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king-emare:

my nigga Rain

rumoko:

Hulk Hogan is an asset to America

ok really though, he rides past some Joe Schmo who is hucking his dog into the water.

deycallmetrey:

I’m so weak rn

deycallmetrey:

I’m so weak rn

olitadelaltamar:

officialcrow:

historicaltimes:

Harassment during a civil rights sit-in at the Cherrydale Drug Fair in Arlington, VA June 10, 1960 -
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this is what I see when I see white kids dress up like pinup girls and greasers

these are the white grandpas of today

Yup these are now our elderly population who sit around saying shit like they hate porch monkeys, or Indian people are rude and thieves, and because they’re from a “different era” it’s excusable
This is the era they’re from.

olitadelaltamar:

officialcrow:

historicaltimes:

Harassment during a civil rights sit-in at the Cherrydale Drug Fair in Arlington, VA June 10, 1960 -

Read More

this is what I see when I see white kids dress up like pinup girls and greasers

these are the white grandpas of today

Yup these are now our elderly population who sit around saying shit like they hate porch monkeys, or Indian people are rude and thieves, and because they’re from a “different era” it’s excusable

This is the era they’re from.

humansofnewyork:

“My happiest memories are from when I was growing up in South Carolina. I remember sitting in the kitchen, waiting on breakfast and listening to the coffee perkin’. My grandmother had her own garden, and my grandfather had his own grocery store, so we always had fresh vegetables and grits and bacon and eggs. That was a big deal back then in the 50’s— for a black man to own a grocery store. If someone needed credit, my grandfather would just write their name in a book. And if they couldn’t pay, he’d just forget about it. He was shorter than I was, and very quiet. But everybody respected him. He used to walk to the store every morning before dawn, with a 38’ in his hand. Every night he’d walk home with that same gun in his hand. Even the white delivery men called him Mr. Robinson. MISTER Robinson.”

humansofnewyork:

“My happiest memories are from when I was growing up in South Carolina. I remember sitting in the kitchen, waiting on breakfast and listening to the coffee perkin’. My grandmother had her own garden, and my grandfather had his own grocery store, so we always had fresh vegetables and grits and bacon and eggs. That was a big deal back then in the 50’s— for a black man to own a grocery store. If someone needed credit, my grandfather would just write their name in a book. And if they couldn’t pay, he’d just forget about it. He was shorter than I was, and very quiet. But everybody respected him. He used to walk to the store every morning before dawn, with a 38’ in his hand. Every night he’d walk home with that same gun in his hand. Even the white delivery men called him Mr. Robinson. MISTER Robinson.”

dsandra:

dsandra:

yarrahs-life:

SERIOUSLY should have more notes. Why do ppl hate or not care about the truth?

I tell this to my children often.

also a murderous colonizer.

dsandra:

dsandra:

yarrahs-life:

SERIOUSLY should have more notes. Why do ppl hate or not care about the truth?

I tell this to my children often.

also a murderous colonizer.

Somebody in the crowd fired a pistol and the people again started to scream hysterically, ‘Kill the niggers! Kill the niggers! Pour gasoline on the niggers!’ The mob started to throw stones on top of my car. So I opened the door of the car and I put one foot on the ground and I stood up in the door holding an Italian carbine. All this time three policemen had been standing about 50 feet away from us while we kept waiting in the car for them to come and rescue us. Then when they saw that we were armed and the mob couldn’t take us, two of the policemen started running. One ran straight to me, grabbed me on the shoulder and said, ‘Surrender your weapon! Surrender your weapon!’ I struck him in the face and knocked him back away from the car and put my carbine in his face and told him that we didn’t intend to be lynched. The other policeman who had run around the side of the car started to draw his revolver out of the holster. He was hoping to shoot me in the back. They didn’t know that we had more than one gun. One of the students (who was 17 years old) put a .45 in the policeman’s face an told him that if he pulled out his pistol he would kill him.

The policeman started putting his gun back into the holster and backing away from the car and he fell into the ditch. There was a very old man, an old white man, out in the crowd, and he started screaming and crying like a baby, and he kept crying and he said, ‘God damn, God damn what is this God damn country coming to that the niggers have got guns, the niggers are armed and the police can’t even arrest them?!’ He kept crying and somebody led him away through the crowd.

Robert F. Williams

Telling the reason why he called his book “Negros with guns.” This book had an important influence on the Black Panther Party. The quote is a selection from the book.

Several years later, Williams explains why he felt that the old white man was crying:

"It took me a long time to understand his feeling. Now I realize why he was crying. Because the gun had been the thing that had always kept them on top, and the police power. And he could see that slipping away, and his way of life was going. And this is why he was crying. And this is why I named my book "Negro’s with Guns."

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMkKsW5jCQc

(via disciplesofmalcolm)