by pen name T. C. Writer, as sold on Amazon.com

I know…I know.

Why respond to such a racist diatribe by someone who claims that the reader will never be able to tell if they are male or female, or Black or white, or whatever else, by the way this book is written?

Why give them more publicity and attention, which they obviously need desperately?

But when you frame this type of bitchy piehole-spewing “I’m-in-charge-of-you-Black-women-so-you-better-pay-attention-to-me-or-else” spirit in which it was given and when you begin to recognize that this kind of surface mentality actually does cause the root of harassment, attack, assault, and sometimes even the deaths of young Black women like #SandraBland and many others like her, and so many others not as conscious as she was, it needs to be addressed forthright and ignoring it simply won’t make it go away.

It is this kind of monkeypoo-flinging “hair of the dog that bit her” venom-spewing that is at the core of Black women’s behaviors in America. The only protective device they have is their voices – be it cussing, speaking out VERY LOUDLY, or singing the pain away … and most of that LONE SOLITARY SINGLE VOICE is in a solidly JUSTIFIABLE rage by the time anyone starts to pay attention to what she has to say.

Yet and still, for all we know, T.C. Writer is a collaborative effort of variegated put-upon persons of any low common denominator in society who decided it was “their time” to finally spew all of the pre-rehearsed snake venom that they could at “Black women”, regardless of who they are, where they come from, or what they’ve accomplished in their lifetimes; or the fact that the majority of Black women are pretty docile until someone rubs them the wrong way — as in “don’t take my kindness for weakness.”

The entity/ies who wrote it is likely mad at some “Black bitch” who knocked his, her or their ice cream cone out of their hand when they were age two or three or five, and they never got over it. Now the entire world of “Black women” [in my “Dr. Evil” voice] is going to have to “pay for that.”

There’s no telling who would write a book like this, and then have the audacity to hide under a fake name like “T.C. Writer.” But it is obviously someone with some pretty deep mental health issues that revolve around transference. [Go Google the psychological implications of ‘transference’ if you don’t know what that means.)

Note carefully, this venomous shell-casing could have easily been written by another Black female — because it seems to know all of the decrepit television shows and all of the stars of those shows, and it also seems to have direct contact with “everyone” in the world, so Writer says, who hates all Black women, regardless.

Never mind that this racist invective told us more about the mental health of the person or persons who wrote it than it did about “Black women.”

There is a confession to be made here … there are some Black women who take this fairy-spinning television drama that Writer speaks of to heart in the real world and they do seem to want to come out here acting as if they can portray that white folks’ trash and act it out in real life; and granted, this “Writer” has to be given credit for nailing THOSE Black bitches down to a “T” and a cross, and then some.

Otherwise, this is a collaboration of the most twisted, depraved, and mentally disturbed among us to bring a viewpoint into the public arena that lumps all Black women together and then goes into a diatribe about “why Black women are so hated” allegedy by “everyone.” rrrigiihhhttt … [ok…Maybe by one of your ho-mongering sex-starved depraved white baby daddies who knocked up his Black maid and childcare worker during “work” hours – TWICE; but then it is pretty obvious that he wasn’t hating on her too bad at the time he did it, BOTH times and then some, apparently.]

This book runs amok, as you may have guessed without reading it, like the viewings of a person or persons who watch too much TV and spend more time in an imaginary world of “Hollyweird” and the pimps and hustlers of white people’s imagination than it does a person who knows any real Black women outside of the ones who are acting out these juvenile fantasies AS IF they ARE real. #thankyoushondarhimes

Then you get to somewhere around the middle of the first act of this toxic book and find out that your hunch is right. And the spewer has the unmitigated gall to tell Black women to “get it together” so they can exist in a more peaceful world, as if THAT’S going to make a hillabeans difference. [Hint: It hardly ever does, even with us perfected peace-loving peacemaking Black female kind who live in the real world instead of the ‘reality’ one, and who love much harder than we hate.]

It’s just a shame that this person or this “entity” of caricatures of the human race of Black women will never find out, in the short time they have left on this Earth, just how really wonderful most Black women are … simply because they are obsessed by the ones they believe in the most. They will be buried six feet under, smothered in death under the dirt of their own hatred, and “Black bitches” will still be here. THEY aren’t going anywhere, but YOU are.

Generalizations aside, there are some “bad Black bitches” and their EQUALLY filthy-attituded foul friends of the other persuasion (‘Caucasian’) who need to listen up.

This book absolutely applies to you and your kind.

Happy Halloween.