What could possibly be wrong with an organization that calls itself “Black Lives Matter?” Of course black lives matter! Only a bigotty, mean-old racist could object to that. Right? It’s a great handle for a “social justice” movement, but then again, like “Black Lives Matter” itself, “social justice” is a beautiful example of what author George Orwell in his dystopian-future novel, 1984, called, “Newspeak,” or “Doublethink,” which is language designed by a manipulative nanny-state run by “Big Brother,” that deliberately obscures, disguises, distorts, or reverses the actual, very negative meaning of the thing being described.
Some have parodied the mission of Black Lives Matter with the epithet: “Black Lies Matter.” Some very prominent “black” community spokesmen and women have done so. But, why would even some black Civil Rights leaders make this sort of negative dismissal of a movement founded to stop the universal, systemic culture of blatantly racist police brutality and murder, that is targeting young black males, and black people in general, putting the entire black community under threat of extinction? To answer this question fully, we first have to go back as best we can and try to uncover just who this group really is, and where it came from. The short answer for now is, critics are calling BLM “liars,” because there is no systemic, predatory vendetta by “the cops” to exterminate young black males, or the “black community” in general. This empirical reality has been amply established by the legal proceedings, the social and crime statistics related to every single “poster child” the movement has singled out as a clear example of their premise.
Many Black Lives Matter apologists will try to tell you that they are simply part of the ongoing Civil Rights Movement’s continuous struggle, as started by the likes of Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, and the Reverend Ralph Abernathy. The truth is, Black Lives Matter is a Millennial phenomenon made up of politically useful idiots who’ve been brainwashed by a variety of black race-hustlers and white “progressive” academic dogmatists who’ve canonized a litany of quazi-Marxist, “black liberation” buzzwords and enabling rationalizations so the “black community” will remain dependent upon mainstream, liberal Democratic governmental handouts, “protected class” legislation and social programs, rather than become true, self-sustaining, self-actualized human beings and free American citizens with full self-determination.
Dr. King had a dream–a “color blind” society where children black and white grow up together to be judged by the “content of their character,” not the color of their skin. Malcolm X gave up his delusions of black separatism and embraced the promise of America and demanded a full share of it for his people–as was their right as Americans. The precursors of these recently departed Civil Rights warriors, the original black Americans, who made their arguments as former slaves, actual full victims of “white” exploitation by actual, bona fide “racists,”(who believed they were fundamentally, spiritually, intellectually inferior creatures because of their race,) likewise argued against being returned “home” to Africa, refused to be separated from or independent of the greater “white” culture and American population, and did not preach of the eternal separation of “white” and “black” races as an unresolveable conflict. They demanded instead their full rights as American citizens.
The spoiled, “bougie black” grad students and self-hating white, neo-hippie/hipster Millennials that feed the power core of the Black Lives Matter movement, don’t know anything about Fredrick Douglas, or that Malcolm X morphed into El Hajj Malik El Shabazz–a man with a vision of all races and nations united under the peaceful surrender to Allah. If they’re lucky they have a rough understanding of the NAACP, Jesse Jackson, and unfortunately, the “Reverend” Al Sharpton, all of whom were once well-meaning guys, but bluntly put, were not the movers and the shakers of the historic Civil Rights battles fought not so long ago. They amount essentially to mere hangers-on during the actual heart of the “struggle.” Many, like Sharpton, eventually devolved into blatant frauds and race-baiters who now openly fabricate racial strife for a living. But the entire company of them at best, are vestiges of an obsolete, self-defeating “progressive” approach to solving the problems of poverty, education, and productivity in the “black community.” (Again “progressive” is Newspeak for “status quo.”)
During Barack Obama’s first campaign, Jesse Jackson for example, commented that he’d like to castrate Obama. (Basically as an “uppity Nixxer” who was talking down to black folks about not taking enough personal responsibility for their lives and communities.) He was photographed weeping, months later at Obama’s inaugural. Whether this is in joy of Obama’s historic election, or just in the sudden realization that he was out of a gig, is anyone’s guess.
On a bizarre note, Black Lives Matter elements have now even gone so far as to turn on Al Sharpton and his ilk, calling them “House Nixxers” and correctly identifying them as parasites manipulating the black community into relying on them for help, while all they do instead is to extort a handsome living from “The Man,” and revel in fame and fortune off the backs of their daily travails. While on the one hand this should be a positive development, on the other hand, it appears this comes not so much from a true understanding of things as they are and have been, but is a sign that the BLM congregation seeks an even more hysterical, violent, and disruptive mission statement, and constitutes an open rejection of the formerly central ideals of “equality,” and the guarantee of full Constitutional civil rights for all, in favor of the black supremacist, black separatist rationales that had been long dismissed as failed, lesser, fringe ideologies during the real Civil Rights Movement.
While openly welcomed, even courted, on self-declared “liberal” college campuses, the Black Lives Matter culture is an intellectually dishonest, morally disingenuous, immature and sophomoric collection of spoiled black Millennial slave-fantasy live action role-play enthusiasts, and 60’s protest re-enactors. These catered simpletons equate 400 years of brutal slavery, the barbaric torture and murder of Emmett Till for merely whistling at a white woman, to Oprah Winfrey being shown an $18,000.00 production model designer purse in an exclusive Zürich boutique, instead of the clerk reaching up and handing her the one-of-a-kind, custom, $40,000.00 original she wanted to oggle. This insanity is enabled and sustained by a couple of generations of white-liberal guilt in both administrative and professorial academia, which has translated into the systematic production of the current generation of openly self-hating white Millenials who wake up each morning fretting and weeping about how they can find some way to redeem themselves via a formal, public abdication of their “white privilege.”
A recent example of the BLM Millennial archetype at the University of Missouri, “Mizzou” (MiZoo as I call it) as the president of the Student Union, tried to get a campus-wide crisis going because of a “poo” swastika somebody smeared on a dorm bathroom wall. (This is apparently the only verifiable incident in the entire list of petty complaints that followed.) Payton Head, a near-graduate student funded by a wealthyfather, went on to claim that he’d heard someone call him a “nixxer” while listening to an outdoor choir. He then claimed he heard somebody going by in a pickup shout “nixxer” out the window. Not satisfied with the lack of a complete and immediate campus shakedown, he advanced his rhetoric to claiming there was a KKK death squad sneaking around campus, looking into dorm windows, and threatening to kill every black person they see inside. (He later confessed to making that one up.)
It might also be well to keep in mind, that Mr. Head, the much-oppressed black president of the Student Union, served on this esteemed body with 4 other black students and only one white member. How uninclusive that institution must be! I guess being homecoming king, like being the first black president of the United States, is just another sign of white privilege. Somehow.
(But then again, some of these folks will tell you that Barack Hussein Obama is not really the nation’s first black president–he’s not really the president at all, and the “white power structure” dances him around like a puppet to distract the oppressed black masses, while the “Man” does what he wants, and won’t let Obama do anything meaningful at all. Others will call him a sellout “Tom,” and “head nigga in charge.” The “house boy.”)
After weeks of silly Mizzou campus demonstrations, which culminated in things like black mobs throwing white students out of the library because they didn’t feel “safe” with white kids in there, and a central-square mob led by a green-clad, ginger-white pixie woman from the media studies department, who rallied a gang over to threaten away reporters, the president of the university resigned. There followed a list of asinine demands which as far as I know are currently being humored by the subsequent management.
If there’s no connection to or continuous social or organizational legacy connecting past civil rights agencies, personalities, leaders and traditions, where did Black Lives Matter come from then? That’s the question of the day, because it didn’t come entirely from one source and at best is very loosely organized, if coordinated or organizationally connected at all from one local version of this group to another, all across the nation. It gets funding from professional mob protest enthusiasts from the Left, Democratic Party donor bases and other liberal corporations like Google. But apart from taking money from wherever it can get it, Black Lives Matter is truly a “grass roots,” phenomenon. Or “gutter roots.” This is not to say there aren’t professional figureheads involved and background funding foundations with agendas both open and camouflaged.
Following the money funneling into it is far easier than discerning the organizational chart of Black Lives Matter. It’s a bit like the Tea Party Movement. There is no “The Tea Party.” It’s a “Movement,” its affiliates use the moniker “Tea Party” in common as a sign of unity in purpose, but in reality it’s just a bunch of separate clubs doing each its own thing with no national or overall governing body.
There was no known “big meeting” to kick it off, but there were a couple of precursor national events that set the tone and indirectly led to the formation of the Black Lives Matter movement. One notable preview of what was to come, was when Professor Henry Louise Gates threw a hissy fit when a neighbor reported a man breaking into his house, the cops arrived, and found Gates breaking into his own house. Gates got arrested for disorderly conduct. Barack Obama took political advantage of the situation to say, “The Cambridge police behaved stupidly.” The fact is, the Cambridge police behaved calmly and quite
professionally in that encounter, and it was Louis Gates who lost his cool, pissed off probably more that the cops didn’t recognize him from his world-famous PBS series on genealogy, than their “racist” suspicion that he was breaking into his house because he was seen breaking into his house. Obama never backed off, but he moved to effect a conciliatory, and very staged “beer summit.” It’s fairly clear from the cop’s demeanor that he attended the president’s invitation only because his police chief ordered him
to go meet with Gates and Obama in the rose garden for a drink to kiss and make up. (And probably clinch that federal purchase of war surplus heavy vehicles and automatic weapons.) But that set the tone from the top down—the president had your “black” back. At long last the “black community” had a champion in the White House. This seemed to embolden the next series of racial “discrimination” claims that suddenly sprayed forth from all directions. With the blessing of the first black president, a media eager to advance the liberal agenda, and the proven effectiveness of what became known as the “race card,” it was open season for claims of racial discrimination. Every black thug, crook, cheat, bad driver and socially retarded idiot was pulling it with pride as trump for any situation dealing with white folk, especially white authority figures. For example, Danielle Watts, a featured performer in Django Unchained, claimed she’d been arrested and roughed-up for merely kissing her white boyfriend in public, and called a “whore” because the cops thought her boyfriend was a “John.” That incident naturally, turned out to be entirely bogus, as the whole thing was videotaped and she’d been photographed from an overlooking office having vigorous sex half-in-half-out of her car. Eventually she was court-ordered to issue an apology to the LAPD.
On the white, ultra-liberal, loonie Leftie side of the BLM movement, the precursors were first, the “anarchists,” who protested the World Trade Organization and tore the hell out of Seattle, played silly buggers all during the Republican National Convention in St. Paul, and then fizzled or drizzled into the Occupy Wallstreet movement, which Petered out into a general “Occupy…..” whatever movement. (I think all they needed was a good bowel movement.) When all these Renta-Mob hobby protests lost their immediacy, their devotees were redirected and absorbed into the various “Justice for Trayvon,” and then “Hands up Don’t Shoot,” sorts of mobbery, and ultimately into Black Lives Matter, which emerged as the premier protest family.
The first real, African-American-based, serious practice run for what became Black Lives Matter was the “Justice for Trayvon” campaign started by the estranged parents of Trayvon Martin. This produced the “hoodie” as a cute, symbolic protest medium. “No justice, no peace,” started to re-emerge from the dim memories of the Compton riots in the early 1990’s. Rodney King was a complete stranger to Trayvon’s contemporaries, but Tracy Martin, his father, and all his gang-banging homies were right there in the thick of the “Thug Life” and “Gangsta Rapper” era. These elder statesmen led the way for their kids and grandkids, showing them how to seek a “Do the Right Thing” solution to what they considered to be a serious threat. What threat was that? At the time it wasn’t the cops. It was roving white rednecks chasing down little black children and gunning them down for daring to be black in a gated “white” community.
The narrative spun by Sybrina Fulton, Trayvon’s mother, to an almost orgasmic media that lapped it up with relish and conviction, was that little baby Trayvon was coming back from the store with Skittles and Arizona Ice Tea when the evil white racist George Zimmerman chased him down and shot him dead on his father’s front porch. And, for as long as the gleeful media, a host of lawyers and hysterical “black community” was allowed to spin that tale, a good month locally, and then for nearly two years when the local prosecutors told her she didn’t seem to have a case, so her crisis production team took the fairy tale national in a huge way. The president responded: “If I had a son, he’d look like Trayvon.” And the rumors, the innuendo, the desperate, racially-charged emotional frenzy was thus legitimized.
After a year of milking every cent they could get out of T-shirts and donations, shaking down the home owner’s association for something like three million bucks, a million each for mom and dad, and a million for the lawyers, the verdict came in. George Zimmerman was not guilty.
Oh yes, there were multiple, deep, probing, local, state, and federal investigations. The attorney general of the US was all over Zimmerman like black on a bowling ball. Nothing. Not a hint of racism. No racial elements of any kind in the whole trial. Purely self-defence.
How could that be? Because the Fulton narrative was a load of wishful thinking and horsepucky. George Zimmerman was a brown-skinned Hispanic, not a “white redneck.” He went to his senior prom with a black girlfriend. He was the resident-appointed and much respected night watch chairman for a very much mixed-race non-gated community. At the time he fired the fatal shot, according to several eye-witnesses, and later admitted by Trayvon’s girlfriend, Rachel Jeantel, Trayvon Martin was straddling his chest, pinning his arms, beating him in the face and bashing the back of his head against the concrete sidewalk. Jeantel described this as opening up a can of “whoop ass.” Trayvon wouldn’t have killed George she said on national TV, he’d just “whoop his ass.”
Turns out Trayvon Martin was a large, very fit 17-year-old, not the cute third grader shown in all the pictures in the media by the Fulton legal team and liberal propagandists. He was into mixed martial arts and enjoyed “street fighting.” He wasn’t coming back from the store, just desperately trying to get back “home,” he was milling around in the dark and rain for almost an hour, skulking near buildings and doorways, talking to his girlfriend on the phone. He was nowhere near his “daddys porch,” and made no effort to run or walk there. In fact, he seems to be the one who approached Zimmerman, who by that time was hanging around waiting for the cops to arrive in a minute or two. In order to do that, Trayvon would have had to double back, actually moving away from his alleged “daddy’s porch” destination and towards the man he was alleged to be terrified of. But then, that wasn’t his “daddy’s porch,” anyway. That was the porch of the condo of his father’s married girlfriend, and he’d only been there a few weeks. Trayvon had only just arrived that day. It wasn’t Trayvon’s neighborhood and he didn’t belong there at all—certainly not skulking around in the dark and rain. To anyone, especially a night watch commander, he was conspicuously out of place. He’d actually just been expelled from school and thrown out of his mom’s house because she couldn’t handle his misbehavior any more. At best this is a case of some sort of cockfight with one or the other of these guys escalating a mere observation into physical confrontation. Sybrina Fulton herself suggest this on national television, saying it was probably some sort of tragic misunderstanding–until her lawyers got to her and shut her up about that likelihood for purposes of getting more cash out of the deal. This was never a case of some white redneck shooting down a helpless little black baby boy for “walking black” or just wearing a hoodie.
(Although, the neighborhood had indeed been the victim of a string of crimes, thefts, robberies and rapes, perpetrated by helpless little black 17-year-olds in hoodies, so in fairness, if you’re wearing the official uniform of a local thug, it’s going to make you look like a local thug. So people might be suspicious of you sneaking around their housing complex in the dark on a rainy night.)
The Trayvon Martin media and “black community” narrative was so fundamentally dishonest that to this day nobody even knows he was not headed to the store for ice tea, but was carrying a big can of watermelon punch when he met his end.
After the trial of the century, Zimmerman was pronounced “innocent,” but after more than a year of Facebook and YouTube hit lists, New Black Panther execution orders, and celebrities like Spike Lee handing out (erroneously) George’s home address with an invitation to go finish him off, the beasts of what would soon be BLM had become emboldened, more organized, and were actively seeking the next excuse for street-theatre and riot. They found it in Ferguson Missouri. Out of the death of one Mike Brown at the hands of a police officer, evolved the “Hands up. Don’t Shoot” myth. (I say myth, but I really mean “lie.” Hence, “Black Lies Matter.”) The predictable narrative was that of a happy high school graduate, skipping down the street, minding his own business, eager to start community college in a few weeks, shot down for jaywalking, begging on his knees to surrender, hands up and trembling in fear.
Of course Mike Brown, the emerging BLM movement’s first “cop execution” poster boy, was not a “gentle giant,” as he was billed by his friends and family. He was a thug caught by a police officer who was just rolling by, as Brown was walking brazenly down the middle of the street after pulling a strong-armed robbery of a nearby convenience store, with an armload of stolen Swisher Sweets, probably headed home to load up a blunt or two with his partner in crime Dorian Johnson. When ordered out of the street onto the sidewalk, Brown basically told the cop to piss off, and when the cop cut him off with his cruiser, and tried to get out, Brown slammed the door shut on him, reached inside and tried to grab the cop’s gun. The gun fired once in the car, and after a scuffle the cop got out and resumed firing, as Brown first fled, then turned back and charged the officer, whereupon he was shot dead. Naturally, that’s not the story Dorian Johnson told. After lawyering up, Johnson went crying to the willing and waiting media with the now famous “He had his hands up, begging that cop not to shoot, begging to surrender,” lie. Later interviews feature the popular line, “He shot him down like an animal.”
Now, you don’t have to take my word for it, because this once again was investigated by numerous local, state and federal agencies, including a follow-up investigation for political reasons by the nation’s first black attorney general, on the insistence of the “black community” and under the direction of America’s first black president. All of these investigations concluded, based on the witnesses, many whom are black, who actually saw the incident, that the cop’s version was pretty accurate, and Johnson’s “Hands up. Don’t Shoot” scenario never happened. This of course flew in the face of the “black community” narrative, originally authored by Dorian Johnson, and embellished by himself and thousands of hysterical fans who never saw a thing, but had no moral or ethical problem riffing off of Johnson’s fable, retelling it as if they had seen it all.
Eventually, even the “black community” of Ferguson had to give up the catchy mime act the “Hands Up. Don’t shoot.” gimmick afforded them. By the time Freddie Gray was killed in transit after being arrested in Baltimore Maryland, the “black community” was looking for an equally clever slogan, a thrilling chant, a catch phrase they could rally under in its place. Somewhere in there emerged the phrase “black lives matter,” probably first as a hashtag on Twitter. It made a great poster. And it was more media friendly than its contemporary jingles like, “pigs in a blanket, fry ‘em like bacon,” “burn this mutherfuxxer down,” or “kill the cracker-ass pigs.”
As I type this, of the six cops involved in the death of Freddie Gray, three white and three black, are still going through the “justice” system. One has been through a hung jury trial, and a second acquitted of all charges. The only cop actually being charged with “2nd degree depraved-heart murder” is the black driver of the van, the apparent “murder” weapon, wherein it is alleged that Gray was negligently not strapped into the back, and then deliberately “rough rided” around the neighborhood, allegedly resulting in stoving his head in with some sort of protruding bolt on the wall or floor of the metal interior.
The mayor, the city council, the police commissioner, and roughly half the police force of Baltimore are all black. It’s a liberal Democratic state, a liberal Democratic city, and the neighborhood where Gray was “cleaned off the streets” was slated by all of the above for “urban renewal” and the spending of 1.8 billion dollars gifted to that city out of “Obama’s stash.” Oddly enough, this “black power structure” that had deliberately set about improving its own city by making an extra effort on the part of the police to take criminals like Freddie Gray off their streets, as a result of their own well-planned program, in the end, demanded a federal investigation of itself to determine if they were institutional racists. Figure that one out.
In any case, with Freddie Grey, once again what became the Black Lives Matter movement coalesced in making its case for sainted black martyrdom at the hands of the police, in the person of a well-known criminal, a local drug dealer, one of many like him the police had actually been specifically ordered to clean out of the neighborhood for the good of the “black community,” itself. And again, it’s unlikely that the officers charged with Gray’s “murder” will be convicted of anything, and certainly not the inflated, entirely political charges wielded against them by the showboating city prosecutor in an effort to pander to and placate the BLM rioters that give the mayor her marching orders.
I have the most direct experience with Black Lives Matter devotees in the two local, Saint Paul, and Minneapolis Chapters. The Saint Paul chapter is run by a young, up-and-coming grad-student caliber race hustler who seems to have sold out to the mayor and DFL (Democratic Farmer-Labor Party) powers-that-be, sort of extorting whatever concessions he’s getting under-the-table from the liberal establishment, in exchange for not shutting down the Mall of America or the airport again, and backing off shutting down the Twin Cities Marathon, probably in part due to somebody telling him it was always the Kenyans and other Africans who fly over who win it, and he’d be screwing up their qualifying times for entrance into the Boston Marathon. (And also in part due to the mayor and police chief making a very stern public declaration that they would not be handling BLM with kid gloves if they made the attempt.) The Minneapolis chapter has backed one of its chief fans, one Nekima Levy-Pounds, into election as the president of the local NAACP—much to the dismay of the plain, dumb, traditional liberals and old-school “black community” leaders. Her chief claim to fame in a neighborhood that was burned down in 1968 simply because they heard Detroit was rioting, and they figured they ought to have one of their own, is the nearly two-week siege of the 4th precinct station, shutting down a major access thoroughfare into work, food and hospital via public transit, and turning the neighborhood into a hobo camp and garbage dump, in between throwing Molotov cocktails at the cop shop and hurling long, filthy epithets and accusations at the cops guarding the fences.
True to form, the big 4th Precinct protest and most of the other anti-social mischief Levy-Pounds has sponsored have been on behalf of one Jamar Clark, a local man known for beating on his girlfriends, who was interfering with the paramedics who’d arrived to treat his latest victim. When the police arrived he refused to take his hands out of his pockets, he was taken down to forcibly handcuff him, and in the struggle managed to grab the officer’s weapon, attempting to yank if out of the holster. Clark was shot by his partner after the cop pleaded for him to do so, saying, “He’s got my gun! He’s got my gun! Shoot him! Shoot him now!”
The “black community” narrative contended that Jamar Clark was handcuffed and shot in the face at point blank range, execution style. Rather than argue yet another load of BS I’ll just say that none of that was true as proven by the video, DNA, forensic, and witness evidence. Both officers were just exonerated of any wrongdoing in the incident.
In summary, from my personal observations, what Black Lives Matter has proven itself good at is obstructing the business and peaceful, productive activities of normal American citizens for no obvious reason, with no clear relevance to its stated goal of protecting “black lives.” The “black lives” it chooses to protect from police interference, have been thus far almost exclusively criminals. The methods it chooses to employ include bullying, threatening with riot and mayhem, cursing, staging disruptive mob scenes to shut down or delay public and private activities ranging from airports, shopping malls, ball games, marathon races, winter carnivals, political rallies on both sides of the political aisle, and of course, actual riot and mayhem, including rock, battery and bottle throwing at police and counter-protesters, hurling firebombs at police stations, and the occasional potshot at the cops. I will also include nationally, the execution of several police officers. You can argue all you want that it wasn’t Black Lives Matter operatives who did these murders, but you can’t prove that it wasn’t, and any time I see a mob firebombing a police station, lighting up cop cars, looting and pillaging storefronts shouting BLM slogans, wearing BLM T-shirts, waving BLM banners, it’s a fair bet that one or two of those hysterical, filthy-mouthed, cursing animals is not above sneaking up to a cop minding his own business in his squad car, and putting a bullet in the back of his head to “even up the score.”
But the bottom line is, Black Lives Matter has it bass-ackwards. Their entire effort is concentrated on justifying and enabling the criminal class within the “black community,” while neutralizing the police agencies dedicated to keeping it under control. The numbers, the cold, hard statistics, just don’t support their singular emphasis on police interactions in the first place, nor their insistance that it is law enforcement, not the “black community” that needs to modify its behavior and mental attitude to fix the problem. Furthermore the problem illustrated in the statistics isn’t generally the cops at all–it’s the black criminal class that’s the biggest threat to the “black community,” not the cops. Why any Latter-day Saint of any color would want to even try to defend, much less run with that crowd, puzzles me.