بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaam-Alaikum Dear Sisters & Brothers!!

Who Dat? I always knew they said that out here in Nawlins’, but never knew why. I thought it was from some movie where I think Fats Waller said, “Who dat say who dat when I say who dat?” Or something.

But, I noticed sometimes when I go around groups of people, someone would sometimes blurt out “Who dat?” And once these people were about to fight and one of them said, “Let’s wait until the police leave!” Talking about me!

It’s kinda hurtful when people don’t trust me, especially my own people. But I’ve been accused of being an agent online before, so I just ignore them now.

Lately, I’ve been letting my appearance do the talking for me anyway. I’m getting ready for marriage. So, I just let my garment speak for itself and just answer questions from those intelligent enough to ask. Just Black People, of course. I’ve been iggin’ devils for daze.

But today, I went to this area where a Brother informed me I could find an inexpensive apartment near Congo Square.

I was disappointed. It looked neglected like Central City and there were far too many devils for my taste. Nevertheless, it beats being homeless. So, I took down some numbers.

Then, I got to a main street and was going to turn back. I don’t like living on main streets, but for some reason I end up there. :/ Zawji reminded me I’m homeless, and don’t have the luxury of being choosy.

So, I’m seeing nothing but devils in an area where there are banners on the light poles celebrating the 250th anniversary of the Oldest Black Neighborhood in America!!! Da fucc? I was instantly pissed. It was turning out to be one of those daze.

Everybody seemed to be uptight anyway and I got really fired up.

I had just seen this Brother in Congo Square selling T-Shirts celebrating Tremé – The Oldest Neighborhood for people of color” 

That part right there!



I went in on him. Poor Brother.

So then, I’m walking down the busy street and I see a For Rent sign. It was a two-bedroom for $1800. I laughed out loud! There were more condos and street cafes designed for and by devils than Black People in THE OLDEST BLACK NEIGHBORHOOD IN AMERICA. GTFOH

And then! I see two devils filming this Brother. First I think, he’s a News Reporter, but I’ve never seen a reporter with TWO cameramen. So, I asked him what they were filming. He said something, I can’t remember. Probably something like a documentary or something. So, I asked him how did he become involved with the project. He said they were just stopping people on the street. But, I didn’t believe him because he looked like he had dressed for the occasion.

Then, I tried to tell him, he shouldn’t be taking devils around our community, especially on film because it’s just going to attract more devils. He started trying to defend himself and I turned around and that devil had his lens all up in my grille.

I told him I didn’t consent to being on film but devils think they can still do as they please. So, I just tried to convince my Brother to try and preserve something for his own kind then the devil said, “That’s racist!” So, the Brother started in on that part.

Eventually, I got fed up and walked away but I turned around and they were still filming me so I walked directly up to the camera and stared straight into the lens,

“Beloved Black Americans, read MESSAGE TO THE BLACKMAN IN AMERICA by The Honorable Elijah Muhammad (PBUH). The TIME OF SEPARATION from our Devil Slavemasters Has Arrived. Their time is up but we have the opportunity to be saved. We must do something for self and give the devil back the chains of mental slavery that keep us in bondage to him – His names and his dirty religion of Christianity. We must go for self.  Stop intermingling and intermarrying with them or you will become deserving of Hellfire as they are. The Time Has Come To Go For Self. Google Message To The Blackman in America and read it online for free. But stay away from Louis Farrakhan!”

Or Something Like That……..

So, the devil was trying to interrupt me the whole time, but I igged him. Then the Brother comes back, so I tried to talk to him some more. But, when he said he had already read Message To The Blackman, I knew that there was no hope for him so I just gave him the greetings and broke.

I stopped at the store to get my daily rations on the way home, and was walking past the cashier and the line ( :/ ) on my way out the door, when I overheard the cashier tell this older cat he was till a little short, as I walked past with my bag full.

I thought to myself, “My ancestors paid for everything in this bag. The owners of this store and the manufacturers who make this shit don’t even have to work. All they do is sit back, buy and sell companies and count money. They pay their slaves barely enough to get by just like in the days of physical bondage. All we can afford is food, clothes and shelter and we have to go back to them to buy it, just giving the money right back to them! Shiiiiiiiid, my shit is more than paid for. They owe me! 400 years of FREE LABOR!!!??? And this Brother can’t even afford a fucking CANDY BAR!!! So, until ya’ll designate some land wherein we can provide for ourselves the necessities of life, which you are obligated to do after we BUILT this country for you FOR FREE, under your brutal and merciless hands, I’ll just take this leather-bound journal and these vittles as collateral. Thank-you kindly, Ms. Security Guard, You have a ‘blessed day’ too, Muthafucka! PEACE!”

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