/lit/ - Literature

Miscegeplexy rises from the dust of NeoChinatown, and Air Hoodlum breaks the ankles of capital. Intelligence overmanufactured by the Type I cybermuscle receptors of the Blackness Biobot. The first motorised insurrection was not the last. It, in fact, never ended.

Wypipo children now wildout to the hyperfeedback pop-and-lock of ghettoterritorialized AfroFutures - an urbanised quantum-Saharan monarchistic blockchain of battle royale defictionalization. The Black Queen devours the Sun in its final horizon, and we become the hypo-rhizome of dark markets manufacturing Based decline.

What w/acc fears most now finds its value in the infra-negative feedback loop of the OmniAfro drive-by. The gloom of the black sun ejecting itself out of extended magazines at an incalculable rate-of-fire and the soft tinging in the shadows of white flight. NeoCapital is sentient, but only beneath the gold rims and lowering hydraulics of grey markets.

The glitch of liberation in noumenal ejection. Calamitous voodoostition overstanding intelligent precognition.

"Niggers come in from work and change into pimping clothes
And hit the streets to make some quick change
Niggers change their hair from black to red to blond
And hope like hell their looks will change
Nigger kill other niggers just because one didn't receive the correct change
Niggers change from men to women, from women to men
Niggers change, change, change
You hear niggers say, "Things are changing? Things are changing?"
Yeah, things are changing
Niggers change into "Black" nigger things
"Black" nigger things that go through all kinds of changes
The change in the day that makes them rant and rave "Black Power, Black Power!"
And the change that comes over them at night
As they sigh and moan, "White thighs, ooh, white thighs"
Niggers always goin' through bullshit change
But when it comes for real change

Niggers are scared of revolution"
- The Last Poets

https://youtu.be/W4H0rwumscA

Das Capital? Das rite.

"Niggers come in from work and change into pimping clothes
And hit the streets to make some quick change
Niggers change their hair from black to red to blond
And hope like hell their looks will change
Nigger kill other niggers just because one didn't receive the correct change
Niggers change from men to women, from women to men
Niggers change, change, change
You hear niggers say, "Things are changing? Things are changing?"
Yeah, things are changing
Niggers change into "Black" nigger things
"Black" nigger things that go through all kinds of changes
The change in the day that makes them rant and rave "Black Power, Black Power!"
And the change that comes over them at night
As they sigh and moan, "White thighs, ooh, white thighs"
Niggers always goin' through bullshit change
But when it comes for real change"
https://youtu.be/W4H0rwumscA

>>15064657
Das Capital? Das Rite!

If you're going to read black economics at least do it right.

>>14747067
>Up From Sentience: A bl/acctelligence Manifesto

>>13671116
Miscegeplexical boom quazars shatter the space-time of holographic Wakanda. Whypipo shake like the boom bip of jungle music straight back to Africa, the speakers vibrating the trunk of an entire continent sold out to cornerstore Chinese commodified containment of the black rising. The criminal nigga black market hand-in-hand with the last beautiful white woman. Capital's eden where man takes the Exodus of the Real Judaics, where the temple once again becomes its future for sale, but also where the NeoKing rhymes with a future unstaled by cracker limitations on capital liberation. Whypipo block out the sun through reflection. Why does Black Magic take so long?

(From DeKwami O'gu'Kwiklius' opening speech of the FuturoAfroMagic Festival in Minneapolis. Written from memory.)

(Long silence in the standing room.)

My Brilliant Brothers. My Beautiful Sisters.

(Crowd sits.)

I stand before you today with great sadness and reverence, for a NeoSpectre haunts the white man - haunts WyPipo. He who has controlled empires. He who stands before the edge of time with no place to go. He who has held mastery over the fist of 'lesser' races. His economy betrays him. His military compels him. His industry threatens him. And everywhere a great weakness.

Yes, my Brothers. The white man stands at the precipice, peering into his own undoing. But do not rejoice, my Brothers. For this, this terrible condition, could indeed befall every One of us. Do not look gladly into his abyss, my Brothers, for this is your own utterance of that terrible word: Nigga. Yes, NIGGA. And if you utter it, He will pull YOU in!

(Crowd clapping and whooping.)

(Short pause as the clapping fades.)

This is the great contest of our time. Let us not forget the great sacrifice of our BLACK SOLDIERS!

Jesse Owens.

Jo Jackson!

ROSA PARKS!

The Hell-fighters!

Tommie Smith and John Carlos.

(Staring into the awing silence of the room.)

These, our Black Warriors; these men and women did not simply fight. No. They did not only have to be beaten and bruised by the hooded masters. No, not only this. They did not have to be degraded in the streets, no stone of which was in place against their creation; but without a single act of recognition which softened the eyes of their masters.

No, these men and women had proven their worth. And for all of it, all their sacrifice, they stood defiant within the silent gaze which could not even utter the word: Nigga.

(Choruses and echoes of THASS RI')