This is America,

I’m a fan of Donald Glover #ChildishGambino like an OG fan back in his #PineApple days trying to be Youtube famous on #DerrickComedy and I will say I’ve liked his evolution as an entertainer from Comedy writer, Actor, Stand-Up and the point of this article Singer/Song-writer.

With all that said I want to give my own perspective on his latest song/video release of #ThisIsAmerica… In all fairness I didn’t feel the need to give my own perspective until I saw the varying degrees of response to his work from polarizing sides of the spectrum. Now, because I am the most HUMBLE and UNBIASED man I know. I feel as though I can navigate through extremes and come up with the most insightful conclusive dissection of this video without any prejudice. Did I mention how HUMBLE I am?

Now to be fair after I watched the original content I had my own opinion which I will try to recreate but after watching the different spinsters I felt as though they were a bit ingenious but also offered a different insight that I may have been oblivious too. So I decided to watch the video again and here are my thoughts…

Its a very Afro-Centric song talking about how black people just want to pay and enjoy life. Accompanied with a gospel sound that is interrupted by a GUNSHOT… and a body…. The next words are “This is America… Don’t Catch You Slipping Up… Look What Im Whipping Up.” and in my opinion what he is saying is “Fuck how I destroy my community look what I have.”

Then is combines with “Black face inspired” characterized dancing to detract from the actual problem. Now because I am a White CIS gendered straight male I don’t rate an opinion but I will continue to go on.

#CB then states how “Gunz in my area… I got to carry them.” speaking to the plight of black America needing to be armed but living in cities with stringent gun laws. They make themselves felons just to survive. #FreeMeekMills

#CB Then goes into going down the hole of gang culture partially out of necessity which then turns to ego. The one thing that can pull him out is his reintroduction of Gospel singers which could equate to his roots and basis for morality. That he dances out to then quickly puts to death and coldly walks away because “This is America #MakeThatMoneyBlackMan #DontCatchYouSlippin #LookWhatImWhippin

Then a riot starts to take place in the background of his own community that he just shot the fuck up and he is just #Stuntin about himself… In all truth references about #Celly #HunnidBands and #Contrabands earning his street cred and moving up the ranks he can now make a threat it gets silent and everyone disappears. He doesnt have a weapon and although he may’ve elevated to a point where he personally doesnt pull the trigger. He sparks a jay and the soul music comes back #FrankWhiteShit. Then the video resurrects his initial(now faceless) victim which put him in his position because it gave him his initial street cred and his following list #GotHisMoney.

The #CB is dancing in an empty lot with only one CardiB-esque type Boo below him surrounded by no one except shitty hoopty rides…. Followed by him running scared from what I can only imagine is the community he destroyed…

Basically its everything Kanye West was trying to say…. #ThisIsAmerica #TIA

I haven’t even cried yet…

When my grandfather died I was actually relieved because for the last few years he was more of a shadow of himself then the man I modeled my life after…. Writing this now I don’t know what I am trying to accomplish but I due know that I want to share who he was to me. He taught me how to love where as my GiGi taught me how to live. I bring her into the conversation because every great love affair binds the souls. GiGi gave me the courage to slap people in the face and get arrested in NOLA in my 70’s. Where as G aka PoP’s taught me how to love and be there for my family regardless of whether or not it was 4am “On a Tuesday”(Club blowing up irrelevant)

Im writing this now to try and feel something because my inability to feel is what has lead every meaningful relationship I’ve been in to fail. Ive lost something inside myself that allows emotion to penetrate me. I now live by a system of rules that defines the game I play with anyone Im involved in. If you fall short and the dynamic has changed then you become expendable. Once the man who made me what I have become lost his value… he lost my tears.

What kills me is thats not something I learned from him because he made psalm crosses for his mother to lay on her grave from the day she died. Where once someone loses there value I’ll let them slowly go out to pasture but in essence only send money for carrots. Whats bringing tears to me now is that I realize he was and continues to be a greater man than Im capable of emulating and I acknowledge that I can only be a charlatan of who he was. People loved him for who he was. They love me for who I pretend to be because the reality is I try to emulate who he was but I am only the Shadow of what his genuine light brought to the world.

I can’t cry because I am unable to love…

I walk into a 7/11 hearing the bell ring upon my entry. I feel my consciousness jump to the bell then back to me. I suppose I am in such a rush to get outside myself I feel as though anything outside of my control I want to immediately understand encapsulate and have in my power. Time… One thing that isn’t inside my control because adding more time to this dynamic allows for more variables. I see the attendant resting his hand on the counter and rather than reach for my weapon. I slam my left hand on top of his wrist and violently follow through with my right fist across his face. Never releasing the pressure of his free hand with my left. I use it as my pivot point to jump across the counter. After my initial display of hyper-violence my victim has the sense to at least play possum. Oddly enough Im not even interested in the register because most assholes now a day’s pay with cards. So I give a pull of the 20 dollar CA lottery scratch-off’s like I’m trying to blast out a “fruit by the foot”. I pull a 10 cent plastic bag thats by the register thanks to Prop-“fuck the poor” and fill it with all the scratch-offs I can. The clerk lays complaint the entire time after my initial assault but I decide to run his pockets for good measure. Taking only his Obama phone I tell him to “Stay down!” I walk around the register/counter from behind the hot dogs and taquitos and right out the front door breaking the flip phone in half and casually disagreeing it. Total time on target less then 5 minutes…. Where am I wrong?