Black People Politics : Black Orchid in the White House Garden -- Assailing Michelle Obama

Discussion in 'Black People Politics' started by oldsoul, Jun 26, 2008.

  1. OldSoul

    OldSoul Permanent Black Man PREMIUM MEMBER

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    Black Orchid in the White House Garden ---- Assailing Michelle Obama
    “The slave woman is at the mercy of the fathers, sons, or brothers of her master!”
    Fredrick Douglass

    Where and When She Enters

    Politics is the hyper-actualization of the zeitgeist of American life and culture. It speaks to the very soul of the nation from its own particular vantage point, garishly poised in the mirror and boldly facing down the physic crucible fronting scene and script of all that the nation collectively has been, and all that it has allowed itself the capacity to become. It is the narrative of the nation’s soul crystallized in campaign combat.
    During the Bullwhip Days, as a most enticing however lurid habitual rendezvous played out in the quiet of the early wee hours of the morning. Set in the deafening hush tones of a stark ritual play, staged all throughout the American heartland no matter how near or far, in county after county. Often it was that when a female slave was to be found quite awhile away from her labors, this fact alone was enough to incite titillating cross-cultural gossip throughout the week. Who was this Black victim Mammy or one of Mammy and Master’s children? Was this Sapphire, or Jezebel? Not a hyper-sensitive moment was to be squandered seeking to resolve this latest bewildering community obsession, “Just what was Bubba doing in the basement?”
    This was so because a Black woman was the legal property of her master and therefore could never legally be raped. For nearly a quarter of a millennium, Black woman’s bodies were wholly at the mercy of their White master. As absurd as it may seem, this fact continues to guide and mold the social and political discourse of this nation. It is one of the most accursed legacies in the intergenerational transmission of this nation’s recurring racial conflict. Today, the Black Jezebel has come to the forefront as one of the grand archetypes of the New Mythology that forcefully guide, mold, and define this society through its cultural production. However, she remains a tragic symptom rendered forever mum and unattended, sheltering a wound left festering and a child left hidden in the basement. We all know that it is there but once again, “We really not supposed to talk about it!”
    After slavery, White men cowardly came to project the frequent Jack the Ripper-like attention that they had once wantonly displayed towards Black women’s bodies, on to the Black man. From this moment on, the maniacal specter of the Black male rapist fiendishly on the prowl for the chastity of pure White women, became the lurid and forced political a priori for the First Evil Birth of Jim Crow. This malicious deafening lie, and its crude female counterparts delivered in the stereotypes of Mammy, Sapphire, Jezebel, and their filthy, naked, and unruly, ‘Picaninny’ children proved remarkably efficient propagandized upon an entire vulnerable and newly freed Black community; during the immediate aftermath of one of the most egregious seasons of man’s inhumanity to man. Sadly enough, these horribly negative images projected solely out of the pathology of Bubba’s own bitter neurosis in defeat of the war, would help to solicit an additional century of an even viler form of racist bloodlust. No longer a valued commodity, like a horse, a nightstand, or a toilet, the premium upon Black life in this country would diminish precipitously, and the hundred-year struggle over this forged blood-drenched resolve came to redefine an entire society; for better or worse.
    Nonetheless, emerging from out of the bitter wrath of life-long captivity you tell me, just what man would ignore the anxious immediate search for his own extended family, only to act out solely to express some queer phantom fiendish lust for the wife of his oppressor? There have often been times in the life of this nation, when simply to be born a Black man, was akin to being born with a gun pointed directly at your head. Most likely, it was a shot gun, leaving little possibility of finding the bullet. The Black woman today largely remains an enigma beyond the culture outside of her community, and often her intellect and strength illicit widespread fear of retribution. The truth, now deeply secreted back of the hidden resolve of tens of thousands of ruthless carnivals of blood-soaked rope and fire, pogroms sentencing Black flesh to the gruesome funeral pyre, is actually much simpler than that. More often than not, Whitefolk as always simply wanted to steal Colored-folk’s land. America is the great land grab of the Second Rise of Europe.

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