize. I’m saying this --- all you “woke” ass colored folk better take your hostile asses to the election hall and cast a vote in favor. I know all youse smoke cheeba. I’m not snitching, not naming names. But I know. So, get your big greasy ass up off that worn out sofa your mama overpaid for from Rent-a-Center in 1999 and make moves to your voting precinct on November 3, being that voting for the actual president wasn’t enough to get your ham hock smelling ass up anyway. Press the button for whom you feel (are you kidding me?). But take your ass out and vote. With your stankin’ ass.
Ever since my first trip to the World Trade Center as a first grader, I’ve always had a fascination with skyscrapers. I stood at the base and looked as far as I could into the Manhattan sky. It was like the physical form of Jack’s beanstalk. I was the same way the first time I was in lower Manhattan to see the Freedom Tower. Ditto for the Empire State building every time I’m on foot on 33rd St. I’ve seen the Willis Tower (formerly Sears Tower) from above in an airplane flying over Chicago on the way back from Vegas. I’m familiar with the Burj Khalifa in Dubai (the world’s tallest building), the twin towers in Malaysia, the Taipei 101, and almost every skyscraper on the planet. I was on YouTube yesterday (like every other day) and I came across a very interesting piece about a concept for the next level in skyscrapers, an actual vertical city. With the rapid rate of world population, the idea of self-contained communities at the very least make for vivid imagination and amazing discussions. Imagine a self-contained community that incorporates vertical farming, beach, mountain range, stadium (yes, a pro sports stadium), redwood forest (wow), housing, and offices all stacked vertically. Each zone would have its own individualized block (module) with open space on one side allowing for L-shaped clusters. A massive elevator system would connect to smaller elevators in each cluster. Going to a Giants or Jets game would literally be an elevator ride or two away. Your back yard could contain redwood trees or a beach. You’d never have to leave home. The super-duper skyscraper would in theory be a mile tall. Wow. Like I said, the idea is purely hypothetical. Even if it were to one day be a reality, I seriously doubt I will see it in my lifetime. Consider the fact that most skyscrapers take about a half decade or better to construct, the idea of one skyscraper being about the height of between four to five Freedom Towers would be a logistical nightmare in the middle of Times Square and would also take about a half a lifetime to complete. And, going by the number 3015 in the title of the skyscraper, the actual ability to construct and complete such a project would be a millennium away. But the idea seeing a physical structure of that splendor and magnitude would be amazing. For further information, research Times Squared 3015.
Back to voting because this shit is dead on my mind. I hate talking politics in this current climate of political unrest, but it really scares the shit out of me when I see my own people completely apathetic to the idea of voting. I can’t help but wonder what the reasons are to have no faith whatsoever in something our folk laid their lives down for us to be able to do. I know most politicians come off as snakes and liars, but the object is to find the men and women who have real interest in change and help to get them elected. They work at your behest. Hold them to their word. And if they don’t do what they said they would do, get them the fuck outta there. It’s simple. The war will not be won solely with bloodshed. But it can be won with education. I’m not going to waste time with the correlation(s) to education and voting. I trust that you’ll figure it out.
Fuck Mike Ditka, you old, ornery, hateful bastard. I hope you step in some shit, hit the cha-cha slide, do the stanky leg, and tear your ACL, MCL, and PCL --- at the same dame time. Then I hope both Lucha Bros. come off the top rope and elbow drop your ligament torn knee. Then I hope eight fat girls who just left Big Brenda’s House of Ribs after sixteen Big Brenda Specials all walk over your fucked up knee. You punk motherfucker. Now I see why you shitted on Walter Payton in that Super Bowl (RIP Sweetness). You bigoted bitch. I should spit in your face.
Y’all enjoy y’all evening and continue to fight the power. As long as y’all keep reading, we’ll keep supplying you with the good doojee. Smoke sum’n with your kinfolk. Water.
With only two words, some twentysomething instantly set the world of social media on fire and revived a term unheard of from most in generations following mine. Shit, I’m not even certain folk my age are fully aware of the term, so let’s begin there (y’all know I build from the foundation up). Boomer is short for baby boomer, a moniker given to a person born during the baby boom, especially one born in America in the years following the second World War (1946-1965). I am the product of two baby boomers. My mother is a true baby boomer, as she is the daughter of a WWII vet. The men that went to Europe and Asia with the stars and stripes on their backs and survived to defeat Hitler, Mussolini them (my gpa was a soldier in the segregated US Army but that’s an entirely different blog) came home horny as a MF. I mean, can you blame them? They returned home to begin life as mostly young war veterans. For most white vets and a couple Black vets (smh), there was federal legislation to ensure their success back home (the G.I. Bill). This stability allowed vets to start families with low risk of economic strain.
Now that I gave y’all the definition and origin of the term I’ll make my way to the point of this blog. So back to the “Ok, boomer” line. It was a response to a response. It was a comeback to some type of criticism. The “Ok, boomer” was simple, yet it hit like Iron Mike hit Mitch Green that night (early morning) long ago in front the liquor store by Dapper Dan’s on 2fifth in Harlem. It basically said, “shut your old ass the fuck up.” Talk about a flash knockout. It immediately became the ubiquitous retort to anyone who was perceived to speak from a pure age perspective. It offered no true retort, only a healthy dose of ageism.
Ageism is a tendency to regard older persons as unworthy of attention purely because of age. It had long since permeated Black culture but with a single tweet announced that it was also the overall standard of today’s “social media is so virtual that it is the actual norm” world we live in. Let’s be honest. It’s been prevalent in Black culture since shortly after desegregation. When we were separated, we were united. It didn’t take long for the unity to dissipate shortly after desegregation. You can get as mad as you want about my perspective. I respect your right to your opinion. But I said what I said. There are plenty of factors that can be thrown into the pot, but the fact remains. Drugs (distribution and use) played a huge role. Government policy and subsequent criminal cases/convictions proved to be disproportionately detrimental to us skinned folk. Black mentalities dating back to the cotton fields also played a role. Throw all that in a witch’s brew and the times have damn sure changed. Apathy is the norm in so many cases nowadays. And it all plays its part in ageism. Once upon a time, the elders were easily the most cherished members of the household and village. I’m not Asian, but I’m pretty sure that this has never changed in some Asian cultures. But we, largely, have gone astray. I know what you’re thinking. You love the shit out your grandma. Of course, you do. Grandma/nana/big mama raised a bunch of you. But I’m speaking from a broad perspective. We don’t give our older folk the grace the way we used to.
The easiest example is the world of hip-hop. Many in the rap community (both fans and artists) nowadays have little to no love for the artists of their parents’ generation and those prior. They are quick to undercut the greatness of already established great projects and artists while proclaiming their favorite current rapper to be a #GOAT. Thirty is old. Forty is ancient. But to me, that’s just the result of the internet. We live in a microwave culture. We need it quick, fast, and in a hurry. Everything has to be current; an hour ago has already been forgotten. When I was a young hip-hop junkie your favorite artist dropped once a year --- maybe. You had to be in an urban area to see the visual promo or read The Source magazine to be up on game. Otherwise a new release came as a very pleasant surprise during a trip to the mall or local record store. Now there’s the internet. You get info by the second. Soundcloud made artists of any kid with a computer, internet, and microphone. Music is uploaded all day, every day, and is streamed and accessible on every continent with a few touches of a phone screen. Way back when, we rocked Mobb Deep’s The Infamous album all junior year into our senior year of high school consistently (still do). In sharp contrast, a couple years back Weezy dropped his album after a five year “hiatus”. The world went crazy. I mean, his fans and the industry alike had been demanding to hear his new album for three years or better. But there was the money situation with the label…anyway…he dropped the album, leading with the Swizz track with Dep’s “Special Delivery” (1-1-5, free my guy) sample and it was hot on the books. A week or two later, everyone had already moved on --- literally.
But back to the point. We are in a time where age and experience have been devalued. Few youngsters seek wisdom from older folk. But I don’t blame the youth. It’s our fault, meaning society and culture. We taught them to get money. We didn’t teach them that there’s more to it than get money. We laid the capitalist manifesto down but forgot to incorporate the golden rule. We made them ruthless. We also did a lot of slighting the youth. A lot of older folk didn’t embrace the young ones who traveled in their same paths. Instead of embracing and guiding them, they shunned and excluded. Look at the rap game (again). Over the years, a lot of older rappers have been reluctant to putting the younger cats on, whether literally or just putting them up on game that would allow them to become fishermen. So, when the young kids make it and the older guys fade into oblivion (and could use an alley from a young cat), they’re like “man fuck y’all.” I don’t blame them. That’s why I’ve always chosen to embrace the youth. I’m a put my young boys up on game so (hopefully) they avoid stupid mistakes and decisions (like me). I didn’t always have that guidance, so I try to be that cat to provide it. And when I speak on guidance, I’m not referring to guidance from home or family. Why? Because we all know youngsters tend to reject anything coming from the home (I did). But they will accept it from an outside source whom they respect because it’s subconsciously reinforcement. They heard it from home. They just weren’t trying to hear that shit. But hearing it from that brother they respect yet has no ties to them leaves a mark. A smart man learns from his mistakes. A wise man learns from others’ mistakes.
So --- here we are, smack in the middle of the IDGAF era. I call it a “MEocracy.” That means it’s all about me. Fuck you, your opinion, and those dusty ass sneakers you have on. Everyone's an expert on everything. And no one is trying to hear shit from anyone who isn’t in lockstep with their cause. This truth has no attached age range. We are all largely guilty. Young and old. But the thing is, the youngsters have youth on their sides. They also have hindsight enough to see all the mistakes we made before them. Any preaching that involves hypocrisy is quickly shut down. “Do as I say, not as I do” has been dead for a long, long time. This era of kids was born with the internet. They catch on quick. In a nutshell, they’re not trying to hear that shit. They are young with their own opinions and beliefs. They’ve largely been failed or underwhelmed by those that came before them and they have no desire to look to the past for guidance. But this is nothing new. It happens from generation to generation. But like I said, these kids were born into the internet age. They were raised with social media. You can’t pee on their legs and tell them it’s raining. They know better. So, the respect is all the way out the window. Empty words of wisdom are largely a thing of the past.
I don’t have a remedy, other than what I do. I speak candidly. You can’t lie to the youth. Painting a false narrative only leads to disappointment and rebellion. You gotta keep it a bean with the youth. They catch on quick. They know bullshit when they smell it. Even more important, you have to listen to the youth. They have a collective voice and they have their own individual voice. Respect is a two-way street. They will not listen unless you too listen. In many cases, you’ll probably have to be willing to be the one to listen first. Yes, we have been down the roads they’re traveling. But we didn’t have to deal with all the shit they have to deal with. These aren’t simpler times. The world changed drastically after 9.11.01. It only got worse that first Tuesday in November 2016. Listen to the babies, and they’ll listen to you. You never know, you may learn a thing or two. That’s my time y’all. Y’all be cool how y’all be cool.
A quick #PSA from Ty @tymonday Thompson
#100BlocksStories2 available now!
#MNR – All in My Bag
100 Blocks Stories II, my new literary masterpiece, is available on Amazon. I also have signed copies available. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org for details.
New site, new hunger.
Howdy. How y’all? I know, I know. It’s been a long time. We shouldna left youse. And yeah, I know. Excuses are the tools of the incompetent. So, I’ll just leave all that at the front door, wipe my feet, and step correct. Matter fact, I’ll take my shoes off before I enter. It’s an honor and a privilege to be invited into your cerebral home. I don’t take that lightly.
In the past few blogs, I chose to go the route of single topic blogging. The last blog, after an extended hiatus, dealt with the current state of our nation. The one preceding dealt with the iconic and long-running NYC based Video Music Box, the first music video show exclusively dedicated to hip hop content. You get the picture. But my long-time readers know that many of my blogs are all over the place, seamlessly weaving from topic to topic, genre to genre. Those are my favorites simply because I can cover more ground. We’re going with the latter tonight, so go on ‘head and twist you a left hand, sit back, and enjoy the read. Oh yeah, I left the filters in the receptacle. I’m a talk how I feel, feel me? Bet. Buckle up, fuckers. We finna take off like the Two Face at Six Flags Largo.
Before I talk my shit on all the new industry music that’s out in the streets, I’m gon take a moment to show love to an up and coming artist who I’m certain will be a household name in only a matter of time. Her name is @DaQuashiaS and her song is “Unconditional Love.” “Unconditional Love” is an exceptionally written piece of musical excellence, so smooth and ballad-like that it’s already being sung at weddings. “I showed you my scars and my flaws but you, loved me even more baby. Unconditional love, baby. I showed you my scars and my flaws now you, hold me even closer baby. Unconditional love, baby.” Go buy/stream it now. Y’all know my style. I’m an artist (author) so I support other artists of diverse mediums. Never had Apple Music. Ever. I purchase my material. I’m a put that buck in her pocket. Keep rocking Ms. Lady. Much respect.
Nasir Bin Olu Dara Jones. #GOAT. Y’all know where I’m headed with this. He did it again. And y’all man Hov tried to hate on his release date (AGAIN, FOR THE FIFTH TIME). Punk motherfluffer. Corny, lame ass nucca. Anyway, I digress. Nas’ new album, Kings Disease, is out and in heavy rotation for any rap aficionado who knows what Rap City was. This isn’t a rap blog so I’m not gon go into full album review mode. But I will share my favorite tracks. “Blue Benz” is classic Nasty material. “Replace Me” is my shit, geared toward the ladies. It features Big Sean and Don Toliver. For the first time in 24 years, the original The Firm lineup of Esco, AZ, Fox Boogie, and yes, CORMEGA are on the same track, titled “Full Circle.” But the album’s showstopper is “The Cure”, a song that transcends the genre and culture. If there were something music related that paralleled the National Film Registry for the Library of Congress, it should be there. The last verse, in my opinion, will be regarded in history as one his signature verses. Shit, it may be his signature verse. Before you step on your own balls in haste to rebuttal my statement, sit down and listen to that verse. That beat. He left planet earth. “Cuban link, QB chain belong in the MOMA…” Off jump, if you don’t even know what the MOMA is, fall back and educate yourself. Listen to that verse. I’m telling y’all. “On some Bridge shit…”
The new LOX album is amazing too. It’s titled Living Off Xperience (hence the acronym) and rocks from front to back. The Darkman X himself made a guest appearance. So did my nucca Jeremih, former People’s Champ. Same lyricism, same grit, same LOX. And that’s why they’re one of my favorite groups ever. They remain consistently consistent.
The Yankees suck and the Knicks didn’t A) even get invited to the fvcking NBA bubble and B) somehow managed to underachieve in the Draft Lottery (again), receiving the eighth pick even though we had the sixth best chance at the top pick. So basically --- don’t ask me shit about sports until at least week six of the NFL season. #FlyEaglesFly
My prayers are with the parents who will again double as employees and educators this school year, as many districts throughout the nation (namely EPSD) have chosen to go completely virtual to begin the 2020-2021 school year because of COVID. My prayers also go out to the students and educators who are actively or about to begin in-class instruction this week as well. Stay safe, y’all.
We’re going to leave politics out of this one. Thank you.
I need my programs to resume shooting and come on with my new seasons. I only have a few programs, but I’m dedicated. I’m currently fiending (in order) for Snowfall, American Horror Story, and Stranger Things. I’ve watched the damn ID Channel and everything on YouTube related to unsolved mystery type crimes. I need some fresh (fictional) content. The real world is very dark.
That’s all for now. I’m not gon talk y’all to death. But prepare for a steady amount of content in weeks and months to come. And we’ve got some new merch on the way too. So, get your coins together to cop you, your lady, and your baby some Unbearables apparel. It’s my time y’all.
We know it's been a while, and the world has been crazy, but we wanted to bless you with the blog from Ty @tymonday Thompson from back on June 29,2020. Enjoy his unique perspective on the current climate of our country/world. We've also changed our site name: www.crewunb.com is the new domain, so lock us in and stay tuned for new blogs and clothing.
Be sure to check out 100 Blocks Stories II from @tymonday, available at amazon.com or good ole fashioned hand-to-hand.
#MNR: The Sit-down
It’s been a good minute since the last MNR, but I’ve been too overwhelmed to properly speak on much the past few months. I’ve instead chosen to watch and listen. I feel that words can at times actually take away from the aesthetics of an indelible moment in time. I truly believe, with all respect to Jackie, MLK, Rosa, and the rest of the Civil Rights Movement, that we have as a people accomplished more in the past couple months than we have in 400 plus years amidst the American experience. You can argue in dissent. You have every right to. I’m not alone in my assessment. Since the assassination of Mr. George Floyd we have, through protest and riot, dismantled (physically and figuratively) both animate and inanimate objects which have been symbols and standards for Black oppression for centuries. Flags, statues, verbiage, whatever. It’s all coming down. Bigot celebrities have been instantly canceled. Pro sports leagues and college coaches have begun to atone for decades of negligence with relation to race and culture. Politicians are finally being held accountable. It’s a “glorious” revolution of sorts, if you ignore all the bloodshed. The bloodshed of slavery with the Middle Passage enhancement. The bloodshed of Jim Crowe and institutionalized segregation through lynching and the firebombing of churches. The bloodshed of our brothers in wars dating back to the American Civil War amidst slavery and/or segregation, all for the stars and stripes. The bloodshed of my brothers and sisters by the hands of crooked ass PIGS. It is glorious. I know Archie Warren (my maternal grandfather, a southerner who fought in a segregated World War II army) is smiling down from heaven. He and countless others sacrificed so we could get to this point. And now that we’ve gotten to this point…what’s next? How do we proceed in a manner that allows for us to get all the way where we need to be? I’ll tell you the way…
The key to continuing this momentum continues to lie within us. Yes, we have accomplished more in the last 100 days than the past four centuries. But we have to understand that the cumulative effect will not take place overnight. It’s going to take time for the playing field to even. Contrary to my militant and woke folk out in the macabre world of social media, I do believe in voting. If you feel like voting doesn’t make a difference because the elected don’t address our needs at the local, state, or federal level, align with candidates who will. Especially when it comes to local voting. Vote for your mayor, city council, and school board. They decide how much money your child’s school district has to properly educate him/her (along with federal allocation). They decide on your property taxes and whether or not construction can begin in your neighborhood on a noise and traffic polluting, vermin infested shopping center. And if you didn’t know before about the impact of voting at the state level, I’m sure you do now. Especially if you live in a state with a governor who couldn’t wait to get on his knees, blow #45 off under the desk in the Oval Office Billy Clint/Lewinsky style, and then hastily re-open or never properly shut down your state in COVID response. Houston is on fire right now. Miami-Dade County is on fire right now. Jacksonville is on fire right now. Arizona is on fire right now. I’m a go ahead and hit below the belt on this one. All you sons of bitches in Kentucky need to take a good look in the mirror. You elected State Attorney Daniel Cameron to office. He’s the reason we have yet to see any type of justice for Ms. Breonna Taylor. As pertaining to the federal level…if you honestly believe that another four years of #45 beats four years of Biden you are the worst. Absolutely. And I know you favor what you hear over what you know because I can name at least fifteen atrocious acts from the incumbent, things Biden would NEVER do. I’m not saying Biden is our savior. Our God and we ourselves are our saviors. But four more years of #45 could result in things this country may never recover from. I don’t even have the time to properly address the Kavanaugh Supreme Court nomination and appointment as well as the 200+ judicial appointments at the federal level courtesy of #45. And for those don’t give a fuck types…I’m certain you give a fuck about your children’s future. The future of your nieces and nephews. I hope you do.
The final piece of this puzzle lies within being able to sit down and have uncomfortable academic discussions with friends AND foes of other races. So much of the disconnect lies within ignorance and lack of knowledge. People don’t know history. People settle for believing what they’re told and not what they can learn for themselves. I just read about how the Chinese were walking up to Blacks and touching their skin at the Beijing Olympics in ’08. That was, for many, their first time ever seeing Black folk in the flesh. Imagine that. It leads me to thinking about some of the wicked things many immigrants are told about us before they make their way to America. It’s all in the same line of reasoning. We either assume on our own or listen to the words of others pertaining to things we don’t know when we don’t seek the truth. What begins as innocent naivete can end in bigotry and prejudice. Now, strictly addressing my Black folk. You may feel a way about what I’m about to speak on, but chances are you can’t whoop my ass and I’d rather burn a L and discuss it with you than get my clean Lo tee dirty. So, I’m just going to speak on it. It’s imperative that we don’t get delusional with our fight. Please don’t forget that there are plenty of good and great white folk in this world. Some I call my folk because they are. Also remember that everything isn’t prejudicial, and not every opposing view is racist. White folk are entitled to their opinion, the same as you, whether moderate or extreme. They have absolutely every right to wear their MAGAt hats with all the pride in the world. They have every right to tweet as they please and oppose what you oppose. That doesn’t make them the enemy. That makes them American, the same as you, civil rights intact. What makes them the enemy is their thoughts and beliefs. The only way to change that is through education, on both sides. We can’t argue what we don’t know ourselves. Knowledge equips us with the cool to end that dumb ass noise with ease. The hope is that in that moment there will be room for understanding and advancement as one. If not, bring out the road roller. They’re the tar. That’s how I see it. If you know me, you know I’m always up for discussion and debate. I’ll provide the party favors. Just don’t bring that dumb shit my way. That’s my time y’all.
P.S. I hope my History majors caught the Glorious Revolution double entendre.