No funeral for me

In sadness, I watched the funeral of George Floyd. I am well aware that we all have to die someday, but I had this gut feeling that kept me from accepting his death. So many have failed George Floyd; from an almighty God who seems to always be too far away when negroes are slaughtered, to religion who fleeced him in life and death. I was very surprised that the cops, at his funeral, forgot to use their batons, pepper spray or shoot rubber bullets at those who attended.

Like so many funerals, there were plenty of publicity grabbing demagogues to eclipse the moment in their favor. Countless of narcissistic orators praising, each other, stealing the moment from the person whose life they are supposed to celebrate. Every once in a while, George Floyd’s name was mentioned during ad nauseum self-congratulatory praise. Even the company (church) was heavily promoted. There was more emphasis on the individual preachers, the church, and celebrities than George Floyd and God.

And I wanted to ask: What have you done to prevent George Floyd from being murdered? Nothing. Did you need another notch on your staff? Were you waiting for one more dead negro to complete your count? Just like politics, I was sickened by a bunch of losers, faking outrage.

The “service” was the same bullshit fed to the same people; just another day and a different body. And every single time, negroes accept the same excuses, the same bullshit, the same lies, the same false promises, only to convene a few days later for a similar event with a different body.

What is the purpose of a God who is omnipotent, omniscient, knows the past-present-and future, who failed one more time to lift a finger. It wouldn’t have taken much; a precision lightning strike would have saved George Floyd. I guess God is saving it to kill another black man. According to the bible, God sent angels to check on Sodom and Gomorrah. Were all angels busy during the 8 minutes and 46 seconds?

God cares about negroes, his children, yet fails miserably to protect them against a tribe he seems to favor. Spiritually, the black church is trying to whitewash the soul of the black community. Every single time a black man is murdered, the black church makes it its business to convince negroes that God loves them. Trust massa.

Where is the goodness of God if he sits on his throne (maybe out of toilet paper)?

Where is the omniscient fairy who is good all the time?

Where is the fairness of an omnipotent God who is just a spectator?

Where is the sense of justice of an almighty God who doesn’t even lift a finger?

Where is the sense of logic of a creator who advocates his supremacist views?

And I say to you, today, what I have been saying since I was 15 years old, don’t expect anything from a supremacist God who slaughtered 25 million innocent humans just in the Old Testament, because he wanted to show off in front of his “chosen” tribe. The biblical butcher enjoys a good murder, especially if a negro is the sacrificial lamb.

And if your skin is black like the Egyptians, please give up on the hallucinations and fantasy; you are definitely not a member of the chosen tribe. Exodus 12: 29 And it came to pass, that at midnight the LORD smote all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh that sat on his throne unto the firstborn of the captive that was in the dungeon; and all the firstborn of cattle.

Yes, God killed all the black babies. So proud, he detailed it in his book. And if your dream is to go to heaven and wear white robes that symbolize purity, you are part of the reason George Floyd died.

These past weeks provided me with one more confirmation of the decision I made long ago NOT TO HAVE A FUNERAL.

When such time comes, I elect to go on the grill; cremation, as cheaply as possible and as quickly as it can be done. Call me what you might, but I’m not having a funeral. I refuse to have my body displayed as a prop for the financial or otherwise benefit of any sect, cult or religion. At no time and under no circumstance, should my last wish be disrespected.
I won’t be laid out in some expensive box looking like a stuffed mackerel, surrounded by floral arrangements, for people to stand over my carcass and cry or talk about how good I look dead. The last picture, I still remember of my grandpa in his coffin, has forever been etched in my mind of a proud man with all the make-up, looking like a hooker.
I won’t be buried in some graveyard with a granite or marble marker, inscribed with some ridiculous verse on it, for others to come visit periodically as though I will know it either. I think funerals are an expensive, unnecessary send-off and emotional drain on the living, at a time when it’s better to remember the deceased as s/he was, move on and enjoy life and the living.

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