Any time I see some white homeless person begging on a street corner, I’m tempted to beat him worse than Andre Johnson beat Cortland Finnegan on Sunday.
Little is as repulsive as a begging white American. And the only time and way that things can get worse is when they beg of Blacks.
I once kicked a white bum right in the chest. I was at an outdoor cash machine on 54th and 6th Avenue in Manhattan and he asked me for some loot. I told him I didn’t have any—which was true; for him, I didn’t—and he called me a “devil”.
Now, I’m not actually bragging about having kicked a man, in retrospect, I’m really quite ashamed, but you gotta understand what kind of head I was on at the time.
I had just finished reading Message to the Black Man in America and whether or not you choose to believe it, all intake has affect.
Just like your diet affects your internal organs, your reading affects your psyche.
So that white bum called me the one thing that was, at that time, exactly and specifically the wrong thing to call me and my reaction, though regrettable, was certainly not random.
Now, back to my point: a lot of work has gone in towards ensuring that Black people are and remain eternally America’s second-class citizens.
One of the tenets of this work makes it imperative that we remain poor.
The flip side, of course, is that white people should, at all times be, comparatively at least, rich.
So when I see a white bum, I see a fundamental breakdown in the American Way.
And that makes me sad.
Then, of course, I become outraged whenever one of these white bums upturns an outstretched begging hand toward me.
I wanna scream You got 400 years of free labor outta my ancestors now you wanna hit me up for my N-Word pennies? You’ve got some nerve!
But I don’t.
Sometimes, I even give them a dollar or two.