Could never be uttered by concerned callers to the FBI about my underprivileged Black azz without a small brigade of suits, flanked by HRT, rolling up to my front door
I, with privileges unchanged, can’t publish a YouTube video of my hypothetical chants about how much I want to kill someone — as if I’m performing a ritual to be washed in the blood of Christ, without being immediately tracked and taken down by law enforcement officers
After I’m arrested for all that chanting, the media will invariably wonder if I’m down with A***h
Every mass shooting — or threat of one — in America seems to follow the same epistemological pattern of inquiries like:
Is the shooter from Pakistan?
Police officers could never visit any African descendant’s home 23 times — or was it 39 — because of domestic and emotional disturbance episodes without any occupant in the home being shot, locked up, beat down or tazed
“has used a gun against people before”
“has put the gun to others’ heads in the past”
Could never become words spoken by my Mother or hypothetical legal guardian to a 911 dispatcher on one of those 23-or-39-too-ridiculous-to-be-hypothetical-for-a-Black-family-to-experience police visits
My Father could never say it’s the right of of his son — who suffers from a clinical cocktail of depression, ADHD and autism — to own a gun, and he then expresses zero regrets for that decision after I shoot school kids, without facing universal condemnation for his apparent don’t-give-a-f***ness outlook in life.
Speaking of can’t give a f*** — the extent to which all of you signed away your freedoms to a persuasive and desperate multi-billion-dollar bid to feed an omniauditory, ommatidial framework that can’t seem to notice a White terrorist make shoot-’em-up chants on social media under his birth name
My Dad, a hypothetical former military intelligence analyst, would have his entire career placed under media review if he admitted to seeing no signs that I was going to open fire on students
Every politico’s lobbed hope
Every passing prayer after a mass slaughter
Never seem to have a destination but some of you still go out of your way to seize them as if they’re meant for you or will keep the remaining children in America safe
Whereas, we’ve been trained to never ask the right questions — only pursue the right design, which isn’t your own, by the way
And whereas most of you aren’t going to remember this piece or the current tragedy a few weeks from now anyway …
I declare Wednesday, February 14, 2018, the subsequent days heretofore and every day hereafter, Nikolas Cruz Day.
His White privilege will be equally remembered and forgotten …
song currently stuck in my head: “lamentations” – moses sumney