This puts me in mind of Steel Magnolias, where the mother describes looking around and seeing all the men — held out as strong, yet unable to take watching Shelby’s slow death — gone.

That’s our story. Men are strong in very different ways, but in the durable work of Black hate, it’s largely Black women. Out there consuming hate so our people can be people.

That which does not kill you and all that is for the fucking birds.