Criminal

Banku, Criminality & Democracy.

And Having Skin in The Game. Die for Something.

If over 90 percent of the votes of a group of people go to a government that claims that eating Banku is a crime, then eating Banku is a crime. Else, if your people want to eat Banku, then they need to show the political will to defy the political criminality of eating Banku.

Otherwise, you can’t have over 90 percent of your voting women, and well over 90 percent of your voting men, vote for a party that criminalizes Banku and jails Human Beings for absolutely no law enforcement reason for decades for eating Banku.

And then when your son hides in the bush, eats Banku and is caught eating Banku, and he is sent to prison for a decade for eating Banku, you claim your son is not a criminal?

These new people understand only war, red war to the finish. ~ Shaka I (Zulu King).

No, no, no, no. Have some self respect! You enforced/seconded and endorsed the criminality of your own son. That is how democracy works. There are no absolutes. You fight (and you have to be willing to die) for what you want. Else, like Muammar Gaddafi, you take the sodomizing that comes with the territory.

The history of our world shows that the world does not treat people who have no skin in the game very kindly. In fact, the world maltreats those with no skin in the game. The game is a game, but it has first order, second order, third order, real and immediate consequences. You really want something? Die for it. Unfortunately that is the only way other Human Beings know, for certain, that you actually want it.

Blood, you see, is everything! You pour yours to get what you want our someone will waste yours for his peculiar, specific aggrandizement. You want something? Die for it.

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~ Success is a horrible teacher. It seduces the ignorant into thinking that he can’t lose. It seduces the intellectual into thinking that he must win. Success corrupts; Only usefulness exalts. ~ WP. Narmer Amenuti (which names translate: Dances With Lions), was born by The River, deep within the heartlands of Ghana, in Ntoaboma. He is a public intellectual from the Sankoré School of Critical Theory, where he trained and was awarded the highest degree of Warrior Philosopher at the Temple of Narmer. As a Culture Critic and a Guan Rhythmmaker, he is a dilettante, a dissident and a gadfly, and he eschews promotional intellectualism. He maintains strict anonymity and invites intellectuals and lay people alike to honest debate. He reads every comment. If you enjoyed this essay and would like to support more content like this one, please pour the Ancestors some Libation in support of my next essay, or you can go bold, very bold and invoke them. Here's my CashApp: $TheRealNarmer

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