This is Republican Congressman Mitch McConnell at CPAC 2014 with rifle in hand.
For him, the strict Washington, DC gun control laws are buried deep under the sand.
If it had been a black man brandishing that long gun...
The cops would have executed him on the spot, like Hussein's son...
And every Republican there would decry "Stand Your Ground," Son... join the band!
***
How do gun fearing black people reason an image like this photo?
How do black people co-exist with crazed white men packing legal heat?
What is it like to fear the old Republican codger bastard with a gun in his hand?
Here, from The Poem Per Day Project... again... is what some of us live through daily.
(Poem 18 of 365)
TASTING THE BLACK FEAR
Sitting at a stoplight to nowhere... these thoughts --
Yesterday was a warm day here in Northern Virginia.
I drove up to the gas station to put some gas in my car.
I was playing my music loud, I confess,
As I pulled up beside the gas pump.
The band on my CD is called Slave.
The song oozing from my 6 speaker system was "Watching You."
No cursing, no rap and no offensive tone in this CD.
I am a Negro man in my 50's.
I grew up in the times when black men expressed through music.
And we play our music loud when we drive down the street.
And we don't give a goddamn if you like it, or not.
And, just for context, white men play loud music in their cars, too.
Don't twist the facts and blame the black when you shoot them dead!
As they play their music in their cars.
Just because you are white and allowed,
By the government supposedly serving us both,
To shoot black men dead if you don't like their music.
I was alone at the pump at the gas station.
Within minutes a younger black dude drove into the stall next to me.
He got out of his car... and immediately approached me.
He said, be careful, man, they shoot black people over our music.
There was real fear in his eyes as he looked at me.
I assured him that to live in fear is not to live, at all.
I welcome the next dick who decided to attack me over my music.
We said a few more cool words and had a laugh, or two.
And then I got in my car and drove off before he was finished gassing.
That exchange is a prime example of what it is like to be black.
That exchange is a prime example of the fear in being black.
That exchange is a prime example of the paranoia of blackness.
That exchange is a prime example of what it is like:
TO LIVE AND DIE BLACK IN THE USA!
http://thepoemperdayproject.blogspot.com/2014/02/to-live-and-die-black-in-usa.html
