A Day in the Life of The Negro (according to Cliven bundy)
Fri Apr 25, 2014 at 06:17 AM PDT
A Day in the Life of The Negro (according to Cliven bundy)
by GenXangster
"I want to tell you one more thing I know about the Negro,” he said. Mr. Bundy recalled driving past a public-housing project in North Las Vegas, “and in front of that government house the door was usually open and the older people and the kids — and there is always at least a half a dozen people sitting on the porch — they didn’t have nothing to do. They didn’t have nothing for their kids to do. They didn’t have nothing for their young girls to do.
“And because they were basically on government subsidy, so now what do they do?” he asked. “They abort their young children, they put their young men in jail, because they never learned how to pick cotton. And I’ve often wondered, are they better off as slaves, picking cotton and having a family life and doing things, or are they better off under government subsidy? They didn’t get no more freedom. They got less freedom.”
"That’s exactly what I said. I said I’m wondering if they’re better off under government subsidy, and their young women are having the abortions and their young men are in jail, and their older women and their children are standing, sitting out on the cement porch without nothing to do, you know, I’m wondering: Are they happier now under this government subsidy system than they were when they were slaves, and they was able to have their family structure together, and the chickens and garden, and the people had something to do? And so, in my mind I’m wondering, are they better off being slaves, in that sense, or better off being slaves to the United States government, in the sense of the subsidies. I’m wondering. That’s what. And the statement was right. I am wondering.”
Just this morning while I was sitting on the government house porch, my son came and sat down next to me. Since we both had nothing to do, a long tense silence passed between us. I knew he had something to say so I patiently waited for him to speak his mind. You have a lot of time to do that when you have nothing to do but sit on a government house porch. After a while, he finally spoke;
"I know I survived the abortion and everything and I'm lucky to be alive but can you not put me in jail this summer? I'd rather just pick some cotton for free for white people if it's alright."
I must have looked confused because he continued;
"Look, mother, I don't know how black mothers got the power to control the justice system and put their sons in jail but this has to stop! All I want is backbreaking labor to do and I want to do it for free! Why can't you understand?"
I shook my head and turned to him;
"We already talked about this. You're not picking cotton. You're going to jail and I don't wanna hear another word about it. Your cousin Leo is expecting you."
My son dropped his shoulders and sulked.
"Never have nothing to do but be put in jail by my own mother and sit on a porch..." he mumbled.
Before I had a chance to answer, my do-nothing daughter walked out of the open door and sat with us. I knew what she was on before she even started.
"Look, young girl, I already told you, I don't have nothing for you to do. Stop bugging me and sit on this porch!"
I try not to look at her too much because it freaks me out. She's actually a ghost because she was aborted. She doesn't even exist. Why should it matter that she has nothing to do? Crazy kids.
I turned my thoughts back to my government subsidy check. Where's that damn mailman? He's always late. I won't be able to send my son to jail on time or pay for my next abortion. Goddammit.
There has to be a better way.
I thought about what my son said and I thought back to the old days when my ancestors had all the cotton in the world to pick. Fields and fields of fluffy white salvation. How lucky they were to have calloused hands, broken backs and chicken gardens and a family that never had to be split up because of abortion and jail. Instead, their kids were sold away to the deep south and given glorious unpaid, hardcore, life-shortening labor to do. I imagined them all happily boarding mule wagons and cages pulled by horses, waving goodbye to their proud parents for the last time, on their way to the land of cotton. Look away, Dixie, look away!
Oh how I wish I was in the land of cotton. Maybe my son is right. It certainly seemed a better option than me sending him off to jail all the time. And perhaps my daughter would have a real body instead of being an aborted ghost. And to confirm her living body, she would have lovely raised scars on her back in the shape of an oak tree from being whipped for not working hard enough. Lazy ass ghost daughter. That would teach her some manners!
And she would have something to do! She could wear a flour sack and scrub white women's floors for free. Perhaps she could even bear some children at the tender age of 14 instead of haunting me all day. She wouldn't be able to abort any of her children and they'd all be happily singing together in the cotton fields and chicken gardens.
And both my children would be happily illiterate. They hate going to school and learning things anyway. Going to school is the very definition of having nothing to do. Completely useless. No opportunities to wear out their bodies working for the benefit of white people. Just sitting there at a desk. Like this porch. Nothing to do. Ever.
Who needs food stamps! My ancestors were fine chefs. They were thrown scraps of meat that a dog wouldn't even eat by generous white people who were in no way mindful that a working person with so much to do needed better food. My people turned inedible offal into culinary masterpieces full of salt, fat and cholesterol because they had no choices. Food stamps that pay for fresh produce and all that crap are a waste when The Negro is better of sharpening his skills cultivating a diet that would be handed down to the next generations as a legacy of WTF-why-are-we-dying-from-heart-attacks-at-age-42. Now we can just go to the store and substitute ham hocks for turkey wings or eat salads like lazy people. Where's the skill in that? That's not enough to do! Who are we kidding?
And did you even know that only The Negro is getting these cushy subsidies? Not one white person has ever been on government assistance of any sort. There are jobs flowing like milk and honey around here but white liberals would rather give The Negro food stamps and checks from mysterious sources. They just like giving shit away. Nobody's ever hungry in America! Not even poor white folks.
Ah, but back in the day food never went to waste. Eyeballs, intestines and hog testicles! Yummy!
What about The Negro who has a job and no porch to sit on, you say? Those are urban legends. Not one Negro ever had a job since slavery. All their muscles are in various states of atrophy from sitting on porches all day for the past 150 years. They literally can't move their own arms anymore. I'm writing this by pounding my face on the keyboard. Without cotton picking to do, my body is useless. How sad. Everyday I cry and hope some white person will come along and give me something to do and not pay me for it. I could have had six-pack abs by now instead of being this Wall-E styled blob of a human with no muscle mass to speak of.
Oh well, it's a nice dream. In the meantime, I'll just sit here and wait on my white guilt subsidy check from some mysterious liberal source (maybe George Soros?) and wait for white people to drive past here and shake their heads disapprovingly at me having nothing to do.
Maybe they'll feel sorry for me and put me back in slavery if I sit here long enough. Surely, those wise white folks know just one more thing about The Negro that white liberals have yet to learn. Until then, I'll pine for the freedom my ancestors used to have as unpaid laborers and be bitter towards white liberals and the Union Army. White liberals need to mind their own business instead of marching into the south with their uppity ideas that I should be "free" and left on a porch to do nothing all day. Who even asked them?
(Thanks for reading. If it seems a little all-over-the-place, it's because I had a hard time reconciling the illogical racist statements of Cliven Bundy with a scenario that was satirical enough to illustrate it. His statements are contradictory so it's hard to follow and satirize his line of "logic" without being contradictory myself. In other words, this guy is so absurd, it's hard to satirize what he says because it's already unintentionally satirical. Like Tina Fey being at a loss for how to make fun of Sarah Palin and simply electing to state her words verbatim which is much funnier. Something like that. I'm still confused. lol)
http://www.dailykos.com/story/2014/04/25/1294561/-A-Day-in-the-Life-of-The-Negro-according-to-Cliven-bund
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