So, last week, I read “The Willie Lynch Letter” and, of course, I’ve got a problem with it.
But, probably not the problem you guys probably think I SHOULD have.
The problem I have with “The Willie Lynch Letter” is that this shyt is STILL in print for us, Negroes, to go back and read and fill our heads with BULLSHIT and crap and to be able to come up with a
useless excuse to do the LEAST of what we can and then have someone (else) to blame our silliness on.
This stuff was written in 1792. Today is 2012.
Two hundred and twenty (220!!!) years ago a white man wrote a letter to other white men to tell them how to get control over their slave population so that their crops could be properly cultivated. THAT was the way those men thought and operated during those times.
I’m in NO WAY trying to excuse the behavior. NO WAY! But, that was the way of the world then. It wasn’t right, but that’s the way it was. There’s nothing that could be done about it then and there’s nothing that can be done about it now. That’s just the way it was. There’s no reason that the Lynch letter should STILL be accessible for public consumption by readers today.
Do you really think that TODAY white people are going to the library to look up Lynch’s letter to see how better to manipulate the blacks of the world today?
I’m sure that there MAY be some that do, but I highly doubt that any of these people we so despise, dislike, can’t stand, and wanna punch in the face are looking it up, referencing it today. (Call me naive if you want, I don’t care.)
BUT, black people NEED this letter. They NEED to educate each other on the white man’s “mindset” in order to hold on to the general oppressive feelings we hold to make sure that when we degrade EACH OTHER, we have some (else) to blame.
I can’t stand it and it pisses me off that after all the fighting, speeches, jail time, marches, death and other shyt so many black (and white) people have endured to get us PAST shyt like the Lynch letter, we STILL need to be an “oppressed” people. But, what really burns my ass is that we REFUSE to admit that the MAJORITY of our oppression comes from ourselves!
We are oppressing each other because we don’t know any other way to live.
That’s what I’ve ALWAYS thought. And I’m always going to think that way, I’m sure.
A lot of you guys will say that that’s because that’s how Willie Lynch wanted it to be. And you know what? I’d completely agree with you. That’s how the man NEEDED it to be—220 years ago!
220 years ago, white people thought they were God and needed black people to work their lands without running off and without the basic rights that all people should have had forever since the beginning of time. BUT, today…..
TODAY we NEED to turn that around and find a way to be CONTINUALLY UNITED with each other.
But that’s never going to happen because, for us, progress just isn’t claimed that way. Our progress has to be singular, personal, and never involving another soul.
We can give Willie Lynch credit for keeping us separated, at each other’s throats, and divided by skin color, female vs. male, dominance vs. independence, and whatnot, but we can’t, WON’T, give credit to each other for uniting and coming together because of and in spite of those same above criteria.
I’m ashamed at myself for being THAT curious to even have paid Amazon.com $2.99 to read “The Willie Lynch Letter.” But, I now understand the mindset and reasoning of my fellow black people for being such a hard-headed, difficult to please, and (excuse my sarcasm) lazy people.
We always have a chance to rise above the pitfall that the Willie Lynch Letter is, but we continue to pass the poison around so that everyone gets a good enough dose to keep the hatred moving around our own people. We don’t hold as much hate toward any other race of people, not even white people, as we hold against ourselves…and in my opinion, the reason we have this hatred is because we’re afraid of what we might actually be if we united and looked beyond what we’ve been allowed to see thus far in life.
We have a reason, even if we HATE the reason.