Negro Take The Wheel: Current Black History Month On Track To Be Blackest Of Them All.

So far February, federally mandated as the blackest month of the year which is why it’s no coincidence Palmer’s Cocoa Butter is discounted to 3/5th’s of it’s original price, has been a bona fide tour de force. It’s been so fraught with the dual hits of cultural prescience here at the Fukette offices are still figuring out exactly which forms to fill out for our emergency contact. (Mine is Judge Joe Brown. I saved his life at a Captain D’s in 2002. He owes me.)

What needs to be understood, utilizing the full capacity of intellect the American public school system has afforded you, is that each display of unadulterated blackness demonstrated over the last couple of weeks is both purposeful and powerful in it’s blatant provocation. Beyonce’s Superbowl performance showcased not only her ability to transcend the standard parameters of self-awareness most of America would think a pop artist should have, but simultaneously conceived, carried to term, and delivered a musical progeny singularly defined by its absence of fucks and its subsequent lack of being given. She is the personification of Comcast, and it’s relationship with its customers that can only be described as “meh”. She is the spirit guide to your mother when you’re both standing in the checkout lane at Kroger, and you ask her with tears in your eyes “how come that other boy’s parents let him have candy?!?”. She is the embodiment of the currently asexual relationship between Russell Wilson and Ciara. (Editor’s Note: I don’t know how the man does it. My penis would explode in a ball of flames like the Godfather if Ciara so much as asked me what movie I wanted from Redbox.) Before the American public had time to check the full scope of what their Obamacare insurance covered in the way of uber-cultural clap back, here comes Kendrick Lamar to remind us that if we have time to lean, we have time to recognize those who diminish/overlook the lingering apparition of centuries long strife and flagrant disregard for the sanctity of black and brown life. The incisive criticism, poignant commentary, and overt talent that permeated his performance has already been noted in a million different forms yet remains far beyond verbal description. It was art. It was a declaration. It was a lesson in the constructive use of power that exists within all of us.

This has all led to some pretty intensive brainstorming here at the office. In a month filled with so many exemplary presentations in how to reach peak blackness, like we’re one episode of Love & Hip-Hop away from reaching critical mass, where do we go from here? The ante has been raised for each act, and it would be a shame to lose momentum in a period where Donald Trump is still surging in the polls due to his inability to quiet the Auschwitz Day Parade of hate rolling around in his head. We think it’ll be within the public good to speculate on what moments of epic blackness we can expect. Whether it be in preparation of the senses, or just knowing at what times white people can relegate the elders of their family to a soundproofed-underground bunker that not even the negro referencing tunes of Beyonce could penetrate.

Those scenarios being:

5. Page Six Runs A Cover Which Shows Barack Obama and Oprah Rolling Dice Behind A Barbershop In South Philly. Seven Twice. Seven Twice.

I implore you to suggest an image that would be more impactful to Black America than seeing the pinnacle of black achievement (and Barack Obama) rolling dice behind a barbershop like they’re just getting a quick game in while waiting for a 12pc lemon pepper wing order at the Korean spot across the street. Nevermind that Oprah seems exactly like the type of person that would start calling people “Mark-ass bitches” whenever she starts losing, the cultural significance of that picture would guarantee it a spot as either the de facto graphic on every t-shirt sold in front of the bus station or a watercolor painting that hangs above your grandma’s fireplace.

4. Neil Degrasse Tyson Conducts An Entire TED Talk On Nothing But The Correlation Between Perceived Consciousness And The Lyrics Of Ghostface Killah’s 2007 Album The Big Doe Rehab.

Are you in possession of such an acumen that you could disprove the notion of a correlation between the two? Cause I’m not even as smart as most meth-addled third graders, but even I know that something is can still be viable in the eyes of the scientific process even if it has an infinitesimal chance of being remotely accurate. To that end, I accept this as fact, and I will slap box you to the death if you claim otherwise.

3. Childish Gambino, Pharrell, SZA, Et Al Admits That Whole “New Black” Nonsense Was Just Their Way Of Repaying The Koch Brothers For Covering The Fess They Incurred For Switching From T-Mobile To Sprint.

To those unfamiliar with the motley crew words devoid of all meaning and valid interpretation, “New Black” is right up there with “jiggery-pokery” and “George Zimmerman acquitted of all charges.” This term describes those who subscribe to the porous belief that the institutionalized racism that the has become regrettably fundamental of the black experience has taken a page out of Meek Mill’s playbook and just disappeared. These people tend to be either rich, lacking self-awareness to a criminal degree or some scandalous combination thereof. All three scenarios would enable them to live inside the Mountain Mist Febreeze scented bubble of their ill-informed ideas and, consequently, spout such tone-deaf garbage so galling that, if it were a Facebook status, even Cliven Bundy would be forced to comment with a sharp yet succinct reply of “Bruh?”.

If the time ever comes that the politically influential yet democratically toxic duo Charles and David Koch reveal that they offered to cover the transfer fees of several Rap and R&B artists that decided to switch cellphone providers, well, that would explain a lot. I can’t exactly say that I would be willing to denigrate the experience of several hundred thousand consumers of my creative artistry but, there’s a wide menu on what I would do to save a couple hundred bucks. You know what I mean.

2. Writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie Challenges Roger Ailes On National Television To Pronounce Her Name Correctly Or Cede All Ownership Of Fox News To The Writers Of Empire. Roger Ailes Proceeds To Lose The Bet.

If there is some parallel universe where only the most fantastical, far-fetched fantasies are allowed to exist, this would be the celestial object by all other planets orbit. This incredible world where Jessica Williams is in my league, Captain Crunch doesn’t eviscerate the roof of your mouth, and Roger Ailes ceases his dominion over conservative media to a room of writers who have no concept of the word “moderation”. I can only envision a Fox News broadcast in which Megan Kelly suspects Andrea Tantaros of sleeping with her husband…and having orchestrated an assassination attempt on Megan’s life while she was in the middle of Whole Foods deciding which brand of organic quinoa bread she should buy. Oh no! Here comes Brian Kilmeade in a floor-length zebra coat, shirtless, and covered in, objectively, too much baby oil while inexplicably speaking in outdated slang yet somehow still within FCC standards for network programming.

Where is the Tardis to this world and why am I not there!?!

1. Michelle Obama Announces Her Candidacy For President Of The United States.

While I say this in jest because you know as well as I do: the only things I’m qualified for is vaginal water aerobics and competitive Alpaca racing. Neither of those illustrious and surprisingly difficult skill sets allows for political punditry but much like a sexual proposition at 4:30 am in the middle of Magic City, I’ll give it a try.

I would not accuse Michelle Obama of seeking aggrandizement either of a political or self-serving nature throughout her husband’s administration. All first ladies have chosen a particular cause/objective to champion from Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No” campaign all the way back to Mary Todd Lincoln’s “Turn Down For What” crusade of 1864, and Michelle Obama is no different. It would be naive to think that she and her team didn’t pick as inoffensive, non-threatening, and plainly common sense cause of childhood obesity on purposeful. Just to mitigate the unlikely, yet still a remotely possible chance of becoming a target by proxy of her husband. I mean, who doesn’t want their child to avoid losing a leg to diabetes and Cheeto-stained eating choices? Apparently, everyone does. Or, to be more accurate, everyone who sees no problem in putting Michelle Obama in the line of fire between them and their animus for her husband under the guise of indignation with her proposal for healthy meals served in schools. Because of the unprecedented inflexibility and unheard of dickishness of conservatives their ilk, Michelle Obama has become a hardened veteran of the grit and grime that is American politics. Imagine the Rocky 4 training montage. Now imagine that montage happening while dealing with the backlash every time your husband gave a State of The Union. Or responded to one of the many, many mass shootings that have taken place over his time in office. Or taking fewer vacations/ issuing fewer executive decisions that any 4 of his predecessors. Or standing up the wipe his ass instead of leaning over to the side as Ronald Reagan intended.

You get the idea.

The point is that this woman has paid her due and has the scars to show for it. Whereas Hilary Clinton always had the face of a woman who is only putting up with all these intern-blowjob shenanigans to later further her political ambitions, Michelle Obama is a much shrewder player waiting in the wings. She has all the necessary instincts one would need to maneuver between jowl-wobbling man-children with extreme views on women’s bodies and the availability of fresh food to poorer children. She had been through the gauntly and has emerged ever wizened and even more poised than when she began. I wouldn’t be too surprised to see a ballot with her name opposite Anne Hathaway (cause of course she would) sometime in the near future.


Originally published at fukette.com.

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