A Retelling of the Narrative

Those of us in the blogosphere who read and write about race have been well told the ugly story of the ugly people called black. There are plenty of blogs to tell how f’d up the people called black are. It would be a waste of time to go over the details. Besides, they do a bang up job here and here. Some try to defend my people from the beastly hordes of anti-blacks, such as this guy, this guy, and depending on his random, weather-adjusted mood this guy. Kudos to these brave souls who believe in the goodness and human worth of my people. They strengthen my often shaky faith in my race.

Well folks, I’m no thorough fact-finder, intellectual, statistical analyst, or even overwhelmingly sharp (I can hold my own though ). What I am  good at is spin and hustle.  So to those who’ll entertain my bullshit, I’ll offer my talents in the defense of my people.

Here’s my “RETELLING OF THE NARRATIVE.”

The black person is a nobel and majestic beast. Our woman is the foundation upon which greatness is built. We are the the ultimate conquerors and destined to rule. We are the measuring sticks by which manliness is determined. Our large penises make us the fit to be the Universal progenitors. Our natural agressions and propensity toward brute force make us well suited to the taking of lands. Our power of conquest is so strong we only need to show up and others vacate and abdicate their lands to us. We impose our sexual will onto women and ultimately, they accept. We are the ultimate free spirits, strong enough to exist in solitude and succeed at getting what all men only dream of : pussy without paternal obligation. Modern society should be ashamed of itself for imposing controls to deny us our nature. Hip hop tells of our glorious exploits. We succeed in the fringes of society. We have no use for the petty work of weak inferiors; we can earn and manage our lives in the manners that this oppressive establishment has unfairly criminalized. Education, reading: fuck em!!! Who needs booksmarts when you have game (and a big dick).

The prolific strength of the black man, can be tamed only by the mother of the Universe: The Black woman. Existence came in being from the mythical oriface of the black woman. I tell you the truth: even science understands that all matter can fit into the black hole, only to come out the other end white and new. It is the destiny of all life to enter the great black hole. This is the secret knowledge of blackness. It’s the cosmic trump card that keeps us reasonable. The  black woman herself is strong and independent. She bears and raises children alone: no help from the black man. When she gets aid from the governments of the world, she’s simply taking what she’s owed. Some black women have even become crafty enough to understand the limitations of child bearing, and choose to abort their fetuses. Hat’s off to those brave women. This is a testament to forward thinking and resourceness of the black woman. She instinctively knows how to cull the weak from our progeny. This process may need to be repeated sometimes, so some of our women have to engage in the culling process multiple times. Venerial infections: for the strong black woman this is only a minor nuissance. It is simply the cost of being able mate the manliest of men.

Together these people shall inherit the earth, then next the Universe…..

 

FUCK YOU!!!!!

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