Almost every aspect of African-American culture, from their music, their patterns of speech, their food, their life-style, their attitudes to white people, mark them out as the descendants of slaves. Slaves. Displaced and conquered people. A people who were content to, for the most part, languish in servitude until their masters decided to set them free. Much of African American culture is about dealing with the legacy of that and attempts to recover, what people do not see it if you are still dealing with the trauma of an assault you are still a victim. You can smell the slavery on them still, the brokenness, the victimhood. There are fools among them who see the slavery as a badge of honor, as if their weakling ancestors should be congratulated or pitied or somehow deserved compensation. The problem is that to any person with anything even approaching self-respect, a history of weakness is something to be ashamed of. I cannot lose sight of the fact that these people allowed themselves to be subjugated, held down, and that these genetic qualities are still present. Rebels do not survive, slinking, grinning, sneaky, hypocritical, shuck-jive yes-men do.
It takes a lot of complacency and fear to remain a slave. An absence of courage, organization, logic, willingness to fight for long-term gain, in short, the same things that keep prisoners everywhere prisoners. It’s human, the herd mentality combined with mass hysteria, and there is no reason to believe that it’s race-specific, and since the African experience in America is unique, there is no control that would disprove it’s uniqueness.
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