Popular Black culture is like the
Pornhub web portal that makes the whole world cum. Its ambassadors are Orgasm Inducing
Organisms (OIO) who are more commonly known as “Black People.” These Black
ambassadors are the disenfranchised ghetto occupants who make panties and thongs
moist while facilitating flaring penile erections dripping with precious precum for golden goblets.
Many non-Black humans resent Orgasm
Inducing Organisms while patronizing their romping shops of erotic pleasure. The
OIO is despised by the haughty Homo Erectus. Still, the OIO will always exist,
because they make the world cum hard. The global economy is fueled by vaginal
spasms and wild ejaculations of white-hot semen.
Within the context of this blog
post, the Homo Erectus is not the familiar relic of Darwinian theories of
evolution. Instead it is one who actively, or passively, supports the creation
of simulacra. A simulacra is a caricature, an external representation of The Real that is
falsely made to appear to be The Real.
The Homo Erectus is eager to stroke
the object of its desire without truly penetrating the creamy core of allure.
Lay back while I disrobe my thesis. I won’t hesitate to spill for the thrill.
Today, white soccer moms are
twerking, Asian teenage boys are making trap music, middle aged white men are
doing the dab, and pale-skinned Arabs are enthusiastically participating in the
Keke Challenge. Hip Hop is just one expression of Black pop culture, and it is
at the center of the larger world culture. Hip hop music is played in elite
nightclubs, strip clubs, commercials,
television shows, movies, shopping malls and at sporting events. Hip hop slang is used in New York Times articles concerning global politics.
At some point, everyone has
watched video pornography by choice, but many won’t talk about it simply because
it made them cum. In like manner, the entire planet is immersed in some form of Black pop
culture. However they may not make it a topic of conversation among Orgasm
Inducing Organisms who shape and mold world culture by making everyone in the world cum. They do
this through the arts of biomysticism that only organic Black bodies can
practice.
The Homo Erectus breaking its
silence would be like seeing the pornstar you regularly jerk off to in the
street, walking up to them, and telling them to their face that you masturbate
to their image on a regular basis. This would be uncomfortable for the indulger
who normally sees the pornstar as a sexual fetish tool, a mere means to Get Off,
like that classic Prince song.
Suddenly the direct encounter
has the watcher entertaining the remote possibility that the pornstar isn’t
just an empty husk for their personal pleasure, but an actual human being with
complex feelings, thoughts, and other internal dynamics. No good.
Rather than face this
inconvenient truth, the Homo Erectus hides its seething lust for the pornstar
while in the pornstar’s immediate presence. They hold on to the simulacra, the
external vestiges of who the pornstar is, by interacting with them superficially and exclusively through pornographic web portals.
The Homo Erectus never
penetrates the shell to get to the true core of the pornstar because the only thing they ever desired
from the start was a superficial relationship with them, a simulacra of
intimacy. This aptly describes the relationship that many non-Blacks have with
popular Black culture, most notably, through contemporary hip hop.
Racism is a violent resentment
of one’s projected homoerotic desires.
Rather than express this resentment towards the self, the hater transfers
their hatred to The Other, the mysterious object of their desire. The Other is an OIO. The racist looks at the OIO and
sees both the height of his inherent potential and that which he will never be
at the same time. They love what makes them cum so they want to own it as a
tangible possession for eternity, but they can’t.
The Homo Erectus, true to its name, erects an entire civilization that is a
projection of its ideal self—a glossy
superficial being completely empty inside. The racist aspires to become a
living Simulacra to capture his intangible prized possession within his own
tangible being. Hence we have a nation of simulacrum, caricaturized ideals in
the form of the nigga and the swagged out Homo Erectus.
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