Let me preface this piece with the caveat that I am not a conspiracy theorist. Really, I’m not. But… Who killed Clementa Pinkney? We all know who pulled the trigger, but who gave the order? Who had Dylan Roof walk into Emanuel A.M.E. Church and murder in cold blood a sitting state senator? A sitting state senator who was a rising star in South Carolinian politics. The kind of leader that comes around once every couple of generations with that rare, powerfully potent voice and requisite courage to speak the harsh truth to power was wiped off the face of the earth by an assassins bullet. Sound like a familiar story?
Martin, Malcolm & Medgar
For the uninitiated think Martin, Malcolm and Medgar. Oratorical juggernauts at the apex of their organizational strength and leadership on the cusp forcing revolutionary change in the light of day while commanding an inordinate share of the daily media cycle further inspiring the masses. It’s easy to forget that for most of Clementa Pinkney’s career as a politician and public servant he was literally an enemy of his state and a political foe diametrically opposed to the overwhelming majority in his state legislature–many of which have eulogized him in the wake of his untimely demise. Are we really all to believe that the far right (and racist) leaning South Carolinian state legislature had an overnight revelation that that hateful racist flag that they and most of their constituency have in the distant and not so distant past publicly revered no longer sees as some innocuous ode to southern heritage? I’m sorry but my faith in the redemptive plausibility of my fellow countrymen (particularly below the Mason-Dixon line) is not that strong. The modern historical record is far too replete with instances like this whereby a black leader gets assassinated in the prime of their life fighting for what’s right. Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X were both murdered at age 39, Medgar Evers was killed at age 38. Clementa Pinkney lived to see the ripe old age of 41 before white supremacy silenced his voice. Unless you believe that it was mere coincidence that this uneducated aloof and borderline autistic misfit would have the wherewithal to first and foremost know who he was, (he specifically asked that he be identified) know his importance to the anti-racist struggle down south and moreover know his schedule there’es no logical explanation for why Dylan Roof would be privy to the personal schedule of any sitting senator devoid of some sort of collusion with at least one other party.
I don’t mean to be dismissive of the lives of Cynthia Hurd, DePayne Middleton-Doctor, Ethel Lance, Myra Thompson, Susie Jackson, Sharonda Singleton, Danial Simmons or Tywanza Sanders whose lives were every bit as precious as Clementa Pinckney’s, but their deaths in this massacre was collateral damage. The target was Pinkney and the murderous thug that they sent to do it said as much when he said that the people that he killed were so nice and warm that he almost could not go through with it. If this young misguided boy consumed with hate was acting on his own accord the love of Christ, the notion that love conquers hate [insert your favorite turn the other cheek cliche] would have actually worked as advertised and ballyhooed ad nausea by many Negroes alike. That tactic proved to be unsuccessful in reaching the minuscule yet malleable mind on a mission to commit dastardly deeds. The question(s) is who gave him this mission to carry out, why did they give it to him and what was/is the end goal. Is it really a race war as posited in the manifesto that he supposedly authored? Are we really crediting this kid with having that much foresight? Or was there a more esoteric sublime order from a higher placed source in state, local and/or federal government?
Dumb and dumber
Dylann Roof was both a high school dropout (9th grade) and a certified tea bagger. That combination would normally net some pretty egregious grammatical errors in a typical 147 character jibe so how he got through a 2,440 count scribe with all his subjects and verbs in agreement and no misspellings is a surprising feat even if the late great Marva Collins or that woman that taught Helen Keller how to read and write were tag team tutoring him.
Lest we forget this is the typical verbiage of a high school drop out from a poor white bigoted town in the south :
So yeah, I’m calling bullshit on that manifesto being authored by Dylann Roof. I’m also calling bullshit on the website that features a bunch of pictures of the kid that were all seemingly taken in the same year, month or even week.
As you can see there’s no change or growth (in his face, body or bowl cut) in any of these photos that populated his website. It suggests to me that it was all put together in one instance. Was that instance to cover up a sinister conspiracy to kill a black leader and state senator? I’m inclined to believe so.
Flag under the bus
White southerners have a legitimate bone to pick with their state leadership and many of the conservative stalwarts that they have supported over the years for so easily acquiescing to that flag being taken down from the state capitol and the various other land marks that it proudly flies. Don’t get me wrong I’m not a proponent of it being flown and I’m not above stomping on the flag while it’s down, but the stars and bars insignia that graced Dylann Roofs apparel had no more to do with the 9 lives that he ended on that fateful day at Emanuel A.M.E. Church than the stars and strips has to do with the countless men and women of color that get gunned down by American law enforcement whose apparel bears that symbol. The flag is too easily being made a scapegoat when there are much larger culprits at play. Removing the flag from the public space is all good. Such an eye sore is long overdue to be buried in the annals of history. However if this reactionary gesture gets construed as benevolence or anything greater than the insult being rescinded from atop the actual injury (that many still remain in denial of) we once again have been hoodwinked ;()
So I ask again in closing: Who Killed Clementa Pinkney???
Those that know me and even those that briefly meet my acquaintance know me to be a pretty fuckless kind of dude. Generally speaking I have far less fucks to give about the mundane minutia that comprises American media and pop culture tabloid gossip than the average blue blooded American or urban dweller so when I logged on and hit the ‘like’ button for a high-minded status that came across my timeline and was met by the following automated message: my most immediate reaction was “fuck them, I don’t give a fuck. I still got Twitter, Instagram and Black Planet”. I said that to myself of course because at this point the only means of communication on Facebook I have is the inbox. I guess that’s their way of allowing me conjugal visits.
Then a few days went by and I realized that I had more fucks to give than I led myself to believe. In lieu of this most humbling revelation and to get back at Mark Zuckerbergs censorship warriors I figured I’d share a few of the fucks that I had to give this week but could not because my habitual fuck free ways landed me in Facebook jail (again).
Fuck-2-give #1: The Xenophobic out break of Violence that has South African blacks attacking, maiming and murdering fellow African migrants from across the continent.
Giving too much of a fuck about this issue is actually what landed me in Facebook jail in this time around. I posted a graphic and disturbing video of black South Africans burning alive two young Africans boys that have migrated there from other parts of the continent along with some unflattering yet innocuous commentary about these innocent young boys tormentors. I’ve had far more offensive musings and diatribes on Facebook that have flown far below the FB Polices radar, at least not to the point where I was banned. Hemming me up for this one is sort of like getting hemmed up for driving while black–or even worse, running while black after committing the cardinal sin of making eye contact with an officer (more on that later).
As it pertains to the issue itself (the xenophobic violence) it’s a much more complex phenomenon than most people (self included) can see with the kind of naked-eyed purview afforded to those of us outside the continent of Africa–so much so that even calling what’s taking place in South Africa xenophobia is sort of misleading. It only tells part of the story.
I was discussing this issue with a co-worker from Uganda (because when you don’t have Facebook you have to actually talk to people) and he conveyed to me a better understanding of the unfortunate conflict. The acts of violence in the name of faux black South African nationalism is one of the reverberating forces of Apartheid South Africa. To discuss this issue devoid of a primordial understanding is to engage in vacuous and more over frivolous banter. So in that respect the post needed to be deleted because unbeknownst to me and my initial commentary on this matter, the ghosts of PW Botha and FW de Klerk are far more operative in the ongoing violence than the severely misguided and uneducated people committing the violence. A nation of fools and babies is what is left of native black South Africa post Apartheid. It’s one of the reasons why Nelson Mandela’s rise from prison to the presidency to this day is seen as a mixed bag. Sure there was progress, but it’s underwhelming and microscopic progress.
The crux of the problem is there are very few levers in South African society to uplift the black masses in a majority black nation. Therefore all of the skilled and even non-skilled work goes to the migrant workers (the jobs that are not held by the white minority Afrikana) while the natives wallow in the extreme poverty and ignorance that Apartheid, global white supremacy and the failings of the ANC have birthed into existence. Or rather failed to mitigate. I’m afraid that there is no easy solution to this very complex problem. Much like the myriad problems that beset African-Americans state side. One could go so far to say that the issues that black people in america face are a microcosm of what’s happening across the continent of Africa. I digress…
Fuck-2-give #2: Floyd Mayweather proclaims that he is better than Muhammad Ali wasI know, I know. For someone who claims to have less fucks to give than the average this is sort of a frivolous fuck to be giving, right? This fact notwithstanding after a week of being regulated and relegated to strictly being a Facebook lurker I’ve seen this conversation cross my timeline too many times for me not to want to add my two cents to the potluck. Mainly because Ali is both my boyhood and adulthood idol–more so than any man or women to have walked the earth before or after him. That being said Ali’s legacy in the ring is not what earned him the universally recognized moniker “The Greatest”. It may have been his own claim to fame while a young, spry and talkative fighter (much like Floyd today) but What earned him the Title of The Greatest was his heart and mind outside of the ring. Since no sane or thinking individual would confuse Mayweathers heart and mind with Ali’s heart and mind it’s most obvious that Floyd was speaking about being a better fighter inside the ring and there’s very little evidence to disprove his assertion. Floyd like him or not is pound for pound the greatest fighter in most of our lifetimes. He leaves a lot to be desired outside of the ring, but that does not trump his lofty accomplishments on his day job.
Fuck-2-give #3: The most intellectually stimulating hip-hop beef of all time: Michael Eric Dyson Ethers Cornell West
If you gave even half of a fuck about the classic rap battles that have taken place in the annals of hip-hop history like Biggie Smalls vs 2Pac, Jay Z vs Nas, MC Shane vs LL Cool J, LL Cool J vs Kool Moe Dee, Roxanne Shante vs UTFO, The Real Roxanne vs UTFO, Sparky D vs Roxanne and plethora of other lyrical jousts then how can you not love the classic take down of Cornell west by Emcee Michael Eric Dyson in his New Republic article The Ghost of Cornell West (long but a worthwhile read). In light of Dyson’s very public take down of his mentor turned adversary he’s been catching a lot of heat from many in the activist community for taking to task a man who purports to be a stalwart of truth, justice, equality and all things intellectually honest. Many are saying that the salvo lobbed by him at his former mentor was untoward, unwarranted and unbecoming of a black leader–especially in the era of #blacklivesmatter. I wholeheartedly and most vehemently disagree–for several reasons. First and foremost it was West that started the beef. Due to my cyber incarceration I was unable to remind some of the Cornell West sympathizers that crossed my time line of some of Wests innuendos and straight shots at Dyson and every other black figure that he formerly respected until they failed to follow his lead in opposing all things Obama.
The back story…
Cornell West and Tavis Smiley after not getting enough traction, support, and bunk mates for their attention whoring “poverty tour” from his friends in black academia that have a wider and much more diverse media perch took constant shots at Al Sharpton, Melissa Harris Perry and Micheal Dyson. Much of their thinly veiled insults (and not so thinly veiled) went un
“And we saw of course the coronation of the bona fide house Negro of the Obama plantation, our dear brother Al Sharpton supported by the Michael Dyson’s and others who’ve really prostituted themselves intellectually in a very ugly and vicious way” in exchange for access to the White House.~ Mad Rapper C-West
Micheal Eric Dyson then countered with this:
“I’ve probably known him longer than anybody on this panel. Hung out with him,” Dyson said. “I’ve been a victim of his vicious assaults in public. I’ve held my powder. That ain’t my usual nature. … I’m not going to pretend that it doesn’t hurt for you to call me a sellout because I disagree with you. You can be ‘ride-or-die,’ but while you’re riding—see who your vehicle is rolling over. I’m not mad at principled critique, but you still could be wrong. But when you start indicting my soul like I’ve given my soul over to Obama or the devil — now you’re tripping. You ain’t that important. You’re not God to be able to leverage the divine assignment of privilege or punishment.~ Emcee Mikey Dee
This was last year and in between that time these two venerable leaders lobbed jabs back and forth but it was Dyson’s latest 10,000 word take down that took the beef to a higher level and what I suspect it’s finale. Based on Cornell Wests much humbler retort to the article using the most layman mediums on earth (Facebook):
But it was all good just a week ago when he was calling folks house negros for not co-signing his ODS (Obama Derangement Syndrom). Calling a black man a house nigger or coon is a very serious charge if in fact he’s not a house nigger or coon (something that’s never been associated with his ethos). Sounds like a mea culpa to me. It’s either that or the old man has amnesia. Either way this beef is much more 50 Cent vs Ja Rule than Jay vs Nas because I have a funny feeling that long winded status update by the Wiley and Whooly Nutty Profesor was his round about way of saying “No Mas”. Advantage Dyson.
Fuck-2- give #4 (the final fuck): The Murder of Freddie Gray by Baltimore City Police, the subsequent protests and the continued culture of police corruption and abuse of authority in American law enforcement.
While this is one of those issues and causes that I have limitless fucks to invest in I’m sick and tired of what seems like a weekly deposit of fucks to some unknown brother guilty of something petty or less being executed by an overzealous cop looking for a few weeks off and some Go Fund Me dollars.
With all that’s taken place this past week I don’t even know where to begin. So many layers to this story alone. Let alone the fact that it’s a continuum of a long standing threat to black life on American soil since at least 1619. There’s still a uniqueness to this latest episode of a black man guilty of being human having some beat cop who’s from outside of his community play prosecutor, judge, jury and executioner all in a matter of minutes. I can go on for days lamenting and angry black ranting about what’s taking place in Baltimore but I’m sure you have better things to do today than to read a weeks worth of my backed up angry thoughts on an issue that has reached a critical mass for so many. So in the interest of your time I will make two brief points.
Mayor Rawlings ain’t shit and she needs to go. It’s time for real leadership in Baltimore and now that ground zero for civic protest and redress of serious long standing grievances from the community about the occupying police forces has moved to Baltimore it’s high time the cities cream rise to the ashes to assume stewardship. Note to Baltimorians: Your leader is somewhere in the crowd.
The sytem needs a diet. Ice Cube once said that riots ain’t nothing but diets for the system. Rioting, looting and anarchist behavior in large crowds are precursors for movements. They literally represent the entire affected community reaching the critical mass (when it’s not a bunch of white college kids bemoaning or celebrating an NCAA win or loss. The critical mass brought everyone out to the streets. The normally civic minded folks met up in the same square as the apathetic and happy go lucky. They were joined by the destitute, down trodden and the criminally under-educated class (known even to the voiceless black folks as thugs).So what a few windows got broken and some goods were looted. How many unarmed people were killed in these riots again? My point is that this sort of salad bar style of spotaneus combustion is the same incidental energy that formed the Black Panther Party (the original, not them new niggas).
The rest of my forgotten fucks that pertain to this issue have more to do with some of the things that I would have said on some of the links, statuses, memes that crossed my timeline.
Would have said if I could have said…
Other random Facebook ish that I would have liked, commented on or responded to last week (hence a sliver of a fucketh given)
Facebook even felt the need to remind me past comments of mine that they have deleted. Apparently calling a coon a coon is an erasable offense.
I even had my own cop stop that being censored prevented me from chronicling in contemporaneous fashion.
All in all being banned from posting for a week was not so bad but I’m glad to be back.