Laverne Cox shoots for Luke Fontana
Gun control, like many other areas of law in American history, has been shaped by prejudice…after the Civil War there was a rash of gun control laws aimed at disarming blacks.
To enforce these laws, racists began to form posses [later to be known as the KKK] that would go out at night in large groups, generally wearing disguises, and terrorize black homes, seizing every gun they could find.
…a close look at [the Gun Control Act of 1968] revealed that it wasn’t really about controlling guns; it was about controlling blacks. And the NRA, in its signature publication, American Rifleman, took credit for the law and extolled its virtues.
shit the more these racist cops keep shootin our people the more i wanna pick up a gun like the Black Panther Party for Self Defense to defend myself and my communities against police brutality.
- "A List of Laws Designed to Disarm Slaves, Freedmen, and African-Americans" starting from 1640
- Fear of a Black Gun Owner: Ironically, the NRA used to support gun control — when the Black Panthers started packing
- NRA president: Gun-control movement founded by racists (oh the irony)
- The Long, Racist History of Gun Control in America
- Traditionally, racists and reactionaries demanded gun control in America. Why have Leftists now joined in?
- The Discriminatory History of Gun Control
- The Second Amendment was Ratified to Preserve Slavery
I have reblogged this at least a thousand times
I think my selfie problem is getting out of hand..
This deserves at least a thousand notes !!
I’m sorry dear listener, but as I lay here I realize that my deadliest enemy is idle time.
As I scroll this blog in my head, I’m dogging incoming air strikes of my own shit, and contrary to popular belief it does in fact stink.
See I’ve become like Atlas holding up the lives of those around me with shaky arms and legs buckling. All the while my own demons descend in droves around me blocking out the light of hope.
Because the wonder that childhood provided me was taken away by a mother on drugs, a child molesting step father, and an abusive relationship with my best friend. (I called you brother how could you)
But no don’t worry about me, see I’ve dawned the golden armor, held Excalibur high, and proclaimed myself the king of heroes. Because mama always told me “life’s a bitch and then you die.” And I ‘ve come to save you damsel.
I’m not ignorant of the struggle so I must educate and protect you poor unfortunate souls though mine rots in my chest.
Patch it up with boys, their love gives this vessel a worthy lord to follow, to serve. And the betrayal that follows, when it cuts so deep you can see the bone, and the shade of what falls shift from red to crimson. Never stop, keep moving forward, I will not fall from this wound. I REFUSE!
My devotion is absolute and my loyalty unwavering. Yet….
Pause, reflect, repeat.
It was that boy, that moment, that time. Now’s different, now I see, now I have a shield. This story has a happy ending I bet my all on it. See I’m harder (I won’t let you in so soon) better (I know my worth now) faster (I won’t wait for you to hurt me) stronger ( I survived him I can survive you).
I don’t know about you but when I feel, it’s real or so I’ve been told. And when I hurt it lingers, and the worst death are the ones that linger, or so I’ve read. But I deserve love and I’ve seen it dancing in front of me so close I could almost touch it.
But there’s no time for that, when there’s war to be waged, here, in isolation where no one can see. Where day by day every “hey sexy” from a 40 year old white man looking to catch some jungle fever, beats at my value. You raped our women now you want the boys.
Forgive me my aggression lord but I am but a man.
Where every unanswered text and missed message from dating sites leaves me questioning my being.
Prude, nerd, outsider, ghost.
There but not, heard but never felt. Something to catch on tape. Nothing to understand. An Existence that must be proved and disputed.
This thing inside me that people say can be prayed away, something to be slayed, and shamed.
And I’m sorry dear listener if I’ve killing your vibe, but these words have become too much to hide. When the world has turned it back on one of the few that just want to walk by its side. Doomed to a fate of loneliness then die.
“Life’s a bitch and then you die.” So I’ve been told.
“well that’s dark.” Yea I know. But unlike stories books, real heroes fall in battle, serving a corrupt man.
Carry on dear listener, I didn’t mean to be rude, please forgive me if I killed your mood.