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Why black women hate me (Hint: Lil’ Wayne)

January 20, 2009

Black women hate me. Seriously. I hate them too most of the time. Why? They stopped learning how to take care of black men. I’m all for interracial relationships ( I have no choice but to do it) but black women used to really know how to comfort black men and be a source of strength for us. Now they just do anything they can to embarrass, humiliate, degrade and emasculate black men. It’s like they changed sides from black men to everyone else. Whenever white men start complaining about black men there are always some sistas right there agreeing with them, breaking one of Malcolm’s main tenets: for black people to work out our disagreements in private away from prying white ears eager to exploit it to further demonize black men in this culture.

The thug fetish that women have in this culture is not completely different from the “bad boy” fetish of days long ago but it has become more than an aphrodisiac to many women, black and white. It has become their lifestyle. There are women in their fifties that have memberships in the Lil’ Wayne fan club. I’m all for bridging the generation gap but this is another phenomenon entirely. It is the worst form of infantilism, an epidemic in this country and a clear indication of an empire in decline.

The problem is that black women want a thug but they also want a man with stability, financially and otherwise. They want a family but they know a thug will not do his part to help take care of their children, let along actually be a real father that spends quality time with his offspring. So ideally a black man has to be a part-time thug and part-time Mr. Nice Guy. Not many brothers can or even want to try doing that. There are still a few wannabee thugs out there trying to be something they aren’t and there are still some real thugs out there too but brothers have largely given up on sistas. For one thing if you are two different people there is no way you can ever completely be yourself unless you have multiple personality disorder. That means you have to sacrifice part of who you really are just to turn black women on and keep their interest. What kind of empty, pointless existence is that?

I know what some readers are going to say at this point. I’m talking in absolutes and shouldn’t paint all black women with such a broad brush, no pun intended. It was not my intention to do so.  I know there are black women out not afflicted by this mental condition, who appreciate well-spoken black men with college degrees, gainful employment, no kids, no criminal record and a little money in the bank. They’ve usually been through their thug phase and graduated with scars, deciding to go with terrible sex and boredom to keep from getting beat up every night after Thugnacious came home drunk and high with gangsta rap songs echoing in his head. I heard a black comedian say one time that to find a good black woman you have a follow a thug home. I hope that’s not true but hope is fading fast. If a man can’t be in two places at the same time how could he possibly hope to be two people at the same time?

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