Blackhumouristpress's Blog

August 13, 2013

When Maeve Met Medgar

“So if you cannot see, what can you describe to me to help me understand what you know about the color black? As in black people. I’m so interested to hear what you have to say.”
A beautiful young blond and blind woman happened to plop down at the first table she could find at the food court in a mall she had never been to before. She was pouring water into a bowl for her seeing-eye dog. A tall man was eating an ice cream for 49 cents from Mc Donald’s. Medgar loved eating soft serve ice cream going back to the days when he would visit his grandmother in Mississippi in summer months and take pocket change with him and his cousin to the Tastee-Freeze.
Maeve was dropped off by her aunt’s caretaker who was livid that the woman she had cared for, for close to thirty years while she declined with Alzheimer’s, willed her small fortune to her blind niece from Detroit. Aside from assuming that she would inherit the home and money for being a friend and constant companion, Sarah had a thing against German Sheppard dogs whether they were seeing-eye dogs or not. Sarah was Jewish and lost relatives in death camps at the hands of Nazi in Germany. As a girl, Sarah heard stories of German Sheppards snarling and biting hiding Jews in cities in Germany. Oddly enough, Sarah’s great-grandfather was a man who was responsible for creating chemical warfare during World War I and a pesticide called Zyclon A that was eventually modified to kill humans in Nazi death camps and renamed Zyclon B. Sarah was related to that unique man attributed to a lot of death during two world wars. A definite player in human history, German history, modern warfare and a German Jew.
In any event, Maeve would inherit a large Frank Lloyd Wright home in Oak Park, Illinois, Sarah the Caretaker and a few million dollars after the death of her wealthy aunt. The end was drawing near and so Maeve moved from her small apartment in suburban Detroit to suburban Chicago. One warm summer day, Sarah dropped Maeve off at a indoor mall in a lower economic area that had very few Caucasians milling about to buy gaudy t-shirts, cheap jewelry, gym shoes and hip-hop wear. Maeve was told by Sarah that the mall was a nice mall, with nice people just like at home in safe, homogenous Troy, Michigan which is a good fifteen miles from the muck and mire of inner city Detroit.
Maeve, unbeknownst to her, plopped down at the same table as the ice cream eating Medgar. Medgar startled Maeve by speaking to her.
“What a beautiful dog you have, Miss…”
“Oh! I’m sorry; I didn’t know this table was taken. I’ll take another.”
“No need, no need. I’m just sitting here enjoying an ice cream and some air conditioning. Can I buy you an ice cream?”
“Thank you kindly. I am on a strict diet. I’m trying to eat as healthy as possible. I have done research on partially hydrogenated products that are the causes of heart disease. I’m trying to stay away from anything with too many additives. This is my first week in Chicago and I’m truly lost here. I told Sarah that I visited the Summerset Mall in Troy, Michigan nearly everyday. So she decided to bring me here. Is this a nice mall?”
“Well, malls are malls, Right?”
In Troy, the mall had a glass atrium with faux palm trees and resembled a place in Dubai. The mall had granite floors polished so that one could see their reflection and was as clean as if it had just opened. It housed five star restaurants and top shelf department stores. The mall near Berwyn, Illinois catered to lower economic people. There was an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet and all the fast-food kiosks that one would find out on the boulevard. People were obese and poor and people of color by in large. Maeve didn’t learn this during her first visit. Medgar, a sensitivity trainer for union workers who were disciplined for racial slurs, was between classes. Most of Medgar’s clientele were white, blue collar, under educated and under cultured, suckled from the tit racists with a fear and disdain of others unlike them. In order to keep their union jobs, they would need to take fifty-hour courses that illustrated the fact that all Americans were immigrants and that all immigrants had taken their turns as the lowest rung on the ladder. There were also testimonials from Asians, Hispanics and African-Americans who had been discriminated against. Most whites left more resolved in their racism but they learned to keep their racism private at work.
“Black… Hmm… Dismal, dank, despair, no light.”
“Light? What is light? “
“Something warm like the sun. I can feel the sun. The sun feels light and airy. The smell of trees and flowers. At night, it is cold and I hear the night is black and black is cold and it doesn’t have sun and warmth… You know?”
“Forgive me for asking but I just think it is so interesting to speak to some who is visually challenged…”
“Visually challenged? Please… That is insulting. I’m blind not stupid.”
“Okay, as you wish… Blind. It is interesting to hear what the blind perceive.”
“I see… Sorry, I hear that all the time. Just thought I would use that phrase even though I can’t actually see.”
“Ha… I got it… So Detroit. Motown. What was that like? Lots of black in Detroit.”
“I was born in the city of Detroit and never went back. All I heard was how screwed up Detroit was going back to the riots after Martin Luther King Jr. From what I hear and know, Detroit was like Rhodesia and has become Zimbabwe and there were too many Robert Mugabe like mayors that ran the city into the ground instead of a Nelson Mandela.”
“That is an interesting analogy. Detroit went from being a prosperous white city to a bankrupt black city. What do you think will save Detroit?”
“White people, white money. It’s okay to have a black city but you cannot exist without whites. I have studied the differences between Chicago and Detroit and the whites have not abandoned Chicago.”
“Did you know that Chicago had a few black mayors?”
“Yes. Did those mayors work with whites?”
“You got me there, Maeve… I am so glad that our paths crossed today. It has been so interesting to me to get your point of view. You being blind and discussing your views is like me being at a dinner party and being invisible. Just listening and taking it in. Good luck here in Chicago.”
Sarah was standing off to the side listening and watching the interchange between a good-looking black man and a good-looking white woman, Maeve. When Medgar departed, Sarah approached Maeve.
“I didn’t hear everything that transpired between you and the gentleman at your table but I do want to make you aware that he was a black man. Did you know that? Did he tell you he was black?”
Maeve furrowed her brow. She felt duped and used. Every black man she had come across in the past had a pseudo, bastardized Deep South accent. Medgar didn’t sound like Amos or Andy. He sounded white as if a color could have a sound. Maeve was embarrassed by the assumption that she was speaking to a white man and ashamed to admit it to Sarah who had been less than nice to here during the short amount of time she had been living with her and her aunt. Sarah asked Maeve what he sounded like to her. Maeve gave a snide answer.
“Well Sarah… He sounded much taller than he looked to me. Can we go home now?”

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May 15, 2011

Imported to Detroit

Johannes would run right down the center of 8 Mile Road with two Doberman Pinchers in any weather.  It didn’t matter if it was hot or cold, snow or rain and in Detroit, you could get some of the coldest weather in the world and the most hot and humid.

The Warren Police on the north side of Eight Mile referred to the strong looking man as, “The Bad Santa”.  The Detroit Police on the south side of the dividing line referred to him as, “Zeus”.  The Blacks thought the man could very well be the devil himself and the trailer park whites just thought he was a bad assed old man who was fed up. Whatever one might call Johannes, he was unique, intense, driven and racist.

Johannes would often walk into a Detroit mini market where unemployed young black men would go to buy cheap flavored cigars so that they could house their marijuana and taunt them and the Indian clerks.

“Say boys, do you know vat zee lesbians und dee black mans have een common?”

“Fuck you, old white bitch..”

“Ah you give up so easily.  Zee lesser minds.  Trained monkeys who drink malt liquor and smoke zee weed all day…  And you got zee pusher behind zee bullet proof glass.  He ees safe een zee cage while zee animals crave zee fix.”

One of the young men pulled out a nine millimeter while he popped open a bag of salt and sour potato chips by squeezing the air out with his free hand.  The thin, young black man with a blue faux diamond studded Detroit Tigers hat with a straight brim and a long white t shirt pointed the handgun sideways at the large, muscular white man who was wearing a t shirt that read, “whiter than white”, a pair of black shorts and long white hair and a long white beard.  Picture Sean Connery on steroids, with long hair and a beard and a whole lot of hate that would be Johannes.

“Vi ees eet that zee black men point zee gun sidevays und zee white men holds eet straight?  You small minds cannot answer zat.  You got zee balls to pull the trigger, do eet.”

The young man did pull the trigger and just like trying to kill wild game, if you miss the kill shot, you most likely will be killed.  Johannes grabbed the hand gun that was crafted in Austria, released the clip and sodomized the young man with his own weapon while his shoulder oozed blood onto his whiter than white shirt.  This was all captured on closed caption film which eventually circulated on Youtube and then was used by the American Nazi Party that had set up camp in suburban Detroit to try and entice disgruntled metropolitan Detroit whites into joining their hate group.  The ANP felt Detroit was ripe for growing the membership.

Johannes was a German born neo-Nazi that was barred from his own country for hate crimes once he left Germany to help prop up the white government in South Africa in the early 1990’s.  From South Africa, Johannes moved to theUnited States and lived in Idaho for a number of years before the ANP sent him to set up camp in Detroit.  Johannes job was to spew racist propaganda on the internet and troll hard core Punk Rock gigs to engage angry young white men into taking pride in the fact that they were white.

When Johannes wasn’t working, he was lifting weights, riding a stationary bicycle and jogging close to ten miles a day.  Johannes stood a hair short of 6’4 and 260 lbs with less than ten percent body fat.  Johannes had a string of young chubby tattooed girls he met at Skinhead gigs with bad straight bang hair cuts and nose rings that would shack up with him in hisDetroit home that had razor wire; a fifteen foot iron fence around his home with dozens of German Shepard’s roaming free.  The front gate had a saying in German, “Arbeit Macht Frei” or work makes you free.  Johannes drove around in a bulletproof 1988 Ram Charger truck provided for by the ANP.

Travis and Lemont were twin brothers who were born and raised in the city of Detroit and by the age of nineteen, they had spent their entire adulthood in the Wayne County Prison.  They had been arrested for armed robbery, home invasion, car jacking, illegal weapons and open liquor in a car that wasn’t even theirs.  The twins couldn’t be blamed really for the path they took in life.  Their mother who was a prostitute, died and the boys were raised by their grandmother who was thirty years of age when they were born.  Some fifteen children and grandchildren existed and managed to grow up in the home despite the neglect.

Travis and Lemont after spending close to eighteen hard months in prison among some of the worst people in the country, they decided that they would give conventional work a chance.  A fat white man with a pencil thin mustache, gave them both jobs holding signs in front of large retail shops that were about to go out of business.

EVERYTHING MUST GO.  70% OFF OF EVERYTHING IN THE STORE

In good weather and bad, the twins held signs while they listened to music on street corners throughout the Detroit area.  The mustachioed white man had an old Oldsmobile Delta 88 circa 1980’s in light blue.  The car had been hot three times over and was given to Salvio in exchange for a debt.  The car sat in under a tarp in storage for years.  Salvio brought the twins over to see the car.  They were immediately in love.

“You willing to sell this car to us foh $500.00?”

“Whaddamygonna do with a car like this?  It’s a fucking car for kids.  It’s a kids car for chrissakes.  What’s an old fuck like me gonna do in a car like this?  You boys are good boys and I wanna get this outta my space anyway.  I gotta guy who can get you all the legal stuff for this.  You get pulled over by pigs and everythings gonna check out.  You want it?”

The twins shared the car, detailed it, raised it, put on large wheels and rims with a stereo system that could be heard blocks away like distant mortar fire on a battle field.  The twins were living a civilized, dignified life where they made honest to goodness money under the radar in cash.  They helped their grandmother pay for the dish they had installed so that they could watch anything they wanted at anytime.  Life was good.

The twins found girlfriends who happened to be sisters but not twins themselves and would drive south to hang out with them at a community center off of Mc Nichols inDetroit.  One day the two sisters stopped by to see their boyfriends play basketball at the park and then the four of them went downtown to the Lafayette Coney Island and then to hang out by the river, kiss, sweet talk around Hart Plaza and then drive to a remote spot to consummate their deep undying affection, while a Snoop Dogg tuned quietly played in the classic car with steamed up windows.

“I wanna..” bust a bitch upside her motherfuckin head
for talkin shit to a pimp
Limp on ’em, flip on ’em, dip on ’em
Crip on ’em, and put this motherfuckin dick on ’em
This sorta fish called a bitch oughta hush up
Rolled a fat blunt and smoked this motherfuckin dope up
Cause you know what? (Whattup?)
Shit a nigga know you’re so tough, but bitch I wanna go fuck
“I wanna..” take you upstairs, and do dat dere
Hell motherfuckin yeah
See I’m a real player and I won’t waste your time
I’ve been a starter, I ain’t never sat the fuckin pine
Stay on the frontline, it’s all by de-sign
Nigga done the crizzime, ain’t never dropped a dizzime
Everything is fizzine, rollin up a dizzime
D-O-double-G I got bitches waitin in lizzine

Across town Johannes was speaking on stage at a VFW hall.  Six Skinhead bands were playing.  The crowd was full of mostly sweaty young, white bald boys and men scattered with dumpy girls with razor cuts and bangs.  Johannes was a celebrity among the young skins.  Nobody yelled out stupid things or taunted him.  They were in awe of his physique and ability to say all the right things to make them proud to be white.  All in a German accent no less.

“You government and zee media calls us all sorts of zings but who runs zee government?  Who runs zee media?  A black president and Jew media tells you that you should be ashamed of youselves for being proud to be white.  Der ees no shame een being white.”

Cheers rang out in the crowded hall.  Johannes smiled and took it all in.  After thirty seconds of chants of “White Power”, he posed a few questions before getting off of the stage for the next band.

“Who ees proud to be white?  Who feels eet ees an honor to be white?  Who here has zee courage to stand up and tell the world dat you are white and white is right.  White ees right!”

The twins drove slowly towards home feeling good about the night as they drove down 8 Mile Road on a beautiful summer evening.  They played basketball, ate, laughed, drank, made love and it was all mostly legal.  Life was good.  Travis boosted the volume to a Jadakiss song at a red light, unaware that two cars had pulled up next to them on their left and right.

            Hustle after hustle - tryin to be a rich nigga
If I get caught up, I'll never be a snitch nigga
We pimpin hard charge it all to a bitch nigga
Under my denim is a big fo'-fifth nigga
fuckin with me is like, jumpin off a cliff nigga
And I don't practice I was born with this gift nigga

Johannes was pumped up from the show and couldn’t unwind even though he had made rough love to a girl named Gina from Taylor who moved out of her parent’s house and had been living with her boyfriend who had beaten her up.  Gina was moved by Johannes’s speech and so she left the VFW hall to spend a night in a bed and have sex.  Johannes left Gina in his bed, got dress in his running clothes and decided to go for a jog with his two prized Dobermans; shotzie and Frtitz.  Johannes hit the button on his ancient walkman that played a cassette of a Skinhead band called, Sick of it All.  The song was called, Breeders of Hate.

My mouth spouts
these words of anger and fight towards the other man
I’m bent out of shape
I’m feeling irate
feel that blood flow
the relic of sin I’ve always confused with black and white
Guns on the street, a message complete
Breed self hatred tonight
Save your insanity
you die for my needs
fuck them up now
take my advice and
breed your hate at home
the world wont be at peace
until my brothers are alone
my mouth spouts
these words of anger and fight towards the other man
Guns on the street, a message complete
Breed self hatred tonight

A shot rang out and missed the heads of both Travis and Lemont.  Travis hit the accelerator and a chase was on between the twins and the two cars that had pulled along side them at the red light.  Johannes new goal was trying to get his heart rate to forty five beats per minute, bench 300 lbs twice and run a mile under eight minutes.  All of which are high goals for a man close to sixty years of age.  Travis watched the needle on his antique automobile reach 100 mph.

The 1980’s model Oldsmobile was found in the middle of a vacant lot about a half mile south of 8 mile. A day later, on page three of the Detroit News was a brief detail of what the Detroit Police found.

Detroit-The dismembered body of Johannes Schwig was found in the back seat of a 1987 Oldsmobile registered to a deceased man in Flint,Michigan.  Cameras along 8 Mile Road captured a high speed collision near Van Dyke between the automobile and the pedestrian.  No further information has been gathered at this time.

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