Savage Black Rites in New York City
by Douglas Mercer
SANFORD Biggers is described as an “interdisciplinary artist” who resides in Harlem. Just the other day one of his “art works” was unveiled in New York City at Rockefeller Center.
What he did was drop on to America a twenty foot tall statue of a primitive-looking seated Congoid with an outsize head, which seems to be presiding over some rite, some ceremony.
The piece is called “The Oracle.”
What is it telling us?
In the Time of Floyd, the Perfect Groid, this is the perfect symbol. In a once-White city founded by the Dutch and the English, up goes this horrid abomination from the deepest heart of savage Africa, profaning all that is sacred with its unholy rite. It is a totem of horror.
In the era when the Magic Negro is exalted above all as a “moral” exemplar, we now have this Demon Larva with the hideously distorted face, brutal simian features, and a demented countenance beyond the nightmares of Bedlam, lording it over us in our civic space. Sitting in judgement of us, as it were.
The figure conjures up images of Lovecraftian terror and dread, of voodoo, and weird cultic rites, usually involving eating people or something vaguely similar to people but more disgusting, or of digging up the bones of an albino and wielding them to “make big magic.”
In a time when every Negro demand is met with servile reverence, when images of the first cousin of erectus flood our media, when the feral Black with a pound of crack where his brain used to be is the holiest of figures, when every institution in our land from the courts to the police kneel in front of sub-animals, this is what you get.
Congoids have always been a childish and immature species, unfit for civilization. With a substantial dark side — in more ways than one.
Now one of their own, a stunted and malformed thing from the far recesses of the fevered jungle dreams of the Black unconscious, rules over us all. An oracle, they call it. Delphi it is not.
What does it say?
Why, what else would it say?
Kill the White man; kill the White man — C-I-L-L-L de wide mahn.
This is how the consciousness of Universe winks out.
If we let it. Let’s not let it.
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