Tales from the Hood 2

Subtitles by explosiveskull

- Mr. Simms? - Yes.

Mr. Beach is this way.

And I think on the next model,

the guns should be even bigger.

Yeah. Again, sir, these are not your standard guns.

- These are lasers. - I like bigger.

People like bigger.

Yes, but what-what I'm trying to explain to you...

Bigger!

Mr. Beach?

I'm busy.

I'm busy, Kelly, explaining to Grant the importance of big.

You know, on second thought, why don't you explain it?

I mean as a woman, you certainly have a firm grasp

on why big is preferred.

Sir, Mr. Diomedes Simms is here.

He... You're not what I was expecting.

I assure you, sir, no one tells stories as well as I.

Oh, yes. Yes, yes.

Your kind are particularly accomplished liars, aren't they?

Oh?

You know about my kind?

Oh, Mr. Simms, my prisons are filled with your kind.

Surely not because of any issues

with an unjust application of "just-us."

Look, I'm the largest builder and owner

of private prisons in this country,

and I can tell you your brothers and sisters

make up an enormous part of my profits.

- Hmm. - Hmm.

Kelly, how long until that press conference?

Uh, just a couple of hours, sir.

Shit.

Shit.

Excuse me?

Nothing.

You've got ten minutes to impress me.

Grant, explain to Simms why he's here.

Yes. Uh, right away.

Uh, sir, we are in the last stage before full production

of what I can only refer to as...

a sentient robot.

The Robo-Patriot, the future of American Security.

A robot police force?

That I own and control.

- You ever hear of AI? - Mm.

That's Artificial Intelligence.

Oh, I see artificial intelligence all the time.

Mm.

- Well, I call it... - I call it. I, Grant.

I call it.

- Mr. Beach calls it... - Yeah.

RI, Real Intelligence.

You see, because it can learn from first-hand experience,

but like a person, it can also learn from second-hand experience,

so stories, fables, tales.

- That's where you come in. - Hmm.

That's right.

You're here to tell it tales

so that it has an even broader base

from which to assess who is worthy of detention, jail, even-even execution.

Execution?

Well, that sounds so final

and not nearly as lucrative as indefinite incarceration.

Some things I do are just because it's the right thing.

Indeed.

Indeed.

But let's hear one of those stories

that I'm supposed to be willing to write you a check for.

Great. Uh, we're already linked into the robot and recording, sir.

Let's see. Something to make your creation choose

the correct individual for incarceration.

- Yes. - Well, there are so many possibilities.

Give me a theme.

Well, let's pull one from the headlines.

Now, since I already have so many black lives

filling the beds of my facilities,

how about Black Lives Matter?

Of course. Of course.

Now this is the story of criminal behavior,

and how one particular black life mattered.

I call it... "Good Golly."

What? What is he talking about?

Oh, my gosh.

Where are we goin'?

This is it! Zoe!

Zoe, look! This is it!

Your stupid brother is still hiking.

It's like we're not on the same vacation.

Oh, come on. We will catch up with him later.

Let's go.

Can you believe I found it? Ready?

I don't like the looks of this place.

Oh, it'll be fun! Come on.

Huh.

"No bad idea ever dies.

It only lies dormant until the pungent rains of the demon spring."

Wait!

"God bless this hell?"

Jesus, do we really have to do this?

It's cool! God blessed it.

Okay, this is crazy.

Not as crazy as that!

Zoe, look!

No, that is insane.

Huh.

"Coon Chicken Inn."

Okay, so this is the door that people came in through

when they wanted some chicken.

The Colonel's chicken made you wanna lick your fingers,

but that guy was licking you.

Mmm? Mmm?

And this? This is like, what?

You find that amusing?

Uh, well, yeah, actually.

I mean, who looks like that?

Who indeed.

Slave masters used to brand their property with a hot iron,

but as we became free men and women,

America needed a new way to mark its property,

a new way to control the Negro, keep him in his place.

So instead of hot coals and metal,

they used pen, paint, and ink.

No branding iron necessary.

Come this way.

Lazy, shiftless,

gluttonous, lying,

over-sexed, ugly,

violent, stupid.

And this way, the American nigger/Negro

became the first true corporate brand.

Yeah, this country used to be just really messed up.

No doubt.

Better now, is it?

Well, I mean, we're friends, so...

Since grade school, so...

Yeah!

Tsss!

Yeah.

- Mmm. - We should go.

- Uh, do you have any gollys? - Gollys?

Yeah, like...

this?

Hey!

Careful!

I was just leaning against a chair.

Yeah, Zoe. Careful.

That chair's made from the sacred wood of a slave ship.

The grain is a product of the bloodshed

by men and women who were beaten and died

chained within its bowels as it traversed the Middle Passage.

Mm.

That was like the black holocaust.

And, duh!

The entire American slave experience was a holocaust,

which, I might add, continues today.

Its dark repercussions keep bearing fruit.

Can we please go?

About the gollys,

the golliwogs, um, I heard you had golliwogs for sale?

This is a museum. Nothing is for sale!

Oh, but...

Oh, he looks just like my first.

Hi, Golly.

My little Golly Gee.

How about 800?

Others have offered thousands, and I tell them all the same...

No. This doll, in particular, has been through too much.

It's carried over 100 years of racism in its small, delicate frame,

a racism created in America

that's traveled to England, Australia and beyond.

Okay, well, my great gran had a collection, and she started me collecting,

so, honestly, I don't really see it as racist.

Just a warm, comforting part of my childhood.

Mammy slaves also gave white children comfort in their childhoods,

cradling them, feeding them from their swollen, bruised tits

as their own babies were sold, raped, or otherwise neglected.

As comforting as they were,

I don't think you should have a mammy to play with either.

For God sakes, it's a doll.

It's a tool, an instrument of manipulation

that kills the spirit of who we really are

by presenting the lie others wish to see.

Is being your comfort any better than being your slave?

Or are they the same?

Okay, seriously! This is just ridiculous.

Black rappers call themselves nigger all the time,

and I can't even have a cute, little black doll?

Your friend's whiteness is showing.

W-Well, she's kind of right, isn't she?

No. That doll is the reason many black men and women still call themselves niggers.

They, too, have accepted the branding.

Marshall McLuhan was right.

"The medium is the message," and the message has taken hold.

This poor, misshapen creature

was given life by a white English woman

and nurtured on the tit of racism,

a foul aberration that refuses to die,

as new generations resuscitate its tortured soul.