By Professor Fred Whitted NORTH CAROLINA (BASN) — The title above...
Straight No Chaser: Ol’ Henry
Would you want this dumb-ass jock setting any examples for your children? But then again, all moms did willing have sexual intercourse with this sex machine, he didn’t rape anyone.
That fact in-itself is tragic and all so very revealing.
This whole sex-scapade could be taken lightly, be all about stereotypes; jungle fever infested white women, lining up for superior sex with a Black mandingo, who clearly has savage-like sexual desires .
My Aunt Johnnie Mae would read this drama laden bs everyday, tune-in – everyday. It’s a whole season or two on a soap oprah . . . .
Or, Travis’s life, the disaster he’s made of it, does present a opportunity to explore why a grown ass man could impregnate damn near a dozen women, keep steppin’ after each one.
And apparently never fill the need to strap a helmet on Sargent Sperm. Lock down his semen. If I could, I’d set this cat down with Dr Alvin Pouissant, try to figure out why he kept on screwing . . .
And, I’d find out why his reckless mass production of kids – was not frowned upon by his peers. That’s the question I’d like to turn upside down, inside-out and all around . . . .
Why does fathering children . . . and then abandoning them . . . give you stature and status in da hood? Why is there little shame anymore in having babies by a man – who has other babies with other women?
Do we, as Black people have any idea how detrimental this is to our overall success and happiness? Its really done nothing more then create a permanent black underclass.
If I had 11 kids, by 10 different women, my mother would have done what she always threaten to do, she-da’ “slapped me silly” after baby number 2 . . . Then when I got busted for trying to push coke . . . in Montana . . ., she would have come down to the jail house, and in front of everybody . . . “slapped my teeth down my throat.”
Then, when I was drug tested . . . busted for floating around with flammable, damn near combustible blood, while awaiting a federal drug trail . . . She would have “slapped the Black off me.”
My dad, being so disgusted, for being reckless and careless with life, throwing away an free education and a career in the NFL . . .
would have, after baby 2, put his foot so far up my ass . . . you’d have to call a AAA tow truck to get it out.
Maybe, without getting too sappy here, Travis is an example of what happens, when a man is not sure . . .what a man is? When he has no father or mother to strategically plant the seeds of decency.
Maybe Travis is the poster playboy for a generation of Back men who truly define themselves solely with their penises. In the estimation of many more of his peers then our L7 asses can phantom – Travis was the man, his babies defined and illustrated his alpha-maleness, his sexual prowess .
Ol’ Henry had mastered the art of human reproduction, got it down to a sad science. Henry’s baby making exemplifies the pirate like morals and values of a generation or two of young men, mildly educated plaaay-yaaas’, pimps, pillagers and plunderers – on the run, taking what they can.
Yes, some came willing, others seduced, but nonetheless . . . heartbreakers and life-takers. Desperadoes, who from day one, their chances of success have been a Vegas long shot.
Henry’s attitude is what’s wrong with Black America, Black men in particular, our disregard for human life. The hypocritical audacity to “bitch and cry” about how “my father left us” and then turn around and do precisely the same thing, over and over, and over again.
I mean honestly mo-fo, tell me Travis – is your dumb ass merely stupid, or do you take pride in abandoning children . . . .You know, I don’t know. At 45. . . I know enough to know . . . that I don’t know. But I do know this man’s deeds are wrong and indefensible.
At best, all I can offer up is a cold ass plate of neck bones; Might Travis simply reflect Richard Pryor’s argument . . .
“White folks took everything else” from the Black man but our testicles, that’s why so many of us walk around holding them, it’s all we’ve got left.”
Our hearts, minds and backs have been broken.
There are few other expression’s of manhood or achievement for a Black man – other than to be a “buck” a “stud.” Black men, for centuries, well into my childhood, were not permitted – no let me employ something heavier, like “black men were forbidden to acquire the essential tools and skills to be legitimate breadwinners, to be craftsmen and professionals, to be real men, to be legit competition in the work place, the classroom, the boardroom and the bedroom.
Of course there’s been an endless effort by American culture to dismantle the Black family and community. To destroy the Black psyche, the spirit of a people . . . out of fear of Black Power.
Just the term, Black Power still to this day scares white people. They don’t like Black people, instead they prefer Niggers.
Travis isn’t a Black man, he’s not an Afro-American, he’s a Nigger – dumb, thoughtless, reckless, clueless, irresponsible, self-destructive . . . but rather a harmless threat to their well being.
That history explains a portion of what may be responsible for Henry’s actions, he comes out of a environment where producing illegitimate bastardized children is explainable to the point of being acceptable, but . . . he had free will to follow common sense – shakin’, bakin, and skatin’ away is not right.
Note this nut sat in college classrooms; knowledge and information was for the taking. How could Henry not understand the seriousness of where he put his penis, the consequences and never-ending repercussions? Travis had to know better.
I have no mercy nor sympathy for him, off with his testicles . . . !
Henry represents the dumbest of the dumb. The most thoughtless and clueless of the numb-skulls. A role-model for fools. If your looking for the bottom of the barrel – here it is, Travis Henry.
Even if this clown was raised by a band of wolfs, there’s no excuse for his misdeeds. And I’m not going to be the guy to try to offer them. Without pause, there’s White Trash, and without hesitation there’s Black trash, and here’s a piece, Travis Henry.
Oddly most living and breathing creatures don’t abandon their offspring . . . humans do. And we do it tragically after consideration, after supposedly weighing, measuring and pounding it out in that special place – between our ears, where some of us determine right from wrong, where you hear your grandmother talk to you, set your ass straight.
Ol’ Henry here, must be as deaf as a snake. He ain’t got no ears. He don’t hear nobody in his head but Hugh Hefner. This man’s little mind . . . about sharp as a AMC bowling ball. Yet, his penis – as hard as a Alabama oak tree stump.
Matter-of-factly, Henry undermines Black Power, he is the opposite of it. He is Black Weakness personified . . . .