THE NEGRO NOTION OF INFINITY
by Constantin von Hoffmeister
In the house there was
a stove. The stove was hot. Something was cooking. A meal prepared for the
ones that will die. Prepared to seek relevant action, as the footsteps of
Kipling and Conrad are compared to those of Bigfoot and the Snowman. Farms
for food, farms for death. Mugabe that animal. Big steps for a small race,
a big race has to learn how to step small. White men limp
in numbers because the
numbers come: they speak in units that defy gravity, reason and self-preservation.
But what was in the stove? It sure smelled good, Bubba! But the time is now.
It sure smells good, Bubba! The first intelligent Frenchman on the Ivory
Coast says, "Behold him, and though Bubba stink of sweat, disdain him not,
for shall I tell you what? A pale-faced slave a darkie cannot be, therefore
let him be taught the veneration of the aristocratic archetype. And to serve
with ointment he shall learn to be cute!" And after a while the once beaming
white Ivory became dark and dull again. The elephants would never know what
hit them - but the White man knows how to use the poachers for gain, profit
and wishful doom thinking. Slum-boys, sand-monkeys and doo-doo promoters
now pave the way for an era free of neo-colonialism and apocalypticisms.
It is time for Orwell to wake up, as the elephants have now all been shot.
Not in the past of this world,
but in a distant dream,
a distant reality. "Bubba, but pray tell, what's cooking in the stove?" The
White man begs and yelps and whines and grovels, and Bubba firm and proud,
"Ostensible you are, my brother, but feed the family I won't. The luck of
isolation is now mine. And the family can now
suffer because I was
the one cast out of Eden." Is that a narcisstic nigger talking? "Bubba, the
stove! the stove!" Automatons of Eden, chicanery of the State-sponsored cooking
contest, "All in the pot! All in the stove!" This earth's material recalcitrance
is the cause, but not the effect of pulling
down the blinds, the
house symbolizing the divine cosmos and the stove..."what about the stove?"
The White man begs and yelps and whines and grovels. Bubba shits the sixties,
smiles and exclaims, "The stove is what's cookin' in the cosmos."