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Everything You Wanted To Know About White People Sh*t But Were Afraid To Ask

Yesterday, 16 people died in a hot air balloon accident. I am writing this without having investigated the victims, or even knowing their names, but I am willing to bet all seventeen of these dollars in my pocket that they were not “urban” or “underprivileged.” Without having access to any of their ethnicities, I’ll put up this ten-dollar bill, a five and two ones against whatever is in your pocket, that none of the victims were wearing a pair of Jordans or regularly ate adequately seasoned food. Do you wanna know how I know?

Because going up in a hot air balloon with 15 of your closest friends is White People Shit.

*editors note: When referring to “white people” this writer does not literally mean all white people. He vehemently resisted this note, because he said that humor is built on generalization of truths and intelligent people know that nothing in the universe is 100%, but judging from the comments and emails from the aggrieved subset of our caucasian readers, we felt it necessary.

I did not invent the phrase, but during a time when Donald Trump and people who have an affinity for the number fourteen (Because of the “14 most important words”: We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children) have eschewed political correctness, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You know what “White People Shit” is.

Perhaps it exists because of a cultural difference that evolved through historical context. Every human being needs an element of danger to facilitate the feeling of being alive. Since the days of cave men, we have always needed intermittent doses of adrenaline, but there are no more saber-toothed tigers leaping out of jungle shrubbery. We no longer have to hunt bison to eat, thus, White people no longer get to feel the heart-racing thrill of danger and excitement on a regular basis.

People of color don’t have to worry about this problem. We get our doses of adrenaline in other ways. You don’t need to bungee jump in order to feel that telltalle pap-pap in your chest when you have to worry about fugitive slave hunters. Black people don’t spend time learning how to base jump off skyscrapers in flying squirrel suits partly because flashing blue lights make our hearts race at the same speed, wondering if this is the time we will be shot in the face. Or  back. That’s why you don’t read about Black guys having to saw their arms off with a rusty can opener after getting stuck while rock climbing–we have Black people problems.

But White people love unnecessary risk. We are lucky enough to live in a time with helicopters, airplanes, drones and–I assume–jetpacks are coming soon… Wait a minute. Can y’all do me a favor? I am about to go off on a brief rant about jet packs. If you are only interested in dissecting White People Shit, feel free to skip the next two paragraphs.

Whatever happened to jetpacks? When I was a kid, every prediction of the future included the fact that we were going to have two things available to the general population: Watches that you could talk to people on (Which is the only reason I bought an Apple Watch), and jetpacks. In every one of my Childcraft encyclopedias or Highlights magazines they promised me that by the year 2000 we’d be able to fly around with rockets strapped to our backs. What happened?

Was it because of the price of jet fuel? Was it because they didn’t want people drinking and flying? Were they afraid of offending Superman? I think I know what is was: It was political correctness and gender equality. If they started selling jetpacks tomorrow, the only people who would be left out would be women with big booties. Then you’d have complaints of racism and sexism. Taylor Swift would post pictures of her star-spangled bedazzled jetpack parties and Kim Kardashian would just be stuck riding around in one of her Bentleys. Then comes the class action lawsuits. Goddammit Kim Kardashian. You did this to us! I want my fucking jetpack!

Anyway, White people love unnecessary risk. We are lucky enough to live in a time with helicopters, airplanes, drones and–I assume–jetpacks are coming soon, so why the hell would anyone want to climb into a wicker basket with a flame thrower attached to a balloon? Did I mention there was fire involved? And a balloon? You entrust your lives to the science of the 1700’s? They didn’t even have cable then… I don’t think. No, I’m pretty sure. They might have had basic cable but definitely no HBO. What I’m saying is–you shouldn’t trust the technology of any nerd who hasn’t watched “Game of Thrones.” Have you even seen the Wizard of Ox, white people?

If you think I’m being prejudiced, let me ask you a question, and I want you to answer it honestly:

If you went to up to random people and said, “Hey, I have an idea for what we can do Saturday. Let’s go for a flight in an oversized picnic basket using only the technology of fire breathing into a nylon handkerchief.”

How many Black people do you think you’d have to ask before 15 of them said yes? 100,ooo? 1 million? 3 million?

Wrong.

All of them.

And you’d still  only get 12 at the most.

And when you told them they had to pay to do it, you’d be left with 3 black people. Four at the max

But white people pay to do that shit.

These are not racial differences, these are cultural differences. The combination of disposable income and the lack of a natural predator engenders a predilection for danger. Black people will ride a motorcycle, and that’s about it. There used to be a joke that White people like the danger of parachuting out of planes, but Black people like the danger of smoking crack, but now we know that crack cocaine use during the 80’s and 90’s was mostly by white people–even though Black people were arrested at 5 times the rate for it–more proof that Black’s don’t need danger.

So I have a plea to all of my white friends: Stop it. We love you. We need you. We need to address this problem.

Now you probably think this is a silly article that traded on stereotypes and tropes for the sake of making myself feel good, but you should know this: When you die from these kinds of dangerous activities, it is technically suicide, which is a sin and a crime.

Therefore we cannot talk about curbing violence, school shootings and comprehensive gun control until we stop this plague of White on White Crime.

Until then, maybe y’all should stop saying “White Lives Matter.”

Ha.

raw

About the author

Michael Harriot is a renowned spoken word poet, the host of The Black One podcast and the editor-in-chief of NegusWhoRead. He is perpetually just getting warmed up because he has no chill. He is on Instagram and twitter as @michaelharriot

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