Violence play in the background

of every encounter between people without pigment, only one step removed from the jungle from which we escaped on to the broad open plains of the future, complete with battle-axes, beer, and long cold nights with heifers. Sounds like home. Violence is abstracted into games and contests, competition and capitalism. For the people of color who stayed back in the ‘hood’, the violence is open, not merely alluded to. The jungle lives on and life is nasty, mean, brutish, and short. Humans maintain their close relations with their close relatives and the price of bush meat is cheap. The Middle East lightens up a little, but not much. Religion takes over where instinct leaves off, and women bear the brunt of the burden, propping up the overweight egos of hunters who can no longer hunt, and caravan raiders with no more caravans. Asia prefers the hierarchy of suppression. You kiss up and you beat down. Everybody knows their place whether they like it or not. Elaborate rituals back-fill the logic of repression, but the end-result is the same: you gotta’ serve somebody.

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