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 creamy 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 simulacrum, 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 simulacrum 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 Simulacrum to capture his intangible prized possession within his own tangible being. Hence we have a nation of simulacrua, caricaturized ideals in the form of the nigga and the swagged out Homo Erectus.