We Can’t Joke With Our Oppressors

Photo by Punto Fotográfico on Unsplash

This month on the 25th will mark six years since George Floyd was murdered by a Minneapolis police officer. George was probably one of the thousands of Black Americans who have died by the hands of the State. He is amongst the millions who have been brutalized and dehumanized since before this country became one. George was murdered by white police officer Derek Chauvin who kneeled on his neck for almost 9 minutes. It was all caught on video and sparked a widespread renewed movement against police violence and the very , specific intentional inflammable anti Black violence that has permeated this land since 1619. The United States feeds off the blood of Black children, women and men. Our blood has made this land trillions and our cultural sacrifice is that of constant vigilance against the threat of genocide. Let’s make no mistake, the Black American story is one riddled with a people surviving an onslaught of state sponsored genocide. The methods are vast, the weapons against us are endless and the odds have never been in our favor. To be a Black American is to know millions of nights of tears, thousands of welts , tens of hundreds of misfortunes and an infinite level of preserverance against all of the daggers pointed at our necks, at all times. This shit has never been a game and it has never been a fucking joke.

Sadly our minds have been poisoned and our ranks filled with those who have aligned with the ministry of being anti us. These turncoats and these paid funkies of a gross system stand in support and community with those who tresspass against us. They have the audacity to be paraded as our leaders , our inspirations , our hopes, our examples of making it. They entertain us with thoughts of being like them BEING LIKE THEM. That is why they can laugh at them handing us a rope and us hanging ourselves with it. Cause a joke is a joke and what aint, aint.

I said a joke is a joke. And what ain’t, aint. Black man being suffocated, Black man hanging from tree, Black woman , too black, so ugly. And they hahahahahahahahaha. I can think of a thousand things they won’t say. I can think of a bunch of people they won’t slay emotionally, psychologically and spiritually with these wack ass , jive jokes . Venomous and gratuitous, insulting the Blacks is a sport and an edict. The message we take it, should be to receive that Black lives don’t matter to most and the debate is still out whether we’re even real despite being on this planet the longest.

We can’t joke with our oppressors because we are not equals. You owe me too much for anything to be funny. You have bills to pay, you have wrongs to right, you have took too much joy and delight in seeing me and mine burn,hang, bleed, plead, need , water our seeds of suffering trying to survive your systems. What are we laughing at during the height of a time when all this crime, this spiritual warfare, this mental instability, this crooked set of misery and renewed interest see in dehumanizing me.

We have nothing to laugh at. Get some new material. The obsession reel is terrible. Predictable, ancestral, recycleable, flammable detritus of an old script with tired writers. We were Niggers at the award show a few months ago. Now we’re hanging from trees, our cries of we can’t breath, too Black in skin to be human, our suffering is renewing to a system used to consuming our blood, our flesh, our pain , our rest to make hahahahaha games.

We can’t joke with our oppressors. Laughing under duress, Stockholm syndromes and pigs in a dress.