Why do white liberals love minstrels like Uncle Murda?
It’s a hypothetical question, really–one I already summed up about a decade ago when I wrote “Reactionary Rap and the Black Lumpenproletariat.” The answer to the question is the same answer as to why the record industry has been pushing this slop on the public (especially Black youth) for the past 35 years.
“Drill” Music, in reality, is just revamped and reconstituted Thug Rap for the 21st century. “Drill” music is simply Thug Rap unfiltered, with no ideological, cultural or spiritual pretenses (unlike, say, Tupac or Wu-Tang Clan). All attempts at sounding logical, lyrical or intelligent have been tossed out the window, and now all you have are unapologetically stupid, dirty, ignorant, sexually perverted, violent coloreds (such as the late King Von, to cite one pathetic example) who babble on and on about–well, killing each other. A few of the lyrics listed below should speak for themselves:
Fuckers in school telling me, always in the barber shop
“Chief Keef ain’t ’bout this, Chief ain’t ’bout that”
My boy a BD on fucking Lamron and them
He, he, they say that nigga don’t be putting in no work
Shut the fuck up, y’all niggas ain’t know shit
All y’all motherfuckers talkin’ about
“Chief Keef ain’t no hitter, Chief Keef ain’t this, Chief Keef a fake”
Shut the fuck up, y’all don’t live with that nigga
Y’all know that nigga got caught with a ratchet
Shootin’ at the police and shit
Nigga been on probation since fuckin’ I don’t know when
Motherfucker, stop fuckin’ playin’ him like that
Them niggas savages out there
If I catch another motherfucker talking sweet about Chief Keef
I’m fucking beatin’ they ass, I’m not fucking playin’ no more
Know them niggas roll with Lil Reese and them
(Young Chop on the beat)
From “Love Sosa” by Chief Keef
Niggas call me Bloodas just like Tee out here (Let’s get it)
Opps be calling Foenem phone, say I don’t be out here (L’s)
Catch him, knock his noodles back, just don’t tweak out here (B-r-r-r-ah)
Foenem slidin, late night hunting, ain’t no sleep out here (Skrt, skrt, skrt)
2 days back to back, that’s 50 racks to be out here (On God)
Can’t have no fefe on yo block as long as Steve out here (B-r-r-r-ah)
Can’t try to slide inside a fish bowl, you got beef out here (Psh)
Law keep wanting to get Zoo out the way, they say he a Chief out here
(Say he a chief out here)
Niggas hoes, they tuck they tails ’cause they be scared (They be scared)
In that Hellcat, on the e-way, off them meds (Off the meds)
Say his name inside this song, my bro said I better not say it
(I better not say it)
Niggas low key want that smoke, you do, you better not say it
(Better not say it)
Get yo ass back in that house, we got FN not 9’s (Not 9’s)
My credit so A1 with killas, I be payin’ my fines (My fines)
Opps be on my dick in songs but I don’t pay them no mind (Pussy)
All them hoes that be with the opps, gang done broke they spine
All the crackers get robbed for they shit, they buy it back (Buy back)
I keep my Glock in her Chanel, that shit cost 5 racks (Shit cost 5 racks)
All these hoes be goin’ for real low-key, just buy them X (Just buy ’em X)
He got shot up in his shit, I hear he tryna flex (Tryna flex)
Never care so much, ran out of woods, just pass the Dutch (Pass the Dutch)
Your homies died, you don’t never slide, it ain’t adding up (It ain’t addin’ up)
Get caught with a pipe, you out same night, you fed or what?
(You fed or what?)
New opp pack in the air, this gas or what?
From “No Auto Durk” by Only the Family
Just got some top, from this stripper bitch
She from Kankakee
Just bought a Glock, with a ruler clip
Boy, don’t play with me
This bitch a ho, met her at store
You know how it goes
She wanna smoke, so I bought some dope
And took her to the O
Just got some top, from this stripper bitch
She from Kankakee
Just bought a Glock, with a ruler clip
Boy, don’t play with me
This bitch a ho, met her at the store
You know how it goes
She wanna smoke, so I bought some dope
And took her to the O
From “Took Her to The O” by King Von
By contrast to this mindless, incoherent drivel T.I.–not one of the most enlightened minds in the Black Culture Industrial Complex (something which is not controlled by Black people)–literally reads like Shakespeare:
I’m the opposite of moderate,
Immaculately polished with the spirit of a hustler and the swagger of a college kid.
Allergic to the counterfeit, impartial to the politics.
Articulate but still would grab a nigga by the collar quick.
Whoever having problems with their record sales just holla tip.
If that don’t work and all else fails, then turn around and follow tip.
I got love for the game but ay I’m not in love with all of it.
Could do without the fame and the rappers nowadays are comedy.
The hootin’ and the hollerin’ back and forth with the arguing.
Where you from, who you know, what you make and what kind of car you in.
Seems as though you lost sight of what’s important when depositin’.
The cheques into your bank account and you up out of poverty.
Your values is a disarray, prioritizing horribly.
Unhappy with the riches ’cause your piss poor morally.
Ignoring all prior advice and fore warning.
And we mighty full of ourselves all of a sudden aren’t we?
T.I. (featuring Rihanna), Live Your Life
No explanation needed here, right?
I have noticed that precious few people have actively criticized Drill music. (Since “Thug Rap” is effectively dead, criticizing it doesn’t carry much weight these days.) There are several reasons for this, I suspect–one being that most of these so-called “rappers” are really cold-blooded killers actually boasting of the crimes they have either committed or will commit. They have absolutely no moral compass and no talent whatever (generally speaking) and the vast majority can’t even keep time–not that they actually give a fuck.
Having said that, I definitely do not believe in censoring these “rappers.” They should be allowed to spit out their retarded word salads unimpeded by censorship laws. Why? For the simple reason that the same people who wish to censor Drill also wish to censor Black Writer in Berlin. In fact the neocons are even more keen on censoring people like me because–let’s face it–we have brains. (Chief Keef clearly has none.) However, in the face of this obnoxious “cancel culture” (coming from both wings of the same dirty political bird) we who have brains will have to put up with this dumb darkie for the time being (at least until he winds up in prison).
Drill Rap is extremely popular in the UK for reasons that are more obvious to me than to the writer of this article. Never mind that Irish, Italian, Turkish, Thai, Chinese, Senegalese, Brazilian and Indian drill rappers pop up like dandelions all over the globe (and why not? One doesn’t need any talent at all to become a “drill rapper,” unlike, say, Hopsin or Immortal Technique, let alone Chuck D)–the main impetus behind this mushrooming of Drill is for the same reasons the zoomer’s grandparents wore Afro-wigs and platform shoes in the seventies: everybody loves The Negro, wants to act out The Negro fantasy–yet nobody really wants to be “The Negro.”
WHY WHITE LIBERALS LOVE “DRILL” SWILL
It’s a common saying, thrown about online–mostly by understandably cynical Black people leery of this odd love affair that the non-Black world has with “Black Culture” (which is, sadly, generally what everybody but Black people think of “Black Culture”). Ralph Ellison summed it up best 45 years ago when he wrote that to most non-Blacks (as well as many, many Blacks themselves) “Black Culture” was simply a “projection,” an “identification” of Afro-Americanness with what non-Blacks feel to be “socially unacceptable,” with their own “repressed psychological drives.” That’s why every time I see German cornballs over here in Berlin affecting what they think is “Blackness” my first impulse is to laugh in their fucking faces. This phenomenon isn’t really funny at all, but absurdity (and what else is racism but absurdity carried to its most extreme?) can make one chuckle from time to time.
Yes, it is absurd to see British educators resorting to using ignorant Drill music in order to keep Black British kids from killing each other. (Apparently, it works.) RoadWorks may be snatching these kids out of the jaws of the British penal system (or from an early grave) but they (and Kameron Virk) don’t seem to be keen on pushing Black British minds beyond the extremely narrow (and very primitive and childlike) confines of “Drill.” And naturally no one need question why such a thing as “Drill” needs to exist. Black people–contrary to what colored people think–certainly do not need it. It is not expressing their “reality;” Black reality is not defined by Chief Keef and his dumbass “Opps be on my dick in songs but I don’t pay them no mind (Pussy)“. No: Chief Keef defines NEGRO REALITY.
Negro Reality, in a nutshell, is defined by filth, violence, ignorance, ugliness, sin–precisely those components that make up the entirety of “Drill.” The Negro Reality, of course, is the polar opposite of White Reality. As Zia Sardar writes in Fanon and the Epidemiology of Oppression, “Whiteness, Fanon asserts, has become a symbol of purity, of Justice, Truth, Virginity. It defines what it means to be civilised, modern and human. That is why the Negro knows nothing of the cost of freedom; when he has fought for Liberty and Justice… these were always white liberty and white justice ; that is, values secreted by his masters. Blackness represents the diametrical opposite : in the collective unconsciousness, it stands for ugliness, sin, darkness, immorality. Even the dictionary definition of white means clean and pure.” Drill music, like its addle-brained predecessor Thug Rap, simply reinforces all the old slavery-time/colonial definitions of what means to be African–only this time, as I’ve said, all the intellectual and moral padding that one can find in Tupac, Biggie Smalls or even 50 Cent is sliced out.
They, white leftists and rightists, are in love with The Negro–a creature that most Black people (and not just leftists) have been at war with ever since white racists created him. Very often you will hear a Black person saying “I can’t stand niggers,” or that “niggers” make him/her sick. Actually it isn’t so much self-hate as it is an implicit and often unconscious rejection of that thing called The Negro. “The idealised Negro is equally a construction of the white man,” writes Sardar. “He represents the flip side of the Enlightenment : he is constructed not as a real person with real history but an image. The idealised Negro, the noble savage, is the product of utopian thinkers, such as Sir Thomas Moore, who comes from ‘No place’ and is in the end ‘No person’. This Negro was born out of the need of European humanism to rescue itself from its moral purgatory and project itself, and displace, the original inhabitants of Latin America and the Caribbean.” So it is only natural that any intelligent Black person looking at a fool like Chief Keef (or King Von) would turn up his or her nose. As I begin to recognize that the Negro is the symbol of sin, I catch myself hating The Negro.*
“Here, Fanon is articulating a common feeling,” Zadar continues. “If all you represent – your history, your culture, your very self – is nothing but ugly, naïve and wicked, then it is not surprising that you do not see yourself in a kindly manner. But this neurotic situation is not the route to emancipation. There is only one solution : to raise above the absurd drama that others have staged around me, to reject the two terms that are equally unacceptable, and, through one human being, to reach out for the universal.”
However, this last bit hasn’t happened–least of all with the African American. In America (as elsewhere) the Black person has remained trapped inside the disgusting image/reality/condition called The Negro–much like the figure in Baraka’s poem “An Agony. As Now,” a being stuck “inside someone who hates me,” endlessly turning round and round from generation to generation on the hamster wheel of an ugly, violent, nauseating fantasy…a fantasy that can only be numbed by intoxication or terminated by death. Hence: the very existence of “Drill” music.
*Zia Sardar, “Fanon and the Epidemiology of Oppression,” lundi 30 novembre 2009, Frantz Fanon Intrnational http://www.frantzfanoninternational.org/Fanon-and-the-Epidemiology-of-Oppression
A Black Writer in Berlin 