Netflix sometimes makes good things.

My mother (Theresa Johnson), My uncles (Lydell Moore & Mayne) & Aunt (Wanda Sanders) stoopin with the late Muhammad Ali

Considering the new outrage of the treatment of POC people, or better yet, its ability to be highlighted on social media and spread like flame throughout the world....I don’t think they have a choice.

So last night I watched Drunk Off The Hog. Brilliant title, am I right? IYKYK. Especially to be named after such a useful southern phrase. This was special to me. It really is the small things, ain’t it. The show details the connective tissue between black cuisine in America and its connection back home. It speaks, better yet shouts of the resiliency of my people and how we always held the power through the tales of our food.

Saul Williams once said in his spoken word Amethyst Rock, “stealing us was the smartest thing they ever did. Too bad they don’t teach the same thing to their kids.” this bit of brilliance hit me like it was my first day watching def jam poetry as a child. I remember the moment I was MADE to feel proud as a human. Of my color. Of this shade. My ashy knees. I remember how monumental it made me feel to watch a human stand so tall and be so black and be so genius in front of the worlds t.v.

Saul is so fearless.

The host of this show is not Saul Williams. He is himself, however brilliant in his own right. Right before he departed West Africa, he stood on the beaches where our ancestors were last scene in Africa. They poured water over the soles of their feet to cool them as they stepped upon the slab of concrete to embrace what remained of the stolen souls. This chef in all his brilliance broke down but this strong black momma held him and told him to walk tall. I cried too. I wanted to be held by my big momma (my grandmother) but she lives in Alabama and I Berlin.

Anger gripped me, so did pride, so does happiness, relief, so does the feeling of vengeance, and exhaustion. At times I'm mostly just a cocktail of confused emotions towards my white counterparts. How you mother fuckers anger me with your overall laziness. With your arrogance. Your theft. Your fraudulent ways.

People of color really got stomped out. Some even extinct. The Tanzanians will never see the light of day again. They’re done. The Native Americans almost met the same fate, luckily the they were “allowed” a settlement.

At times I’m rather confused as to how I grew up to believe that me and my people were so lazy, and so foolish, and I believed it. All the while I digested you guy’s world. I learned how to move in it, how to talk your talk, walk like you guys walk, eat your shit fucking food, whisper, be depressed because you were.....and you know nothing about me. You know nothing about my people.

You don’t even question how it is you and yours get to live so well, or how your people have such an inheritance? Or why you have family businesses dating back 100’s of years and your black homies don’t?

Or why blacks and browns are so terrified of dogs, cops, huge bodies of water, why they put their heads down in the face of white authority? You don’t think about this shit?

Why not?

Why doesn’t it bother you that the people you fuck and suck, and steal from, and make money off of, and dick ride are so fucked up and you are so “good”?

Why are you so comfortable sitting on your asses or marching once out of 400 years for us while we take bullets in the streets?

Then you have the nerve to say that we are just one people. I don’t understand how...
Please explain to a nigga, how we are the same and if I’m smarter, more educated, “artsier”, etc, etc, etc, how I end up catching the bullet, prison, or military and you get the Ivy League?

Make it make sense.