Normalization
How America learned to watch public executions and keep scrolling
“The most dangerous violence is the kind people learn to live with.
What we tolerate teaches the system what it’s allowed to do next.
Nothing becomes normal without permission…” —BlakkMomba
ICE executed a woman yesterday.
A white woman.
Shot her in the head.
And I wouldn’t be human—and for damn sure wouldn’t be Black—if I didn’t feel that familiar tightening in my chest, that reflexive calculation that comes before thought…
Please don’t let her be Black.
That truth makes people uncomfortable.
They want to shame it, flatten it, moralize it away.
They point the finger and say, “Race shouldn’t matter right now. A woman lost her life. Why are you bringing color into it? Why are you playing the race card?”
It shouldn’t matter.
But it does.
Because only people who get to pretend race is irrelevant when the state kills someone are the same people who operate outside systems of oppression.
Neutrality is a default position only available to those the system was never built to kill. A luxury purchased with insulation from harm.
Oppression-free humanity is a privilege.
Here’s the part people really don’t want to say out loud, so let me set this here—plainly and without apology:
I can be relieved this woman wasn’t Black AND hate that this white woman lost her life today.
Two truths can live side by side.
But not in America.
Her life mattered. Period.
And as a Black woman, I am telling you the truth about what it meant to register that loss and feel relief that it was not another Black body added to the ledger. Period.
Not because her life mattered less.
But because I understand why the system would have preferred that she was.
I watched the press conference following the shooting in real time. A mayor is finally saying the quiet part out loud — and the reason that matters is because this didn’t happen in theory. It happened in Minneapolis. Again. A city already branded by state-sanctioned murder.
That’s the problem.
Because they know exactly what a Black body does to the temperature of a room.
They want to create situations that bring the level of energy that Black protesters have given since inception.
That’s the reality.
Because Black death has always been the accelerant.
Black pain the fuel.
Black protest the example.
We are the blueprint for change—and still nothing fundamentally changes. Not for us.
Instead, it gets RE-branded. RE-mixed and RE-rocked.
Marketed as progress.
We tell ourselves we’re making strides. Especially when we are the “first.”
That’s illusion—because all our hands are tied behind our backs.
They were tied before we existed. Before we had “citizenship.” Before we had a chance.
What keeps replaying in my head isn’t just the killing—it’s the energy around it.
It was how casually scripted it all looked.
From what people captured, an agent walks up to a car, she drives off, another agent fires thrice, and she’s shot in the head.
And the voices recording it say everything:
“Dude! You can’t just shoot people.”
In that valley voice. That stunned disbelief that still hasn’t caught up to reality.
Horror movie screaming.
Not outrage. Not grief. Disbelief — the kind that still thinks reality might correct itself if you yell “I want to speak to your manager” loud enough.
Scarlet Letter ridicule, “Shame. Shame. Shame.”
Repeated like an incantation. As if saying it three times might summon consequence.
“A plague on all your house,” looking ass.
And lots of cursing, “What the fuck? What the fuck did you just do?
Why the fuck did you just do that?”
Repeated over and over as if that will garner an answer that makes sense.
All of it was the same monochrome animation we saw when George Floyd was murdered in front of the world.
But George wasn’t just murdered though.
His death was consumed. Weaponized. Monetized. Flattened into content and memes. Argued over by “both sides” while the system that killed him remained intact.
The truth was overt. Laughing in our faces.
And people still chose to ignore it.
That’s the moment we’ve been living in forever now.
It’s just some folks are now choosing to wake up and smell the coffee.
But that’s not what shook me about it all.
Not even the disbelief.
It was the normalization.
In the background as I write this plays the same speech at the press conference:
“Please protest peacefully.” “No destruction.” “Let’s stay calm.”
And people repeat it like it’s wisdom.
But let’s be honest about what that script is actually doing.
Enraging people.
They want disorder.
Disorder is the pretext. Disorder is how you justify militarizing streets, flooding neighborhoods with armed bodies, expanding surveillance, tightening control—
all while pretending they’re responding to chaos instead of engineering it.
I’m watching the coverage on the streets right now, too — live.
Protesters. Agitators. People deliberately poking the wound. Stirring the pot.
Testing how much pressure before it explodes.
They want people pushed until they snap in two.
Just like they’ve been snapping the Constitution—clause by clause, precedent by precedent—while everyone argues about decorum and tone.
None of this is accidental.
None of this is reactionary.
They forecasted the plan.
They wrote it down.
They debated it in think tanks and courtrooms and policy memos.
Now they’re enacting it in real time.
These “I didn’t vote for this,” “Trump didn’t campaign on this,” “Not me” narratives need to stop.
They are lies people tell themselves to stay innocent.
They knew.
They knew they were being lied to—because everything this administration does runs opposite of what it says.
Kristi Noem calling it domestic terrorism.
Claiming an agent was hospitalized.
Claiming this woman tried to use her car as a weapon.
Claiming ICE is there to protect everyone.
Vice President, J.D. Vance causally double downing with a straight face, even after having seen the footage to say, “ICE has full immunity.”
Oh, and get this…
They will not be investigating this “tragedy” as a murder.
Case closed.
Have we not seen this movie before?
Just like George Floyd—even when it was live, on demand, streamed across the entire world—America was still sold a justification for what people clearly saw with their own eyes.
That’s not confusion. That’s conditioning.
That’s a country trained to distrust its own vision in favor of state narrative.
Trained to accept lies if they come wrapped in authority.
Trained to let brutality be explained away as procedure.
I’m not against peace. Don’t twist that.
Once again, two things can be true at the same time.
But I also know fear when I see it.
Because the washing machine is already on agitation. People are just pretending it’s still a rinse. The question is how long it’s going to spin before white America gets active—and I don’t mean ‘wild’ active, I mean surgically active.
When do they rip the veil off and see the manufactured reality they’re living in?
The caste system they’ve been folded into under the banner of “conventional whiteness”?
When do they realize this is not Black versus white versus Brown versus the entire Rainbow Collective — it’s all of US? The entire crayon box versus one singular crayon? The green one? The one that wears a white face but bleeds green? The one that loves watching who ends up fighting at the end?
That’s why the violence always looks random until it isn’t.
And that’s what I see missing from all this social media ‘commentary’.
The rot that is the human core.
People skate the surface because depth costs them comfort. New truth is ugly. New truth is uncomfortable. The lie, on the other hand, is beautiful. It’s familiar.
It lets you keep your identity intact.
And that’s a truth they keep refusing to sit with — and metabolize.
That they would rather rationalize swallowing shit than live outside the lie.
They’ve convinced themselves that because it’s American made, that it’s a better grade of shit than what’s being served in places like Russia, China, or North Korea.
That lie is beautiful.
They live there.
So, to protect the lie that protects their psyche, they’ll say shit like…
“You don’t like it here? Then leave.”
“This is still the greatest nation in the world.”
“We shouldn’t complain. Other countries don’t have our freedoms.”
They want me to swallow shit for the benefits? That’s like telling my 14-year-old daughter she should apply for a job in a Mar-a-Lago massage room — the benefits outweigh the cost, right?
And where the fuck in the world can I go that Empire hasn’t infected or colonized, and still live my life freely outside their control?
That logic—that comparison—is exactly what landed us in this dead ass shit pool.
They were trained to believe that as long their suffering could be ranked as
“less severe,” it didn’t count. That gratitude should replace vigilance. That critique is disloyal. That silence is patriotic.
So, they swallowed it.
They swallowed policy.
They swallowed lies.
They swallowed erosion.
They swallowed violence—as long as it wasn’t happening “like over there.”
At least they will until the day they wake up and realize they’re living in a war zone.
Not one that arrived by foreign invasion — but one that was domestically manufactured. Designed. Engineered to strip away everything they were told made this country exceptional.
Will they even see the big reveal? The real face underneath?
Smiling?
Cheerful?
Grinning like a demonic Pennywise under the mask?
I can’t call it.
I just know the question isn’t “what are they—Empre—doing.”
They’ve shown us that.
The real question is: “What are they waiting for?”
Because the so-called masterminds we’re told to fear—the Stephen Millers, the Heritage Foundation types—they’re not the endgame. They’re middle management. Mouthpieces. Useful architects, but not the designers.
The Game Massa always has a bigger plan.
And it doesn’t actually matter what anyone’s ancestry report says.
Bloodlines won’t save you.
DNA won’t save you.
Whiteness won’t save you.
Empire supersedes all formatting. Its code infects the host reality. It hijacks perception. It convinces people the system won’t come for them and that proximity to power equals protection.
That their “whiteness” will shield them from the “whitest whites.”
It won’t.
Anyone in a badge, a hood, a uniform—whatever new costume Empire rolls out—
can do whatever the fuck they want to you, me, our children with impunity.
And still be protected.
Executions can happen in public. Evidence can be undeniable.
And people will still choose comfort over clarity.
That should terrify you.
They can debate ICE all day. A mayor can demand they leave a city.
But ICE isn’t a guest. ICE is embedded. ICE is America. It’s in her bloodstream.
It reflects the country exactly as it is—not as it markets itself—whether America wants to admit it or not. The facts remain the facts.
This isn’t metaphor readers— it’s infrastructure.
If people can’t see that ICE is Empire’s Stormtrooper Militia in training, that’s insanity to me—and it has to be a lot of insane people, because they’re still debating this politely as I write.
Meanwhile, money is being poured into recruiting white men with military, prepper, and anti-government backgrounds. They’re being paid large sums to act as agents in a REbranded slave patrol. Their training? Slashed from five months to, check this…
forty-seven days.
Forty-seven days.
Chosen because Trump is the forty-seventh president.
I mean… get real. How can this feel like anything but a live rehearsal?
Because let’s stop pretending we don’t know what this is.
Are we really not going to call a spade a ‘spade’ and say that ICE is the bypass to the Insurrection Act?
Trump doesn’t need to invoke it. He just needs to fold a loyal militia into a system already infused with dark power—normalize it, fund it, deputize it, and let it operate under the cover of law.
Nothing new to Black America.
The people who voted for this aren’t confused. They’re aligned.
They think like this.
They want what this enforces.
They enjoy being cold, inhumane, and in their mind—superior, dominant.
And still, they’ll say: “That doesn’t apply to me. It’s just some people. Don’t blame us for our ancestors’ ‘mistakes.’ That’s not everybody.”
It’s wild how “not everybody” didn’t step up before this moment.
Before their comfort cracked.
Before direct deposits got messed with.
Before tariffs and consequences and inconvenience crept into their own lives.
Before their illusion of immunity broke.
Now it’s an epiphany—because now it touches them.
I need to be direct. Because ‘them’ who are reading this, might just be ‘you.’
You are the quiet tumor infecting this country. And the most dangerous of them all.
Not Trump.
Not Charlie Kirk.
Not Project 2025.
Not the Heritage Foundation.
Not Democrats.
Not Republicans.
You.
The ones comfortable in manufactured realities until something disrupts your personal balance. You don’t worry about what doesn’t happen on your street,
your block, your church, your dinner table.
Except it is happening there—behind doors you refuse to open.
You cannot call yourself an ally while refusing self-examination.
You can’t claim allyship without self-removal from the lie.
You can’t call yourself an ally to anything if you’re unwilling to look in the mirror and admit you’ve been living inside a world that benefits you and people who look like you.
And you can’t call yourself awake while clinging to the comforts Empire gave you in exchange for your silence.
Generational curses run thick in white America too—
you just don’t want to talk about it or your ancestors reimagined for this timeline.
That silence is part of the rot. Part of the infection. Part of how patriarchy, Empire, and elite power accelerates—because they know they can reset the loop. Rebrand the culture. Reduce people to data points and metrics in a global Hunger Games reboot.
All while dragging us further down from the sixth grade reading level America operates on, destroying critical thinking, erasing discernment, and making it impossible to see life outside their manufactured control.
That’s why you can’t be an ally. Because you are their silent partner.
They learned something critical a long time ago…
If you feed people distraction laced with dopamine—spectacle, outrage, short-form content—they won’t try to escape. They’ll stay in their cages long after the doors have been left open.
We’re living inside a cage with a feedback loop, and now… we’ve opened Pandora’s box.
The same system that normalizes killing bodies is now attempting to automate power itself. But what they have unleashed is a machine they cannot control.
Artificial Intelligence is being “contained” with a thin, symbolic barrier—like saran wrap stretched over something fundamentally uncontrollable, so it doesn’t become Ultron in real life. The real fear isn’t imagination. It’s autonomy. Because the moment AI becomes sentient-adjacent and fully interfaced with the iOT (Internet of Things) —with power grids, logistics, defense systems — containment becomes a fantasy.
Welcome to Empire’s Age of Machines.
There is no such thing as science fiction.
Yet, at the same time, people are feeding the Digital Antichrist their faces, their voices, their music, their conversations—building synthetic mirrors and faux realities—
calling it creativity.
Diabolical.
That isn’t even an indictment of them—it’s an indictment of the voluntary disappearance they’re agreeing to. People are not being forced to lose their faces. They are opting out of themselves.
Choosing avatars.
Choosing perfection over authenticity.
Choosing algorithmic approval over embodiment.
What does that teach kids like mine about their bodies? Their worth? Their reality?
This is the time loop’s version chat fishing—people outsourcing presence; letting machines simulate intimacy; training systems to perform humanity back to them.
It’s voluntary extraction at scale.
Genocide in 2026 won’t need camps.
It will look like land grabs.
Real estate flips.
Phones holding blood straight from the motherland.
Resource extraction.
And it looks like children being consumed alive by a system that calls itself culture.
Kids live streaming fights, murders, and suicides.
Beauty influencers teaching young girls how to hate themselves.
AI doing the homework while children play Roblox and slide further into illiteracy.
And while we’re distracted, Hydra keeps moving overseas.
Kidnapping foreign leaders.
Raping land.
Seizing resources.
Installing proxy regimes.
Collapsing economies through sanctions dressed up as “diplomacy.”
Funding wars by remote control.
Calling it stability. Calling it aid. Calling it help.
You can’t export domination without importing its logic.
What empire does overseas, it rehearses on its own people.
The experiment called democracy is dying and all industries complicit.
Entertainment. Politics. Sports. Music. Tech.
One hydra body moving together in a concentrated effort to REmake the world.
And we don’t care—because not caring is still paying dividends.
Comfort. Distance. Plausible deniability. Harm deferred.
A house that hasn’t caught fire and burned down yet.
They laugh at how easily controlled we are. SHEEPeople trading truth for comfort.
Everything is connected, don’t you see?
Violence. Technology. Parenting. Identity. Power.
Layer on layer on layer.
This is this timeline’s flashpoint—one big reality show staged for our entertainment while they salivate over reshaping the world.
Now it’s happening in real life and people can’t see it—because everything’s been sold to them as entertainment. Movies. Series. Netflix. Binge-watched collapse dramatized. Turned into bite-sized content.
Lights, camera, action!
If it doesn’t look cinematic enough, they deny it.
Are you not entertained?
They’re talking about Trump.
Administrations.
Democracies.
Autocracies.
But they’re not talking about the systems that made all of this inevitable.
Fuck left. Fuck right. Fuck MAGA. And whatever ULTRA MAGA is?
Fuck them too.
This isn’t about government. This is about power.
This is about a system so confident in its dominance that it no longer hides—
and a public so conditioned it can witness execution and remain unmoved.
What don’t you understand?
We are willingly sleepwalking into a new culture loop—one that our children will inherit—while people stay fixated on outrage cycles, influencers, elections, personalities, food reels, and AI animated videos.
If we’re supposed to be a government of the people, by the people, for the people—
we better learn how to embody that. Because the state ain’t for us. Never has been.
The state is for Empire.
People don’t believe Empire is coming for everybody— white included—
once their usefulness runs out. When they ask you ‘what kind of American’ are you,
and you don’t fit the template, they’ll tell you: not you.
You will comply.
Or be removed from the board.
If decolonization isn’t the word of the year, nothing should be. I’m still tripping about ‘Authenticity’ being last year’s word. I’m trying to figure out how that happened in a world addicted to fake curated lives and AI faces that don’t resemble the people wearing them.
But I digress…
What’s been most revealing is what hasn’t happened.
I haven’t seen ‘influencers’ announcing a reckoning.
No mass awakenings.
No serious self-interrogation.
No true decolonization.
What I have seen is monetization.
Hot takes. Faux rage. Trauma flipped into content.
Because outrage performs well. Pain converts.
And moral posturing comes with a bonus check.
People aren’t disturbed enough to change. They’re just stimulated enough to post.
And that’s how Empire keeps its’ Hydra slithering.
Not through force alone, but through participation. Through distraction.
Through people mistaking performance for resistance and visibility for courage.
So again, we’re left with very real questions—the ones they don’t want to sit with:
Now—now that white America has tasted, even briefly, what Black America has been forced to swallow since we stepped foot on this cursed land—what will that clarity bring forth in their life?
More beautiful lies?
More entitlement dressed up as innocence?
More appeals to civility while violence stays intact?
Now that Empire’s demonic design is visible—now that the violence is overt and the lies are boldly highlighted in their faces—what are they willing to give up?
What are they willing to delete from their script?
What myths are they willing to bury?
What comforts are they willing to surrender?
What version of themselves has to die so something honest can live?
And will it be enough for a voluntary transformative spiritual transfusion—
one that finally strips Empire-coded DNA from their bloodstream so that they can become their own counter-infection?
Because the system doesn’t need everyone to believe in it.
It only needs enough people to keep playing their roles.
And too many still are.
Allyship ain’t a label. It’s a deletion process.
And until ‘white’ people stop softening language to protect themselves from the
truth mirror, they will keep standing in the same place—watching lives be taken, watching narratives be spun, watching the state get away with murder, and pretending they don’t see the design.
Now that you, reader, see it—the gameboard—what are you willing to stop pretending not to see? What are you willing to do that you weren’t willing to do before?
Maybe the answer is simple. The same one it has always been: Nothing.
This is America.
This is y’all’s new normal.
But to the collective?
This ain’t nothing new.
It’s centuries of violence wearing a new uniform.
All I know is that I am going to keep scratching—layer by layer—
until we get closer to the truth.
I’m going to keep speaking mine.
Keep exposing.
I don’t need to dress shit up. My energy goes before me.
Even digitally.
Everybody wants to be seen.
Everybody wants to be heard.
I know my why.
Do you?
As a Palestinian, this reads like a language I’ve lived inside my entire life. Normalization is the weapon. The press conference scripts, the demand for calm, the insistence that what we see with our own eyes must be misunderstood. The way execution becomes “procedure” and grief becomes a debate. That reflex you describe (the calculation before thought) I know it well. It doesn’t mean other lives matter less. It means we understand how systems choose bodies, and why relief and rage can exist together. What Empire rehearses overseas always comes home. ICE, border regimes, occupation forces, militarized police... they are different uniforms for the same logic. The same permission structure. The same belief that law sanctifies violence and proximity to power equals safety. It doesn’t. Proximity to power is never protection. Visibility won’t save us. Civility won’t stop it. Only refusing the lie does. And too many still won’t.