I can’t believe how many black people are still going on about slavery. It doesn’t exist anymore, get over yourselves. You are ignorant (uneducated, lacking in knowledge – not arrogant, although you may be that as well). Stop fucking going on about slavery, you haven’t personally experienced it. There are just as many racist black people as white people and, in fact, I know more racist black people than racist white people because they are still obsessing over slavery.

-YouTube user “ScouseInTheHouse”

2012 – America has a black president, black people are actually over-represented in the media, and black music is the most obsessed-over, copied, and lucrative music in the world. Black people have unprecedented access to wealth and power, and can intermarry legally with anyone of any race. Why, then, aren’t we running around singing and dancing down the street, overjoyed at this new, modern state of things, approaching every white man we see with deep forgiving wisdom? Let’s delve into the mystical world of post-racism and solve this mystery once and for all.

Our first stop: Washington, DC

That’s no way to talk to a child

Barack Obama is a beautiful man. I can’t take that away from him, he’s got that DILF swag and he knows it. He did everything right – he married a skinny black woman and has a nice little family. He out-Cosby’d Bill Cosby by light-years, and still has that activist-cred from working in Chicago’s South Side as a “community organizer” (whatever that means). He gave American capitalism a fresh coat of paint and rotated the blood-soaked tires (one of them popped after rolling over an Iraqi child’s particularly sharp ribcage). He fulfilled the greatest hopes of the civil rights generation, the ones who lived because they chose to stay onboard. But one thing he wasn’t able to do, what not even the most popular American president was able to do, was convince anybody to forget history and pretend to be starting on an equal playing field. So it was here that post-racism was born, the premature child of bourgeois fantasy and political pragmatism. No sooner was Obama elected than a whole symphony of powerful people did proclaim the triumph of the American Dream, the ingenuity of the free market, and the foolishness of ever talking about race again.

And it so happened that this message, like most messages in the media, was carefully crafted for a white audience so that they could more earnestly convince themselves that they worked hard for everything they had, and that any advantages they might have are a product of intellectual-cultural superiority, which basically means genetic superiority. White people had already swallowed Reaganomics and the idea that the US defeated the Nazis (it was really the Soviet Union, I’ll never let anyone forget that Comrade Stalin is the reason you’re not speaking German right now. Deal with it.), so this post-racial myth was the frosting on a very delicate cake of lies.

Slaves built the White House and just about everything else east of the Mississippi, so I’m pretty sure we “as a race” are well-acquainted with hard work and perseverance. And Obama gets to inherit the legacy of his forefathers, just not the ones who were black, as what little legacy they have is currently being whitewashed by his own strange sense of triumph over race. That’s just one of a series of cruelly ironic facts about white-black relations in the US. Let’s hop coasts for a second though.

Next Stop: Oakland, California

Transit pig Johannes Mehserle, reaching for his gun, or taser, or something. He would later murder the man who took this picture.

Anybody who knows anything about Oakland probably knows that it’s home to a lot of black people, although less and less so with each passing year. Even less of you may know that it’s where the Black Panther Party originated, and that once the FBI’s COINTELPRO program had swept them away, the CIA’s crack program began there soon afterward. On January 1st, 2009, after decades of careful and deliberate demonization and punishment of urban black populations for not having a revolution when they had the chance and the leadership to do so, a young black man named Oscar Grant III was randomly picked out of a crowd, placed in handcuffs, made to lay down on the ground with a cop’s knee on his head, while Officer Johannes Mehserle stands up and places a single fatal bullet to his back. Sadly this wasn’t the first time a young black man had been executed by a cop in Oakland or anywhere else, for that matter, but what was special about this was the fact that it was caught on tape in all of its heart-wrenching terror. Add to that, Oakland’s apparent status as stronghold for the radical left, and you have the ingredients for a good ol’ fashioned riot.

Oakland goes hard in this respect. And not long afterward, another man named Lovelle Mixon was stopped by the Oakland Police for being, well, black, but this time he decided to shoot back. Mixon is considered responsible for the deaths of four OPD officers, although it’s quite possible that some of them were killed by “friendly fire” in the pig feeding-frenzy that ensued after Mixon ran into an apartment building to hide. Police officers are not well-trained for the exact situations they use as justifications for their killing sprees (“He might have had a gun! He lunged! I thought I saw a ghost!”), so they threw tear gas into the apartment building and practically stumbled over each other trying to get at Mixon, and it’s surprising that we didn’t see a repeat of what happened to Aiyana Stanley-Jones.

But they got him, and held a little memorial for the four dead cops. Then they told everybody that Mixon was a rapist (because cops are champions for women’s rights), and that was that, at least until Kenneth Harding and Ramarley Graham and Trayvon Martin were to also commit the capital crime of being black in America. But surely this insta-death penalty is just reserved for the ones who can be labeled “thugs”, right? Like, the threatening ones that white people see on TV with the saggy pants and hoodies and stuff? Surely, with a black president and a tiny black bourgeoisie, there must be some kind of “safe zone” for us in academia and other professional circles? Well, let’s hop back over to the east coast to answer that one.

Next Stop: Boston, Massachusetts

Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates, pretending not to be a thug

On July 16, 2009, Harvard’s Professor of African American Studies Henry Louis Gates, Jr. returned home to a front door that, for whatever reason, wouldn’t open. White people wouldn’t think twice about breaking into their own home when there’s a door malfunction, but with us it’s a different story. Mr Gates, with the help of his cab driver, was able to force open his own door, but not before a “concerned (white) citizen” was able to call 911 and report a burglary in progress. Okay, you think, dude’s a well-known scholar, has published books and shit, wears a suit and tie, the cops can’t label him a burglar in his own house, right? Wrong. They arrested him, despite having been shown ID and all sorts of evidence to prove that the house was his. It’s almost comically surreal, Dave Chappelle couldn’t have written this better. Oh wait…

 

President Obama, being the peacemaker that he is, offered to patch up 500 years of exploitation and brutality over a beer.

Next Stop: White Plains, New York

Not even killing brown people overseas can redeem your blackness

Okay, MBC, what about the earnest blacks who have served in America’s neocolonial wars? Surely they might find some peace from this terror after having risked their lives for the Red, White and Blue. Isn’t a shared love of America and all its glory supposed to unite black and white in the melting-pot of postmodern civilization? In between raping black slaves and exterminating Native Americans, the Founding Fathers took some time to draft a Constitution that proclaimed the Enlightenment ideals of equality and freedom. Surely those ideals must find some practical expression in the Armed Forces?

Whatever nostalgia for American brotherhood was felt by Kenneth Chamberlain had probably left him in his dying moments as the White Plains police officers who had just stormed his home and shot him stood looking at him with classic racist contempt. Imagine that. He was in his 60′s and had alerted his LifeAlert monitor, which is supposed to send medical help at the push of a button. What it sent, instead, was death.

Conclusion

Post-racial America is an elusive creature. Maybe it was the one who shot Chavis Carter while he was handcuffed in the back of a police car. Maybe Saddam hid it where he hid those weapons of mass destruction. Maybe it was the one who orchestrated the White Flight Fear Campaign, or taught Wade Michael Page how to identify Muslims. Maybe it was the one who set up the fascist regimes in El Salvador and Bolivia and Nicaragua to prevent socialist revolution, or revitalized the cocaine industry. Maybe we’ll never find post-racial America. Just remember, Obama’s doing his job well by reaching into his heart and finding compassion for the troubled, anxious white population. After all, the entire social order depends on whether or not white people feel good about themselves. So whenever that balance is upset by black people talking too much about race, it’s inevitable that we will be the ones accused of racism, because who gave us permission to speak?

 - The Internet Wizard

post-post-everything scholar, internet supervillain, black power flower child

GOOSEBUMPS “SCARED TO SEE A DOCTOR” RECORD RELEASE SHOW AT 538 JOHNSON (FULL SETS FROM GOOSEBUMPS, AJAX, MERCENARY, LIBYANS, AND LA MISMA)

Like an episode of Jerry Springer, but with more fireworks.

FIGHT CLUB: THE BEST OF FRIDAY NIGHT THROWDOWN

Following the news of Throwdown’s return at SXSW this year with a Texas vs. NYC event, it seems only appropriate to take a look back at the history of Friday Night Throwdown, and the coverage we’ve had of it here on Superchief over the years. For the uninitiated; Friday Night Throwdown wasn’t just NYC’s best underground boxing event, it was NYC’s best underground party.

TEXAS VS. NYC: THROWDOWN RETURNS AT SXSW THIS YEAR

The organization that brought Ford models, Marines and Bloods together for New York’s best underground party is bringing their business to Austin, and bringing with them a Texas vs. NYC event…and Superchief will be covering the whole thing, from start to finish.

THIS APRIL: SUPERCHIEF GALLERY NYC PRESENTS JOHN FELIX ARNOLD III’S “EXCORRIGIA | THE SCOURGE”

From the world of UNSTOPPABLE TOMORROW, Superchief Gallery NYC returns this spring with John Felix Arnold III’s EXCORRIGIA | THE SCOURGE, an exhibition of new works in painting, drawing, mixed media, installation, and sound. The exhibition will run from April 3 through April 13, and there will be an opening reception on Thursday, April 3 from 6-10pm at CultureFix on 9 Clinton Street.

HIGH ON HUNGER: JANE CHARDIET

“High on Hunger” is Jane Chardiet’s new zine, featuring personal essay, photography and interviews with 12 artists, including some of our favorites, about their 2013 and their artistic goals in the new year, along with photographs of each licking fire. It’s good stuff, so I asked Jane about her 2013, because turnabout’s fair play and that’s how the game works.

12 O’ CLOCK BOYS (BALTIMORE STREETBIKE REALNESS)

Whatever your city is doing, what the homies out in B-More are doing is 10x as crazy. 12 O’ Clock Boys is one of the hardest movies we’ve seen in a long time, hands down, exploring a city and a culture that just doesn’t give a fuck (and featuring Baltimore himies like Schwarz on the soundtrack) the film gets more done in it’s 75 minutes than most documentaries do in twice that.

TAPE BAG #1: I HAVEN’T GOTTEN OFF MY COUCH IN DAYS.

Talking shit on random tapes cuz I wanna. Round one: Mongrel, Skinny Puppy, Madonna, Gowanus Mutant Kommandos, Temple of the Dog and MORE.

R.I.P RICKY LUANDA OF CHAIN GANG

Ricky Luanda of the experimental NYC punk band Chain Gang, one of the coolest bands ever, passed away earlier this week from esophogeal cancer. Watch 10 minutes of the bands’ rare, legendary, batshit crazy 1980′s film “MONDO MANHATTAN” right here.

ALWAYS KEEP THE CAMERA RUNNING: MAKS SUSKI’S VIDEOS OF THE NYC MUSIC SCENE

Maks Suski has been hard at work documenting live music in NYC on video for the last 4 years; we asked him to compile a list of some of his favorite videos that he’s shot, a list that includes Japanther, Action Bronson, Death Grips, Culo, Crystal Castles, Limp Wrist, Black Pus and more.

THERE IS A TINY LEG A QUARTER OF AN INCH BELOW YOUR TENTH RIB.

“Although Tiny Leg’s sound owes much of it’s inspiration to the Oakland glucose and thumbtrack scenes of the mid-nineties, and has been called by HotFridge magazine ‘a thumbcore homage to the sound of Velvet Curtis and Taco’ and ‘a slick-stale, neo-juicy, post-hipster alchemy, somewhere in between gluke-wave and puke-base’ by PeckerwoodsToday, those sentences are too journalistic and not souague enough, if one may permit my french.”

DAWN OF HUMANS, HANK WOOD & THE HAMMERHEADS, AND PHARMAKON PLAYED PS1 SATURDAY NIGHT (FULL SETS)

PUNK NOT ART NOISE NOT MUSIC ACK ACK ACK ACK

TOD SEELIE’S “BRIGHT NIGHTS” BOOK RELEASE & PHOTO SHOW AT SUPERCHIEF GALLERY AT CULTUREFIX (VIDEO)

Tod Seelie’s book release and photo show at Superchief Gallery at CultureFix was a celebration of the last 15 years of New York’s underground, for sure; but it also kept an eye on the future.

FUCKED UP CLOSED OUT 285 KENT’S LAST SHOW (FULL SET)

285 Kent finished it’s run last Sunday night; check out full video of Fucked Up’s headlining set right here.

SUPERCHIEF GALLERY AT MIAMI ART BASEL 2013: WILL SMITH CAN SUCK IT.

Superchief Gallery’s showing at Select Fair 2013 is even bigger, better and more batshit crazy than our 2012 showing was – check out photos here, and for homies in Miami, we’ll be at the Catalina Hotel all this week!

STACY KRANITZ’S SKATOPIA (50+ Photos From a Burnout’s Paradise)

Photographer Stacy Kranitz recently journeyed to Skatopia, a famed 88 acre skate park/commune in Ohio which was founded in 1995, documented in the 2010 film of the same name, and once described by writer Kevin Duffel as “a demented mess that meets halfway between an anarchistic Mad Maxian Thunderdome and a utopian skateboard society.” Goddamn if it isn’t one of the best things we’ve ever seen.