There Are No Heroes, Only Monsters
When I was a child, I thought people wanted to be good.
I thought the world was terrible because of a few awful people wrecking shop on the masses. Now, I know the opposite is true. While the few have massive resources and power to enact a huge amount of damage, these people are not the exception – they are the norm and the world is currently in a battle to see who can gather the most power to inflict the most damage with the least repercussions. I see a world I don’t want to save.
I look at white people and I see their love of hating and exploiting Blackness. I see people who hunger for more power to do more damage. I see people who relish the idea of hurting us…raping us…killing us… Who use every possible human flaw as a justification for the horrors they inflict. People who have made my brown skin an illness, a crime, something to fear when its their actions that are grisly and abominable without justification. They’ve created a culture where everyone is complicit, and their entertainment is either reveling in their crassness or anticipating the impending destruction while doing nothing to stop it. Movies and television shows celebrate both their mediocrity and shitty perspectives, they chronicle the ways they are terrible to each other, while simultaneously erasing every person who doesn’t fit their ideal society. Their entertainment is both genocidal and narcissistic in ways that allow them to feel better about how shitty they actually are.
America is where the monsters run free.
The civilized white person is a lie, a PR campaign to cleanse their guilt but the monster still walks among us and feeds upon everyone else. The merciful, kind white person is a fantasy; the monster is what’s real.
They help themselves and hoard resources, then broadcast the desperate trying to survive as entertainment. They watch and laugh at situations and circumstances they created then call us savages for managing to eek out an existence, to not just survive but sometimes thrive. We mine gold from their garbage while being told we ain’t shit, all while having our creations stolen, whitened, and sold for their personal gain.
Our people assissinated either directly or indirectly and blamed again and again and again. We live through lies and mental gymnastics of white people working overtime to blame us for our hardships, our murders. Regardless of numerous lawsuits citing racial discrimination in hiring, the workplace, housing, education, banking, policing…despite study after study determining that not only are racism and racial discrimination is real but white people intentionally engage in it and tell themselves they aren’t. They will call the police on a Black person walking down their street but say that it wasn’t because the person was Black…they just looked “suspicious.”
White people are happy racist monsters who love the sense of power they feel from their whiteness and it is disgusting. Non-Black People of Color are barely better – their anti-Blackness sits front and center at all times. They work to align themselves with whiteness only to learn in startling ways that they aren’t white, but they have no problem maligning Blackness to perpetuate that illusion.
Black men are a whole other story. Their hatred of Black women oozes from between their lips at every turn. The condemnation of Black women for speaking, living, and not centering them in our lives. They compete with whiteness for domination and their stepping stones are Black women. And they seem to have no problem with ridiculing, abusing, and murdering Black women as long as they have their masculinity and self-ordained, head of household status. Fed and killed by the same hand they emulate in their homes and neighborhoods. The same hand that would gleefully kill us all for the crime of brown skin.
Americans are literally crabs in a barrel, pulling each other down to climb to the top. Once at the top, they see that america isn’t the only barrel, and it’s not at the top, so the struggle to oppress and suppress continues until we’re all obliterated in the process.
Because when the end comes, it won’t be in hand to hand combat. It won’t be something we can win on an individual level. The end will be at the hands of "strategic" thinking of people who inherited their power and lack the intelligence, reasoning, and empathy to retain the barest semblance of humanity. Our futures are in the hands of soulless megalomaniacs with too much power, those who see murder as a small obstacle keeping them from all their entitlements, benefits, and continued easy way of life – a life that for them is worth the innumerable lives lost for their gain. Whiteness destroys all for its illusion of greatness, all the while existing as the worst humanity has to offer.
Sadly, this is the most civilized and least violent white people have ever been in this country. The wanton brutality that created white people’s heroes is the best they offer from history. A legacy of blood and destruction that reshaped the world in their sociopathic image and lies continuously to maintain that illusion. Whiteness is the image of good without the morality, empathy, and humanity of those it destroys. And that the truth they keep running from. That’s the truth they keep killing to maintain, unable to face that every action they do to maintain that lie, defiles them even more.
Oh, how it must sting for them to admit their ancestors casually dehumanized everyone as they built their legacy, their current legacy, in spilled blood and bloated corpses. That they created a world where thousands willingly sought death and others did anything they could to survive while their families fought to maintain that status quo. It’s gotta burn to know that the kind, genteel, civilized people of their past traveled around the globe kidnapping, raping, torturing, and murdering indigenous people, calling their horrors “mercy” and their abuses “enlightenment.” Thieves, kidnappers, enslavers, rapists, and murderers of children all in the name of whiteness.
Their ancestors literally had lunch under the dead bodies of people they murdered. Painted images of it and called it art. How twisted does one have to be to do that to another person? What kind of fucked up do one have to be to think that was okay? They raise their children to think that was okay. They continue to terrorize Black and brown people and tell everyone it’s okay. They cajole, coerce, threaten, lie, and bully everyone around them into saying they’re okay when really they are the sewage that has overwhelmed the world with their foulness. They justify their savagery with their propaganda machine, protect their worst offenders, and then wonder why only the people who look like them can tolerate them.
Everything whiteness has is drenched in the torture and slaughter of others, yet they think they are the civilized ones? The audacity of white supremacy is mind boggling. They don’t know who the fuck they are, which is why they’re so surprised when their kids go on murder sprees. They have serial rapists and murderers living openly amongst them, then wonder why this country is so violent. They protect their power at the expense of truth and self-awareness and then wonder why empathy is such a rare commodity.
The hypocrisy and bullshit is too much to take. I can’t lie to myself about who they are anymore. I look at my S.O. and wonder what it would take to break him of his veneer of civility. He’s comfortable, and that provides the luxury of morality, which makes it all the more confusing why white people, specifically white people with money are so fucked up.
In colonialism, there are no heroes. There are the conquered and the conquerors. The oppressed and the oppressors. The victims and the victimizers. Our narrative is determined by the skin we're born in and who we're willing to exploit to "elevate" ourselves. There is power and there is survival and the darker & more feminine you are, the more likely you are to be exploited and the more damage you'll have to do to prove your worth to those in power. You’ll never prove your worth to those in power because as long as they have power, they pull the strings of everyone around them, keeping them distracted with surviving rather than identifying the true enemy. You’ll never get close enough without dancing to their tune, and that dance is so vicious, you will become the monster you intended to slay.
But keep fighting to win a game where you were never on the board. Keep telling yourself that you can make a difference. That delusion is how babies continue to be born and the rebels keep rebelling. My womb remains empty because I choose not to feed this insatiable machine any more than I have to and it keeps me free to hope I become the monster that destroys it.