Clear signs and acts of aggressions are usually present before a punch-out, a mugging, a stabbing or a shooting. The most effective form of aggression is simple body language accompanied by crowding, which is actually assault. Pre-contact aggression is a subject I have still not completely explored in over a dozen Harm City books. Part of the reason for this is that it is something I became very good at through practice, with zero instruction, which—unlike coaching you on boxing technique—has left my unprepared to pass on my knowledge. For one thing, the art of managing aggression through body language and eye-contact is very anti-social, and the act of instruction is the opposite. Permit me to begin with baby steps.
This section of The Boned Zone discusses interactions with those individuals who are most likely to attack you. These are not bad people, nor are they evil. They are simply oppressed.
The type of aggressor who is most likely to conduct himself verbally, and most likely to escalate to contact if engaged verbally, is in fact, your victim, and does he know it! He is most likely innocent, unarmed and less than 20 years of age. Sean, PR, Dominick, Maureen, Ben, Brooklyn Shane, Jeremy, Andrew, Mescaline, and the rest of you filthy rich sons of privilege, living on your yachts as you cruise the world, have systematically deprived this innocent, unarmed teenager of everything; rights, hopes, a six pack of Buttafinga bars at midnight—and on the litany of your sins marches off into the sad pages of history, written in the blood of your victim, his life reduced to a sorrowful song of tears pooling beneath your cruel shoes.
You, being a racist, might disagree with these assertions. However, it is important that you understand that your aggressor has been indoctrinated in these truths, and that he is not, in his mind, committing a morally indefensible act when he attacks you. He will attacker you—most likely with words at first—in order to redress past wrongs done his ancestors by your ancestors, enriching you to the point where you wallow in limitless splendor, at his expense.
I am not making a joke out of this.
Your aggressor believes he is doing good, striking back at an evil system through you, its face for the moment.
He is good.
Therefore what he wants is good.
If you do not want to give him what he wants—money, blood, submission, your place I line, sex, your bike—than you are, by definition, bad.
Any attempt to engage verbally in some witless white man’s quest to be seen as your victim’s moral equal, will only enrage him and push him toward contact.
Silence must be the cornerstone of your behavioral solution. Any verbalizations will:
1. Encourage him to continue
2. Encourage him to escalate
3. Encourage him to resume hostilities
4. Encourage other melanin rich victims of your oppression to rally around him and gang up on you
5. Encourage vengeance by him or others
Wolfing is an old term for a dog of a person—most likely raised by a bitch instead of by a man—who wants to project menace and falls back on a female or emasculated model of aggression and runs their mouth.
Wolfing can be effective. For instance, if you are black—and have sold out to Whitey and therefore deserve to be the subject of just redistribution of your ill-gotten gains—then you may be engaged in conversation to disarm you and set you up for an attack.
If you are white, and therefore regarded as easily frightened prey, who has grown up under the false promises of police protection and the invisible shield of White Privilege, then you will be yelled at or threatened.
If you are being yelled at, or threatened, or questioned, by a victim of your unforgivable oppression, than you may expect no quarter, if you show weakness.
Eye contact is useful for projecting your silent resolve. Unless you are a skilled actor, it will only work if you have the resolve to stand up to, and die fighting, your enemy.
At the point where you make eye contact with an aggressor, you must recognize him as an implacable enemy who cannot be reasoned with, and must be resisted at all costs.
There are many ways to make eye contact, which I have not tried to categorize. Since eye contact has not been taught to me I cannot very well teach it. All I can do is explain my personal methods and hope the rest of you nasty white people can make some use of my particular tools of repression. Eye contact, for me, hinges on two things, the situation, and my emotional state. I only pretend to be the Reptilian Lord of the Harm City Night. I am, in fact, a human being, which is in no way something I am proud of, as evidenced by my multiple claims of extraterrestrial origin.
Usually—I find myself slipping of late—when I first see an unknown man or youth outside of the workplace, I kill him in my mind. This is like opening a file on my laptop and then minimizing it.
Dead Eyes
Widening my eyes to increase my peripheral vision makes them water, which is counterproductive and could encourage aggression. Therefore, when I am being aggressed upon by a black man who I suspect is setting me up or instigating others, I relax my eyes and do not focus, keeping him in the center of my visual field as I move around him beyond reach.
Shifty Eyes
When I am being silently stalked, I avoid all contact and look at shadows, elbows, hips and feet in a scramble to keep up to date on where the attack is coming from. This includes a lot of limited head movement. The more dangerous the stalkers are the more likely they are to abort when they notice your awareness—but only if you pose a threat. If you are 90 pounds, shuffling around on a cane, you can be as alert as you want and still get selected. Being, or appearing to be, armed, paired with an obvious state of high alert, often discourages attackers.
Recently, I began darting my eyes around looking for secondary attackers when this asshole in a windbreaker approached me for a cigarette on the bus stop. I moved around him with my left hand extended, keeping him in the center of my visual field and looked for the guys I figured had to be coming for me. I was wrong. There were no other guys and this guy started to act like a pending murder victim and walked off briskly halfway through the word ciga—
Narrow Eyes
When I am directly threatened by an aggressor I go into combat mode as far as my vision, narrowing my eyes to focus and protect them and locking in on his chest. I do not lock eyes with them unless they have their hand on a weapon that has not been deployed, or if I am confident of breaking him with my mind. As long as I have been able to maintain narrow eye contact with an aggressor I suspected was armed, they have never drawn on me. I don’t know what this is. Below is a typical use of narrow eyes.
At 3:15 this morning I was standing on the front walk at work, the only person outside, drinking my ice water, when I looked to my right and saw a young black man walking up on me briskly on the sidewalk from the vacant storefronts in the angle of the strip mall. His hands were visible. I made eye contact with him, with dead eyes, which is kind of an ‘asking’ look. He immediately blinked and veered off out onto the lot, putting the fingers of his right hand in his back pocket and looking over his shoulder at me as he walked off into the night.
This kind of stuff happens to me very often, and I never know if I am scaring off some kid who was minding his own business or getting a stickup boy or knockout game player to change his mind about targeting me.
Stare Down
In my mind I think of this as swimming in their mind and eating their soul. If I now I have a mouther, and he has no weapon in hand, and he is not advancing, and his friends are not closing in, I do what most boxers do to other boxers before a fight, stare into their eyes with unflinching resolve so that they understand that I am not backing down, and that they will have to stop me. This is enough for most people to pack it in.
I have been told that I am very frightening when doing this, and have had men breakdown and cry after a few moments. Youths and women generally adopt a stunned look, shut up, and then slink away. I do not know what this looks like because I can’t do it in the mirror. I suppose if I ever decide to kill myself, I might find out what this looks like when I look in the mirror before taking the razors out of the cabinet.
I never go into a stare down unless I have determined that combat is imminent or if I have measured this person and found them to be wanting. I will stare down easy meat, but will only commit to a stare down with a dangerous enemy if I sense there is no alternative but combat. At this stage I am looping an initial attack in my mind, over and over again, which will be launched as soon as he enters my space or deploys his weapon.
Conclusion
Sean, PR, Inspector Ratchet, Daniel and the rest of you evil white people that have asked me about my seemingly magical ability to mesmerize the lesser apes of Habitat Baltimore, I hope that this nebulous attempt to explain myself will permit you to further oppress, exploit and undermine your victims. I suspect the key to my success is twofold, and somehow communicates the truth to my enemies.
They may be bigger, younger, and stronger, but when our eyes meet our relationship becomes a mind-to-mind affair. I know myself to be more intelligent and more wicked than they. When I look my inferior in the eye, knowing what he is, and what I am, he usefully develops a heightened appreciation for his wretched existence and leaves me alone.
Perhaps it is nothing but a projected self image. When I first moved to Baltimore I had renounced violence and was a skittish country boy in the city, harassed and threatened, seemingly at every turn.
Now, I am a man who has died in his own mind and believes only in violence. If this is showing through, than maybe my tactics are minor nuances, and the only thing saving me is a perception that I am abnormal, a kook with a diseased mind.
Curses! They now know of our daily routine of jet setting on a yacht with multiple babes and bottles of champagne. You were not supposed to let the white people secret out! We are just pretending to punch in and out for work and then get into our limos home to our mansions to count diamonds and gold bars..
It's Jedi mind control: "This is not the victim you are looking for."
P.S. Yes, James is right. White people DO live in a secret world of luxury. They possess some magic “ju-ju” that they refuse to share with black people. All black people know this to be true. Eddie Murphy exposed this fact many years ago on Saturday Night Live.
chextalks.blogspot.com/2008/04/eddie-murphy-amd-secret-world-of-white.html
White people are like leprechauns, if you capture one you can force him to show you where he hid his pot of gold. But watch out! They may be small and weak, but they’re tricky. They once ruled the whole country and held black people as slaves after all
Anyway, check out the linked video. Most of you young white guys probably never experienced what it was like to ride a city bus that had no black people on it.
I love the leprechaun allegory, Jeremy. You know, there is a series of hood rat movies about an evil urban leprechaun that is, well, I suppose the evil ghost of the only Irish American slave owner...