The Black Messiah

In March 1968, FBI director J. Edgar Hoover issued a directive detailing the long range goals of it’s counter-intelligence program known as COINTELPRO.

Prominent among these aims is to “prevent the rise of a messiah who could unify and electrify” uncompromising Black people.

Hoover has failed however and the Black Messiah has arrived.

Addressing America from a podium, the Black Messiah upholds a sheet of paper which displays a copy of an old photograph and says:

Look at these two Black boys, just teenagers, hanging from the end of a rope. Take notice of the holes in their chests from where the crowbar was slammed through their bodies. 

Why was this done to them? For what reason? Consider this quote from Frederick Douglass:

“It is proof that the Negro is not standing still. He is not dead but alive and active. He is not drifting with the current but manfully resisting it and fighting his way toward better conditions than those of the past, and better than those which popular opinion proscribes for him. He is not contented with his surroundings. A ship rotting at anchor meets with no resistance, but when she sets sail on the sea she has to buffet opposing billows. The enemies of the Negro see that he is making progress and they naturally wish to stop him and keep him in just what they consider his proper place. They who aspire to higher grades than those fixed for them by society are scouted and scorned as upstarts for their presumptions.”

And now here you are stressing “personal responsibility” to us, in response to our lamenting our degraded condition. You would accuse us of failing to make the necessary effort to improve ourselves. The same effort for which you once slammed crowbars through the chest of our young sons. 

It is as though your murder of them leaves you unsatisfied and you feel need to violate them further, to dig up their remains and crush their bones into dust under your heel. To bombard their loved ones with trash as they stand weeping before the tombstones. So we are guarding the graveyard. 

Perhaps you are right about our lack of effort. After all, in this day and age there are no Black bodies hanging from the lampposts are there? We must have given up.

The Black messiah then travels to Baltimore. In secret, he makes contact with several young men there and whispers in their ears. They later on in the day come across an unattended police cruiser. They open the doors, douse the inside with gasoline and light a match, setting the car ablaze. They then quietly disappear.

The next day, the Black Messiah anonymously releases a public statement, typed on paper:

Dear sirs and madams,

We would like to take responsibility and account for our actions yesterday involving this destroyed police cruiser.  

In life, intention compels action. Our intention here is to create a crisis, in the same spirit of our forefathers and of your own, who destroyed shipments of tea in protest. They were an oppressed people, after all.

We of course recognize your hysteria in response to the sight of a burning police cruiser, the value you place upon it. And we of course recognize your nonchalance in response to the sight of the young man with the severed spine, the value you place upon it. 

The Black Messiah then heads to Baltimore. Again he whispers in some ears and before you know it, one night the local Municipal court is engulfed in flames. By morning it is a charred skeleton. Again responsibility is taken, publicly but anonymously:


About Richard Kurdt

Richard Kurdt. Citizen Journalist and Unrepentant Troublemaker.
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