The scariest thing about Charles Manson’s plan is that it might have worked.
Even scarier, it might have worked out just the way he’d intended it to.
And this is a diss, yes, a diss to Black people because what he was essentially saying was not only were we idiots, but we didn’t even, in the end, trust each other.
And while the first part of that argument is debatable, the latter part is most indubitably true.
Of course, by now, everybody knows the story of Helter Skelter.
We know that Manson, failed musician like Hitler was a failed painter, lured a bunch of weirdos and loose chicks out into the deserts of California with the promises of drugs and easy sex during the 60’s.
What most people don’t talk about, what would be just as soon forgotten as many would prefer that most of Black history is forgotten, is that Manson fancied himself as some kinda John Brown of the bizarro world.
But instead of being a great liberator of the enslaved like Brown was, Manson’s plan was, in the wake of the Black Panthers and all the other Black militant and insurrectionist movements of the 60s, to actually help those movements – or blame them, depending on your perspective – accomplish a Black takeover.
His logic was that white America had grown rich and fat and that only the Blacks were still angry and mobilized, the only ones, to his opinion, still entering the military and engaging in the use of firearms.
It would be, to Manson’s a thinking, a cinch of Blacks to take over America.
The problem would come, however, when we tried to run it.
That’s when we’d realize how fucking stupid we were.
And it would be then, remember that we still had and had always had an ally in old Charlie Manson, we’d come running back to him to give us leadership, in which case he’d get to pull his King Leopold, Cecil Rhodes or whatever the fuck white master of great Negritude that you’d like to imagine.
And the even crazier shit about Manson is he actually went to work on this lunatic scheme of his.
This nut sent the mutts into the night that ended up killing not only pregnant film actress Sharon Tate and her guests one evening, but he had them double back a night later and kill the LaBianca couple.
The police might have never caught Manson either had they not been able to cross reference those two murders to the shakedown murder of a guy named Gary Hinman that he and his “Family” had committed earlier.
In the wake of all this, after the arrests and convictions and sentencing and all the other inevitable, public sentiment was so shook that many radio stations took to banning the playing of The Beatles song “Helter Skelter” – thought to be the impetus for the crimes – for fear that more such shit could possibly pop off.
So now that the clock seems to be finally ticking toward the Final Bell for that sick fuck Charles Manson, and with niggas really on the verge of a world takeover through the combination of the end of white supremacy and low white birth rates, should we finally start to have faith in and believe each other, or instead should we mourn for the upcoming death of the one man with the promise to, ahem, bring us together?