Monday, October 18, 2010
Negro I am, I'll stay negro *
Arabic liar, thief, Arabic, Chinese workers, but dirty, greedy Jew, a French sexually free, latino hot rabbit, negress panther, the black woman lascivious dancer the negro, the negro Interior, the footballer negro, the negro ... lazy strike! Looking around a bit, we could find others to provide ideas to Jean-Paul Guerlain for her little specific racist stereotypes. So that the negro loafer, bum, he has chosen to serve in silence staggering on the plateau of 13 hours from France 2 last Friday.
"I worked as a negro, I do not know if the blacks have always worked so hard, but still ...." This is the second part of the sentence, 13 words, which earned him ... what? It has sought, it has waited for all weekend in the mouth of all these political leaders, an early conviction, excitement, indignation. Only Christine Lagarde's response. For others, we are still waiting. In France, we can speak words racist to prime time on national media without any great voice, political, intellectual or artistic will be moved. Oh, the associations are doing their job, threatening to complain. But speaking of scum? Scandal? Shame? Obscenity? Sputum? Sputum, that this very distinguished Mr. Guerlain has not only thrown in the face of all blacks today, but, dear Mr. Guerlain on the remains of millions of dead in the hold, to fund Ocean, deported from their homeland to the new world. These millions of people enslaved, degraded, dehumanized, for four centuries, reduced to the level of arms and hands for fields of cotton, sugar cane fields, the bite of the whip or that of the mastiff, all these slaves, sold as a force ... work! No men, no, no fathers or mothers who are tearing their children as are other animals, not humans, but tools, equipment. Goods. Dear Mr. Guerlain
you which one of the perfumes was sufficient alone to reassure the child that I was absent when his mother, whose name you came with me, from mother to daughter, sister, sister, as far as I can remember and which I can never, never, wear any fragrance, me nigger, I reread, I dedicate these few lines written Aimé Césaire: "Vibe vibrates ... essence of the shadow in throats wing is to destroy the forces of the word negro, fully armed out of the howling of a poisonous flower, the word negro, while pouacre parasites ... the word negro, while full of robbers who prowl, mothers screaming, children crying, the word negro, a sizzling of burning flesh, pungent and horn, the word negro, like the sun is bleeding from the claw on the pavement of clouds, the word negro, as calved the last laugh of innocence between the fangs of the tiger, and as the word sun is a snap of the ball, and as the word night, tearing a taffeta ... the word negro, thickly you know, thunder a summer that arrogate freedoms unbelievers ".
Aimé Césaire who, insult, also said one day: "Well the negro, he fuck you! ".
