When we were younger, we'd play games.
Remember Duck Duck Goose?
We would a**emble in circular file,
and we'd all sit Indian style
And wait to see who the picker would choose.
And that moment of truth would soon arrive:
“Will I be the duck, or will I be the goose?”
And we'd breathe a sigh of relief
When we got pa**ed by
Cuz WE'D BE DAMNED if we had to chase some little dude through gra** and dandelion flowers,
Just to reclaim the spot that was already ours.
I say, when we were younger, we'd play games.
Between 1880 and 1924, some 25 million European immigrants braved the course across the Atlantic and disembarked from their ships.
They sought life for their kids,
Opportunity, fortune and all the rights of full American citizenship, but were met with resistance.
See, they faced unrelenting poverty
And the only “Whites” invited to the Manifest Destiny, “Civilize the Uncivilized” polity were the English-Speaking, British descendants of Anglo Saxon.
The Irish were called the White Negro,
the Jews were called this country's mongrel
And the Africans here had just gotten 3/5 over the hump of being equated to a fraction.
You know, for census and taxation purposes.
But over the years, that collective struggle blurred as the Irish, the Scot, and Jew blended with the White
And they progressed.
And though the 14th Amendment legalized the extra two-fifths of our citizenship,
we remained as the 2nd cla** type nonetheless.
And we heaved a cry of disbelief when we got pa**ed by.
Because we'd be damned
if we had to chase for what was our due,
and run around for our rights and our powers,
just to reclaim the spot that was already ours
I say when we were younger, we played games.
Duck, Duck, Duck, Goose.
Remember that? The picker would get slick.
He knew that if he would do that and be quick,
he could take what was yours by starting crucial steps ahead.
And you, you got no love for losing your place.
Get yourself up. Free yourself from your legs and your feet tangled beneath your waist.
Put on your game face, and begin for what was yours that race that you've already started to lose.
But it's a good thing that we don't play that kind of game anymore.
That was for back when we were younger, back when we used to play games.
Between 1881 and 1914, the Scramble for Africa saw the
invasion, occupation, annexation and colonization of the African Continent by European Powers.
And ever since then, the continent alone has produced over 60 percent of all the gold that mankind has ever mined,
75 percent of cumulative worth of diamonds that have ever been valued since the beginning of time,
And ten percent of the worlds exports of oil
Yet it remains the world's poorest and most underdeveloped continent.
Does that make sense to you?
But Africa… You get no love for losing your place.
GET YOURSELF UP. Free yourself from your legs and your feet SHACKLED beneath your waist,
Put on your game face
And begin for what was yours that race that you've already been made predestined to lose.
But it's a good thing that we don't play that kind of game anymore. That was for back when we were younger
Back when we used to play games.
And that game would turn into a gang.
Every kid in the circle would see who was picked on the most
And they would keep picking on him because his fatigue would render him slow,
But they would maintain the show that this was still a game of
chance and simple, indiscriminate whim.
But in reality,
what would begin as a circle of friends within the throes of a …. WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER system
Would devolve into a state of silent warfare where
The victimized would, upon victory, join forces to victimize another victim.
But it's a good thing that we don't play that kind of game anymore. That was for back when we were younger. Back when we used to play games.
For 6 days, from August 23 to August 28, 1973,
There was a bank robbery, in Sweden.
On day 1, several bank employees were taken hostage
By day 5, those same hostages had become emotionally attached to their hostage takers, and they refused outside help.
This new phenomenon of sympathizing with the ones who once controlled and detained you came to be known as Stockholm Syndrome.
And there's one for the psych major's bookshelf;
At least there's a name for it now.
It's just a simple case of “captive” turned “captor.”
Eighteenth century white European-American indentured servant turned nineteenth century African-holding slave master.
It's a syndrome.
But it's a good thing that it's been cured.
We don't play that kind of game anymore.
There is no more of the terrorized becoming the terror they once abhorred.
We've grown from that.
After all, a friend of a friend is indeed another friend.
Your friend is yours and therefore is mine.
No more pick pick picking on pals of mine.
Because if that pal is mine, then therefore that Pal is thine
And that is real.
I mean: that Palestine and that Israel…
We are angels within heaven, surely you remember how much your halo cost?
And how it felt?
Our bonds should never tear us apart, I -
I mean our bonds should never tear us apart, I'd wish for something better.
Because we wouldn't want to play,
We couldn't want to play,
We shouldn't want to play this game anymore.
It s**s.
Because someone always ends up getting played.
And to top it all off,
It makes your booty itch.
It's a good thing that we know better, because if we didn't, then we'd be Ignorant.
And to remain Ignorant, is to remain a child.
DUCK
When we were younger,
We thought that only children played games.
DUCK
Because all they'd do was … run around in circles, but stay in the same place all day.
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