“Dear White People”

A few months ago, Netflix announced a new TV show that’s based on a movie also called, "Dear White People", and white America lost it—even though the show ain’t about them. So, in honor of its release this week, I wrote the following that has absolutely nothing to do with the show (well, I haven’t watched it yet, so I don’t know if that’s true).

Dear white people—yes, I said it, and I don't mean all y'all, but more like most of y'all— Stop fricking asking me to be your respectable negro, because I'm not. All the "Dude, you need to be more positive...You posting too much about equal rights, so stop with the hate rhetoric...I'm tired of seeing these racial and political polarizing posts...Use your voice to help uplift your community…Racism will always exist, deal with it"—yes, someone actually said that last one—goes in one ear and out the other, because guess what? If you don't like me sharing my Shaun King videos of police pretending they're at the firing range during encounters with black people, saucy criticisms about your racist back alley Garfield Russian leader, or my exasperation of GOP politicians mimicking their klancestors, then I suggest you crawl back into your utopian world of whiteness by kindly unfollowing me.

Now, before you say I'm being crummy by alienating a good portion of my timeline, please hear me out, or don't, I really don't care; I'm referring specifically to the people who don't say diddly squat about the millions of people howling to build the largest racist monument ever, screaming Islamophobic epithets, yodeling for anti-LGBTQ bathroom laws, or MAGA yelling while hurling the N-word around like it's 1960—but feel real comfortable prancing over to my timeline to say how I need to post about bridging gaps. Are you serious? GOH. You low key racist with your silence, but I'm the one who needs to bring us together.

Sometimes I hurt my brain trying to understand why y'all are just so damn ignant. I mean, some of my people are ignant too, but y'all's a different type of ignant. At least we ok with admitting we can be ignant, but y'all will oppress an entire race and brag about it type ignant—you know the ones that say, "The Confederate flag isn't racist, it's a part of my heritage, and I'm dang on proud of it."

Recently, I had a friend tell me something that made a lot of sense. He said, "Me.... I don't even try to rationalize their thoughts. Like crackheads smoke crack... I'll never understand that"; that's when I realized, y'all are going to be narrow-minded a-holes forever and there is no need to waste my time figuring out why. And just like a crackhead, most people will avoid physical contact with you, watch you age like Kelly Ann Conway, all while you continue to wreak of a fresh dumpster dive of mayonnaise, and troll under the same bridge you asked someone else to go build.

Well, I guess that's all I have to say for now. Because I'm often irritated by the small clown box y'all live in, I really wrote this with the sole intention of pissing you off. So, in the famous words of Cameron during his talk with the sleezeball talk show pervert Bill O'Reilly, "you mad?"

The author of this post is not a racist. He has white friends, listens to podcasts, golfs, drinks microbrews, eats his steaks medium-rare, owns Barry Manilow vinyl, and voted twice for Barack Obama.