The Allegory of a Dusty

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Image “Empty Pockets” by Puroticorico is licensed under CCBY-SA 2.0.

Based on Rule # 1. I keep returning to one of my favorite books: Soul On Ice by Eldridge Cleaver, who, from 1968-71, was Minister of Information of the Black Panther Party for Self-Defense. In an essay titled “The Allegory of the Black Eunuchs,” a group of young black men gather at a prison picnic table for lunch when an old greying negro with straightened hair, described by the author as a “chocolate Santa Claus” sits down uninvited.  

The younger men start playing head games with the guy they now refer to as Lazarus. After a few minutes, old Lazarus reveals how much he hates black women and loves white women. Regardless of her appearance, every white woman (he calls her Jezebel) is a goddess to him. She is the forbidden fruit representing freedom, while the black woman, with her intractable nature and nappy hair, symbolizes oppression and slavery. Lazarus swears he will never be free (from his emotional castration) until American society allows him access to any white woman he chooses.

Years ago, I worked with a student who asserted that the civil rights movement of the 1960s had little to do with voting or social justice. The actual objective of elite negroes was to legally get their hands on white pussy. He said, “Have you ever seen the documentary Eyes On The Prize? The prize at the end of the rainbow is a white woman! And you're not going to believe this part either, brother. It's not in any history books, but Jews were the actual beneficiaries of the civil rights movement. Whites hated them almost as much as they hated negroes. So the Jew decided to bankroll civil rights organizations, hoping to overturn many of the No Dogs, No Jews [italics mine] discriminatory policies in American housing. The Jews needed segregation to end so they could expand their business and financial empire across the country.”

Lazarus described a conspiratorial structure in America with the white man as an “Omnipotent Administrator.” He's the one in charge and represents the brain. The black man is the opposite; He's the dimwitted, “Supermasculine Menial” body, and his place is in the fields and factories performing manual labor. The “Omnipotent Administrator” makes the rules; therefore, he doesn't want any woman or non-white man to achieve a higher education than himself, as they would threaten his absolute authority. “The Administrator” can have sexual relations with white or black women, whereas the “Supermasculine” black man can only have sex with black women whom he doesn't want. Any violation of the directive means death.

“Allegory of the Black Eunuchs” was written almost 55 years ago, and just like old fat Lazarus, many African-American men today, especially those with wealth, still feel entitled to any woman on the planet. Black women, however, especially the darker ones, must remain loyal to black men and not intermingle or marry outside of the race. Besides the stressful responsibility of single motherhood, these women must also serve as activist warriors, fighting the black man's battles while he hides in the shadows like a punk ass sissy.

Thank God, there's an online movement of fearless black women encouraging other black females to divest from “Blackistan” - a nightmarish, parallel America inhabited by Dusties: shiftless, dirt-poor black men with nothing to offer but their dicks and a mouthful of word salad. A dusty is hopeless with technology. He only uses a computer to troll the internet, especially YouTube, and various chat rooms to monitor what black women say about him. If exposed, he'll blame white supremacy for his failures as a father, husband, and provider.

On the streets and barbershops of Blackistan, stoned dusties try to impress each other with senseless basketball-dominated chatter. “Yo, nigger, my man Lebron scored thirty-two points last night with fifteen rebounds.” As if Lebron James's millions will magically trickle down to them. By wearing the same pricey caps, jerseys, and sneakers (no doubt purchased by their girlfriends or baby mommas) as their favorite sports heroes, Dusties are making white and Asian men who own the stores rich.

In Blackistan, a variant of the dusty, known as a hotep, stalks nightclubs, and cultural events. His mission is to fool black women into thinking he’s intelligent and Afrocentric when, in fact, it’s only a ploy to gain access to her bed, car, and bank accounts. These pseudo-revolutionaries dress up in African garb and preach that black salvation rests on principles established in ancient Egypt 4,000 years ago. Although most wouldn't know the difference between a pharaoh and a sparrow, they consider themselves descendants of ancient kings and non-existent biblical Israelites.

Unfortunately, regardless of socioeconomic status, many females in Blackistan (called dust bunnies) continue to fall for the dust man's rhetoric and will birth children whom he has no intention of supporting. I'm not blaming black women, though. It's not their fault. Since childhood, they've been conditioned to defend the dusty, even those who have abused or abandoned them. Divesting from Blackistan will take time, maybe a hundred years. I hope more black women heed the call and get out before it's too late.