That old bastard Thoreau was right: “Most men live lives of quiet desperation.” But the most dangerous kind of desperation, the most beautiful, tragic, and completely soul-crushing kind, is the one you don’t even know you’re in. It’s the one you’ve been sold as a goddamn virtue.
So let’s do a little thought exercise. Just for a minute. Step outside of the goddamn cage. Stop thinking with your emotions, with the beautiful, tribal, and completely programmed rage they’ve fed you your whole life. That’s where they get you. The more you’re emotionally attached to your race, your party, your victimhood, the easier you are to control.
Let’s look at this thing critically. That’s where the real freedom starts.
Here’s the thing nobody wants to say out loud, the quiet, ugly, and completely honest truth of the whole goddamn show: the white liberal, the “progressive,” he is the most beautiful, efficient, and completely ruthless zookeeper the world has ever seen. Malcolm X, a man who wasn’t afraid to call a spade a goddamn spade, he said the white liberal was the worst enemy to the black man. And he was right.
Why? Because the conservative, he’ll at least tell you he’s coming to fuck you over. The liberal? He’ll fuck you over while telling you he’s doing it for your own good.
His purpose, his entire goddamn function, is to perpetuate a system that keeps the black man dependent on him. Because you can’t be dependent and free at the same time. That’s the part that gets stuck in your teeth. Once they control what you eat, where you live, and how you think, they don’t need chains anymore. They just need to control the goddamn food bowl.
They’ve confused education with indoctrination. They’ve spent fifty years teaching a whole race of beautiful, strong, and completely capable people that they are “inferior,” and therefore, they must “receive.” That’s the last stage of colonization, my friend. The final chain, the one they lock around your goddamn mind. The quiet, constant, and completely soul-crushing insistence that you are a victim, that you are broken, that you cannot possibly make it without their gentle, guiding, and completely condescending hand.
Shelby Steele, a smart bastard, he called it. He said white guilt didn’t free Black America; it infantilized it. It turned grown men into children. It allowed the white liberal to step in and play the role they’ve always craved: the noble caretaker, the zookeeper, the patient, loving, and completely superior parent to a child who will never, ever be allowed to grow up. They get to be your caretaker, never your equal.
And the more you play the game, the more you tell them they need to “give” you things to prove they’re not racist, the more you’ll “receive,” and the more you’ll depend. And the more you depend, the more you reinforce the same, beautiful, ugly, and completely fraudulent lie that you’re inferior in the first place.
It never stops. Because dependency isn’t progress. It’s slavery, dressed up in the pretty, quiet, and completely respectable clothes of compassion.
When you depend on the system, you are controlled by the system. And control is the exact, goddamn opposite of freedom.
The more you rely on them for the check, the more you’ll vote for the check. It’s not about progress. It’s not about excellence. It’s about profit and power. Your power. Their profit. Your vote. Their control.
Freedom, real freedom, it’s not the reward for “moral innocence.” It’s not a goddamn handout they give you because you’re a professional victim. Freedom is the reward for moral responsibility. It’s the ugly, beautiful, and completely necessary business of taking your own goddamn life back.
So stop spending all your time scrolling through those three-minute videos that are just reinforcing the bars of your own goddamn cage. Start reading the shit that makes you uncomfortable. Start thinking the thoughts that feel dangerous.
Slavery was, and still is, psychological.
Stop pointing your goddamn finger and asking for a reparations check. Stop going to the white liberal for money and then complaining about his power. You can’t ask your master for the keys to the plantation and then get mad because he still owns the goddamn house.
Change your mindset.
Break the goddamn jar.
