JOOM: "OK Mammie, I'm going to go in a different direction. I'd like you to tell me why blacks love crack so much. What is it about that stuff that makes you blacks go crazy for it? You know it keeps you broke and causes a lot of gun fights and murders, so why screw with it?" She looked at me as if I was nuts.
MAMMIE: "You tellin' me dat you don't smoke no crack?" she asked incredulously. I nodded. She laughed her ass off. "You be foolin' wit me, right?" I shook my head seriously. "You ain't ebah smoked no crack?" I shook my head again. "Well I'll be dipped in sheeit!" She was genuinely amazed. "Dat's some badass sheeiit, man! Once a black try dat sheeiit, dey be no goin' back. ain't nothin' so good on de whole world, you know?"JOOM: "But look what it does, Mammie. It ruins your whole life. Nothing's worth that."
MAMMIE: "Dey be sompin' bout' dat crack, dat once a black does some, dey be hooked foe-ebbah(forever). Sides', we ain't got no life anyway sides' gettin' f**ked up." There was a strange melancholy in her voice, like a lost child in the wilderness.JOOM: Finally I understood something deep about blacks. It was like I had always suspected except it was much more severe than even I had guessed. Blacks felt lost in the white man's world. It was too much for them. Hell, it's too much for us, and we created it. To a black this whole society is a confusing and frightening madhouse from which they can't escape. And only another black can understand their feelings about it because only blacks face the problem of just not being smart enough to cope with white culture. That's one of the main reasons they form ghettos and niggertowns, so they can feel more secure by being among others like themselves, people that understand. They missed their simple life of the African bush, though none of these Americanized niggers had ever set foot back in Africa. It was something primal, unsaid, but as real as a bullet wound. They didn't know exactly what was wrong, but they knew it was severe. Blacks were miserable here. They were lost children in an advanced world they could never flourish in. I knew the cure, and so did many of my peers. They all needed to be repatriated back to Africa where they could live out their lives with other blacks in a simple world of village life, homemade booze, and jungle females. A life where everything was simple. Food, females, and fun. The three things niggers value most in life. Now I truly understood why niggers had never explored the planet or built monuments and cities. They didn't want to! They liked their primitive, simple life in the bush just fine and saw no need to advance any further. What the Jews had done to them by yanking them out of that world and into ours for a profit, was as great an evil to them as it was to us, by forcing us to deal with them here in our society. Hitler was right. Behind every social ill you'll find a Jewish maggot...
Crack is a way out, a temporary escape for these trapped animals. A way to forget where they are and who and what they are. They can float away on a sea of ecstasy, at least temporarily, and forget their troubles. The problem is, crack has a deep effect on the user's mental faculties, causing him or her to lose a large portion of their reasoning, and all of their inhibitions. And when you've already got an IQ of only around 66, you're in deep shit. That's why cops call them "cracked-out" niggers and know they're going to have to get physical with them to get them under control. Niggers can and do become extremely violent and dangerous on the stuff, and their brute animal strength is amplified to the point a buck can take on five cops and still win. In fact that was the main reason the Taser was invented and deployed to all police forces. Niggers.. Too many innocent people and cops had been either killed or brutally beaten by some crazed, cracked-out buck. It had to stop. We've all watched hundreds of videos where some crazed coon stole a car and went on a destructo binge, tearing up the neighborhood and the stolen car to boot. We've also seen dozens of incidents where some huge buck-naked coon is walking right down the middle of a street wielding a butcher knife and cussing whitey at the top of his lungs. Crack may be an escape to the nigger, but it's also his worst enemy, though he just doesn't care. The escape is worth the risk to them. For just like children they are trapped in the eternal now, with no thought for the future consequences of their actions. A child who wants something will throw a fit when mamma tells him no, even though she's protecting his dumb ass from the future consequences of him having it. You don't give your .38 to your spoiled brat, no matter how much he screams. As long as we're forced to live among these chimps, we have to control their actions and the consequences of their stupidity. The war on drugs isn't so much about controlling these drugs as it's about controlling niggers. I understood that now..."OK Mammie, I think I understand where you're coming from. Let me ask you something on a different subject. I want to ask you why your men are always and perpetually going after our women. If there's one thing a black man can be counted on doing, it's chasing white women. Why? He's got more than enough of his own women, so why do it?"
MAMMIE: Her eyes cut daggers, and I could tell that I'd hit on a very sore subject with her. "Dem no good muthafuggahs always be chasin' dem white bitches! You crackahs gots to unnerstand' dat all our men jes' be dogs. Dey gone' stick dey dick in what ebbah lettem'! ain't no such thing as a loyal black man." She was fuming. No doubt she'd lost more than one smooth talking buck to another female.JOOM: "But why white women? They go after them with a vengeance!"
MAMMIE: She gave me a sly smile. "You fuggin' crackahs ain't figgad dat out yet? Hyuck! Hyuck! Dey be aftah yo women to screw you ovah whitey! Ebba time dey knock up one o' yo bitches, dats one less crackah an' one mo' brutha instead! Dey sticken' it to you!"JOOM: "But that's still got to piss you black women off to high hell, so why do you put up with it? She scowled at me.
MAMMIE: "An' jest' what da f**k izz we spose' ta do bout' it, huh? You think a hard dick gonna listen to us? Sheeiit foo!! Course' we don' like it! But our men gonna sneak around an' do it anyway. Dey jes' loved dat white pussy. Yo wimmin izz pretty and dey smells nice, and dey makes a brutha feel like he a big man, ya know? He can brag and show her off to all de bloods." She leans in close to me for a second and says in a low voice, "An he can be jes' as mean as he wants to her an' she ain't gonna do sheeiit bout' it cept' maybe cry. He try dat sheeiit on a sistah an' he get his jive ass throat cut!" I could tell she meant it too.JOOM: Well, her words pretty much confirmed everything I had believed about niggers. Their motives were 100% evil. One thing about living back in Africa is that a nigger doesn't have the opportunity or the temptations to develop the evil nature most bucks have here in the Western world. No crack, no white women, no bling-bling, no American goodies. Just a simple life with simple rules...
"Well Mammie, I can see that you're wanting to go now, so I won't keep you any longer. You've answered most of the questions I had on my list, and you did a real good job of it too. Here's your money." I handed her the fifty bucks. She grabbed at it like it was air and she was drowning. I had no doubts what she'd use it for..and soon. She smiled hugely at my praise, but she was really in a hurry, now that she had my money in her grimy claws. "Thanks again Mammie. You have a good one." We shook hands and she turned and beat feet down the block. And just like that she was gone. Most hos don't own a car. It would cut too deep into their crack money and besides, the thing would get stolen and stripped in ten minutes...I grabbed up all my gear and headed for the truck. I'd have offered to give her a ride home out of courtesy, but I knew she wanted to see her local dealer, which no doubt was nearby. This had been quite a unique experience. I knew I'd come up with a bunch more questions that I'd wish I had asked her, but for now this was good enough. I'd learned a hell of a lot. Blacks were a race of children, just like Albert Schweitzer had said. They were lost kids in a land not of their choosing. Perhaps one day I could be part of the solution...
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