With all due respect to the “shareholder”, it is a fact this all came from the culture.
Entertainment today – scratch that, entertainment from the beginning of time has been driven by us. There are countless cases of duplicating inspired by, wait hold up- taken rather, that was originally generated by the black culture. Down to more recent swipes like that of Taylor Swift who outright jacked from sister Beyonce’s Formation for her entire “Look What You Made Me Do” video concept and then turned around and said, “No, I didn’t.”
Yes, she did.
No different from Elvis stealing his infamous “Hound Dog” rock classic from an unknown black blues artist by the name of Big Mama Thornton. Much like a Pat Boone who stole “Tutti Frutti” from a Little Richard; Richard Berry’s “Louie Louie” that was swiped by The Kingsmen; even the likes of Bob Marley was getting ripped off with his very known hit “I Shot the Sheriff” that Eric Clapton later received Grammy Hall of Fame feats for with his rendition. Record labels were created off the strengths and talents of black artists. One, as a way to minimize the rumbles that would come from the very essence of their music, and Two, it was another way to turn the farmer into a sharecropper who therefore ends up giving up all his hard-earned money to an undeserving, impotent owner at the end of each period.
America would be a pretty dull place without us. The world would be pretty bland overall – no seasoning whatsoever.
The fascination with black people was so much so that it was a necessity to turn us into slaves, lessen our rights as creators, natural healers, and power sources until we are left with no other choice but to succumb to the ruling of a group not of ourselves. A powerful force we are, for had we never known, we would not know to be great. Turned into weaklings using chains and whips; lock us into dungeon cells, stifling our God-given gifts. Blessed beyond measure with tremendous strengths and abilities, the only way to beat a winner is to forcibly remove him/her from the rivalry. Giving him books to read outside of his language, then calling him dumb. Building this country, these 100 year old billion dollar brands with no retribution or money paid for services rendered is the farthest from being outdone. Befriend him, trick him onto the ship headed for a new world, a history re-written; the classic riches to rags story you hardly ever heard of, arbitrarily meant to go down in the Atlantic, with the herd of Vicissitudes.
Our makeup is studied in science labs, we are illustrious to say the least. We are examined religiously, from our eyes, our hair, skin, our demeanor, to the way that we sing and dance, a brighter mock-up for the newer generations to claim as feats. Cultural appropriation. It’s no longer flattering anymore – we want all of our credit for all of our creeds. There’s no more denying our tenacity as overcoming inferiority is our biggest victory, so they lock us up and throw away the key.
Jay Z said it best, in a recent interview, “We are culture. Nothing moves without us. We just continue to give it away,” which is right. Upon being told to dance, we ask no questions; upon the glimpse of that shiny penny, we are sold and bought – the chronicles of slavery remixed. The easy way to a dollar is highly selected from the dumb negro, the one who doesn’t like to read and chooses not to, for the passage might take too long to get through. I suppose not too many wanted to walk the road along with MLK, Malcolm X, and people like Harriet Tubman on the route of the Underground Railroad. There were of course some that just waited it out, sitting beside their master; and some who didn’t see the point as they were very well taken care of. When you can be the shareholder instead of the sharecropper, who is really better off taken care of?
When you allow for yourself to be used for the dollar, no sooner are you selling your soul to the devil; your life is no longer your own. There is a transaction to be exchanged no matter the level. It’s not your deal, it’s their deal, and you are just the pawn. The victory is to be independent of their decree’s. No paying back the shareholder for the only beholder is you. And this is not to be of no consequence of ridicule, for the greatest ridicule comes for an independent voice, for when you are out on a limb, alone and desolate, it’s easy to turn against you. But brave is the one to go against the grain to land on ones own two feet. Brilliant is the one who cannot be hustled.
To be strung up like a puppet or strung up with a noose, which route do you choose? Neither, for one puppet is being controlled and the other is no longer with us; while either way, you are no longer with us.
I suppose the only difference is, one is taken – abducted against your will; and the other, you chose.