THE BLACK AGES
Written by: Victor E. Moseley
Email: vemoseley@landcause.com
Blue Sky: vemoseley17.bsky.social
Instagram: vemo607
Oftentimes it takes contemplating how Black folks lives have been defined for us throughout all times by people who were not Black. This truth cannot be denied no more than I can change the color of my skin nor allow myself to be categorized and lessened. Therefore, I must take this journey of discovery as all my valiant and resilient ancestors have sojourned in a world where false judgments were presented as the standard of righteousness. Righteousness added to humility with the grace of God may be the answer.
VOLUME VII: Tragedies are now shuffled like a deck of cards to see who gets the ‘High’ hand?
For the life of me I still don’t understand how Democratic candidates go to political ‘fights’ without ‘offensive’ and ‘defensive’ arsenals! That’s like sending an Army to battle without bullets and bombs. I could care less about the political talking class because they just continually embarrass themselves even when confronted by political ‘lightweights’ on the same panel. For instance.
On one of her recent shows, Abby Phillips Newsnight, had one White lady bring up a crime allegedly committed by an undocumented man. I don’t know why nobody is prepared for White people throwing down tragedies like they’re playing cards! White people have been manipulating the crimes of Black people for centuries. White people never cared about one single victim period! These are real lives at stake. Why don’t the Black political pundits come back at these White folks hard. For instance, the Black woman, Tasia Fortune, hanging from a tree in Mississippi? The Karmelo Anthony prison sentence of 30 years when White boys of the same age get far less prison time?
How about this? Tell all these fake ass holier than thou White women and men to go to the website, www.crimesolverscentral.com, and start shouting the names of those unsolved murders and missing people. When they do that then come back and talk to me. Until then, I would tell those White Supremacist leaning ‘crime baiters’ to shut their blasphemous mouths about people they never gave a shit about!
Now. Back to what I was talking about. I despise anybody that shows up to a debate with empty weapons(metaphorically of course). That shit is getting old because I’m witnessing Democratic pundits unprepared too much. Democratic candidates are starting to knock it out of the park. Always be ‘loaded for bear’ Democrats. You do know where that phrase originated right? Oh, forget it. When a grizzly bear charges at you; you’d better have enough firepower on you to stop it dead in its’ tracks! That’s where that ‘pearl of wisdom’ came from.
Even if you don’t have the skill set to ‘freestyle’ verbal combat. I’d say get a few points together in your head about life in general and keep that shit real. If another White person tries to co-op another family’s tragedy I’d be ready to knock the fuck(verbally) out they ass! ‘Oh, now you’re using the alleged crimes of a certain ethnic group to bolster your talking point. Cause you don’t give a dam about victims whereas I’ve worked tirelessly to see to it that justice is sought and meted out fairly in our court system’.
Fights’ on!
Well. That ends that edition of the Black Ages. I have a surprise for you on this posting. I’m trying my hand at a children’s story. A Black version.
Hope the children enjoy it. Let me know what you think.
—————————Blak Shuus: the Brown Octopus————————-
Prologue:
(Life is like a body of water. You try not to get wet, but the water makes sure you do. Octopus stories are filled with drama and intrigue. An octopus sure knows how to hug. Hugging comes in handy when you’re trying to make sure dinner stays where you want it to stay. Families are fun as well. Just don’t get carried away with handshakes. One wave of a tenacle will do for a greeting. Love play for population growth entangles too many tenacles, but it works.
Here is a story that teaches us that life is similar no matter where it exists. I hope you get some new ‘kicks’ out of it.).
Bousie Momma: Blak Shuus, baby. Are you checking your arms? Getting ready for swimming? Why are you flapping them so?
Blak Shuus: I have so many Momma Bou. I was just seeing if they all minded me.
Bousie Momma: Oh, so you’re not trying to shake the color off two of your tenacles?
Blak Shuus: Well Momma Bou, you taught me how to change colors, but two of the tips of my eight arms don’t match the rest of me when I want them to. Why not?
Bousie Momma: That’s because the Ocean God believed you needed extra power. To kick start you when you have to move away quickly.
Blak Shuus: Momma Bou. That’s not the deal my friends got. They look the same all around. Even when they flee from danger. Why I got to look different?
Bousie Momma: They were not given the ability you were given. When you escape. The ‘water teeth’ are more afraid of you. They can’t hold you back.
Blak Shuus: Oh Momma Bou. Not another talk about how I’m special. I command my eight arms better. You told me to watch the ocean floor for lumps. Know how to use my ‘ink’ to cover my movement.
Bousie Momma: Yes Blak Shuus. Those are lessons that help you survive. You have repeated them. Do you know why you are taught these things?
Blak Shuus: Yes Momma Bou.
Bousie Momma: Tell me.
Blak Shuus: Because the ocean and the sea do not belong to us. Nobody owns the ocean right Momma? We are residents charged with living in harmony with it. The ocean and the sea feeds us and gives us care and rest. Respecting these facts shows us how we can always have a home.
Bousie Momma: Those tenants were passed down to me and I passed them on to you. Do you believe in their truths?
Blak Shuus: Yes Momma Bou.
Bousie Momma: That is why your appearance is unique. How you came to be must first never to be questioned or hated because you don’t look like the others. Do you understand that?
Blak Shuus: I believe you Momma Bou. I understand. I just wish. I could do without the stares.
Bousie Momma: Did you ever think maybe your friends wish they had your ‘kicks’?
Blak Shuus: What do you mean Momma Bou?
Bousie Momma: Well. If that is all your friends like to talk about then you have something they wish they had. You did say you beat them swimming away every time right?
Blak Shuus: Yes. Yes I do.
Bousie Momma: Ahh. I see something has been learned today. Something else my son. All octopuses will not be the same size when all of you become adults. I wonder what those differences will mean to them then?
Blak Shuus: I guess I have to be smart about everything ‘under the water’.
Bousie Momma: As smart as ‘water is all around’ you and what?
Blak Shuus: Oh Momma Bou, that joke is still not funny.
Bousie Momma: Yeah. Say it anyway.
Blak Shuus: And who can find a ‘dry place under water’.
Bousie Momma: It is funny. I see a smile. Do I not?
Blak Shuus: Yes Momma Bou. You do.
Epilogue:
(Blak Shuus had questions. Thoughts about things. The most important way to get them answered without judgment was to go back to his Momma Bou for the answers. Bousie Momma never gave more weight to the perceived advantages her son Blak Shuus seemed to have in comparison to others in the ocean community. The ‘Ocean God’ poured his creations into the waters making everything behave as he saw fit. Bousie Momma has never lost that respect as she knows she is just a part of the world that was created before the ‘Ocean God’ put living things on the shores above the waters.
Bousie Momma knows her duty is to teach preservation of life under water. She will do it well.).