How Dare You.

Charlottesville, Virginia. What many thought was the unthinkable happened. White supremacy reared its grotesque visage in full view of the world. Gone were the white sheets and hoods of Grand Wizards and forgotten were any pretenses that this rally would end peacefully. For those who thought what happened was inconceivable, beyond the pale, it just could not occur…

How do you like your fucking wake-up call?

It took a white girl to bite it for America to pay attention to white supremacy, ain’t that a bitch? Understand I mean no disrespect towards Heather Heyer, but black folks have been dying for a good long while now, and it wasn’t until she died that we, as a society, started taking white supremacy seriously. How many of you reading this know of Deandre Harris, an African American protester who mentors children? He caught the beatdown of the century from a group of spineless bottom feeders hellbent on throwing the most pathetic white temper tantrum replete with off-the-wall chants such as, “You/Jews will not replace us.”

And behind the veil, casting blame and condemnation on both sides is the orange orangutan himself. Number 45 (I’m done uttering the name of that syphilis-infected scrotum with sentience) originally placed blame on “many sides;” he later condemned white supremacy after being publicly pressured, much to the chagrin of David Duke’s punk ass (why isn’t he dead yet?). Shortly after that, he blamed both sides again.

And with all that has happened, I swear this is the first time I’ve heard white supremacy spoken about with such fervor on network television. I could be wrong. I’ll be the first to readily admit if I am wrong on that count. I know my anger and frustration may be coloring my memories, but I think I’m on to something.

Growing up, I remember being taught through the reactions of my peers and scolding from adults that people didn’t talk about race. To bring up race was to invite racism to the picnic, watch it sit down, eat all of your snacks and then guzzle all of the wine. Racism was a bummer. White folks didn’t talk about it because it was uncomfortable. Black folks didn’t talk about it because white fragility was infuriating, frustrating and sometimes deadly.

When Rancid Orange Juice in a Toupée was elected Fascist in Chief, so-called liberal ally white folks were surprised.

How dare you be surprised.

When Urine in an ugly suit defended white supremacy after Charlottesville, American Idol runner-up and self-admitted “fucking dumbass,” Clay Aiken apologized for all the numerous times he’s defended the Ball-Sack in Chief from charges of racism.

How dare you be surprised.

Were we not all watching the shit show that was Breathing Metamucil’s campaign? Did we all not see that overgrown Oompa Loompa mock a disabled reporter? Were we all not privy to the “locker room talk” caught on an Access Hollywood tape? Did we not witness the Orange Overlord of Fucking Stupid encourage people who came to his rallies, his base, to hurt protestors? Have we not heard the disrespectful way in which he spoke of women?

How dare you be surprised.

How dare you be surprised.

How goddamned dare you be surprised!!

The fact that you were surprised at all is indicative of white privilege, the privilege to NOT know black and brown truth. It’s the privilege to become angry when racism is brought up in conversation because racism doesn’t negatively affect you. It’s the privilege of claiming that normal people don’t see race in everything when for some of us RACE IS EVERYTHING. It’s the privilege of thinking that because you aren’t an active participant in racism, then you aren’t complicit–you most certainly fucking are! I wonder how liberating such privilege is, that liberation of ignorance, that liberation of unaccountability. Must be swell. But as they say, knowledge is power. Too bad ignorance is bliss.

And now, at the time of this writing, The Giant Dick dipped in Orange Slushy openly declared he will “destroy” North Korea during his UN speech and he is in a shouting match with black athletes who are taking a knee during the National Anthem. Some white folks are angry because they feel taking a knee is disrespectful to the flag (because a piece of cloth means more to these people than the citizens that flag is supposed to fucking represent). Folks want Kapaernick to shut up, they hate the ripple he’s started. They hate being bound in the shackles of reality, tethered to the cold harsh truth that ever since our ancestors were brought here against their will, black people have been under attack. Our culture, our bodies, our sanity have been under attack by petulant white men who think the world belongs to them, and worse yet, these people who just want black folks to shut the hell up and stop rocking their world with revelations that their fabled meritocracy is just that, a fable, benefit from all of it.

How fucking dare you be surprised.

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About roninliterati

Ronin Literati is Harold Fisher, formerly known as Obi Adisa Asad (sometimes, still known as this–long story), also known as Fish. I’m a writer living in Los Angeles. My dream is to become a successful science fiction/fantasy writer. I also write this blog when I remember. Thanks for coming with me on this wild ride. If you want to reach me, you can send me an email at roninliterati@gmail.com.

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