This is my slave. Her name is Amber, and, in my estimation, she's fairly exceptional as far as slave's go. She can read and write for one thing. I got Amber from a private breeder who specializes in academic slaves. A far cry from your average field or domestic slave, Amber was bred for intelligence and educated so that she could serve as a tutor for the children of a wealthy master, or as an assistant to an academic type such as myself. She's also quite a looker too (the expensive ones usually are.)
I decided to begin this forward by talking about Amber for a few reasons. For one thing, Amber has been an invaluable resources in putting all of this together. Every step of the way, Amber's fingerprints are all over everything. In the course of this project, Amber has aided me by proofreading and fact checking my work, taking dictation, and even doing independent research on her own, sorting through tons and tons of primary sources in search of the cold hard information I needed to put together all of the future chapters and segments that lie ahead.
It would not be too much of a stretch to say that Amber, more than anyone else, has been a partner in my labors as Notes from a Dark Future came to be. Working side by side with her every step of the way, I've grown to depend upon her, rely upon her, even admire her to a certain extent. Her intelligence, her insight, her wit, her charm... taken as a whole, there are times I almost forget that she's just a slave. There are times when I almost consider her... a friend.
That's patently ludicrous of course. Amber is a slave, born and bred. From the time she was born to the time she sat and posed for the photo above, she's never worn a single stitch of clothing, never slept in a bed of her own, never known anything but obedience and subservience. She's never known what it's like to have a will of her own. Hers is but to serve, nothing more and nothing less.
And yet, as she goes through my work and points out my typos with her typical grace and charm, and we laugh together about how I've confused this or that homophone yet again, I find myself forgetting that I'm talking to an inferior being, a member of a lesser race held in bondage by my own for generations. Then I look her up and down, see her flawless, naked body, with it's golden brown all over tan and I remember what she is.
Yes, that certainly is the way of things. But why? Why is Amber my slave and not my equal? Why is she my slave and not the other way around? That last question may seem absurd, but, as all too many in our society are quick to forget, there was a time when that would almost certainly have been the case. There was a time, in the distant past when whites ruled and blacks were kept as slaves. How then, has it come to this? More than anything else, that's the question I'm looking to answer before my work here is through.
Common wisdom would have it that blacks rule because we are superior, that whites are from a lesser race, inferior to us in mind, body and soul, and that is a compelling argument. After all, most people have known white slaves all their lives, working in the fields or factories, picking up garbage in the streets, or even serving them personally as domestic slaves in their own homes, and you would be hard pressed to look at those poor, naked, simpering, uneducated beasts of burden and see anything but an inferior. And yet there is Amber...
As is usually the case, history is more complicated than common wisdom would have it. Global Black Supremacy was far from a forgone conclusion ensured by our inherent superiority. It was a long and arduous process, a gradual process implemented with fearless cunning by visionary revolutionaries in a time when white power was everywhere and black slavery was a not so distant memory.
That struggle, and it's complexity will be the subject of our discourse here on this blog. Contained in the posts to follow will be translations, interpretations, dramatizations and direct depictions of primary sources with added commentary tracking the gradual transformation of the world from a society of white supremacy to one of black rule. Posts will chart the fall of white power from the era known as the White Decline (When the BWO movement had already begun to take shape and white society was in decay) to the Reparations Era (When the Reparations Laws transformed American society forever) to the early days of Black Rule when the black race had taken the reigns of power and all whites were either held in bondage or consigned to the wilderness to live as wild caucs.
It should be noted, however, that it is not the purpose of this bog to provide the reader with a complete chronology. If that is what you're looking for, then there are many text books written on that subject that you may consult, many of which I used myself in the course of my work. What you will find here is exactly what the title promises: a series of notes from the past, all of them faint little echoes of the world to come, complete with as much detail and nuance as I can provide. Taken individually, I hope that these posts will be thought provoking and incisive. Taken as a whole, I hope that this blog can provide my readers with a greater understanding of who we are as a people and how we came to be.
So, for lack of a better subject, I dedicate this work in it's entirety to my slave, Amber, who's dedication, wit, warm smile and naked ass are a constant reminder to me of how far a people can come, and how far they can fall.
-Elizabeth Wilson, August 21st, 547 AR
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This is my slave. Her name is Amber, and, in my estimation, she's fairly exceptional as far as slave's go. She can read and write for one thing. I got Amber from a private breeder who specializes in academic slaves. A far cry from your average field or domestic slave, Amber was bred for intelligence and educated so that she could serve as a tutor for the children of a wealthy master, or as an assistant to an academic type such as myself. She's also quite a looker too (the expensive ones usually are.)
I decided to begin this forward by talking about Amber for a few reasons. For one thing, Amber has been an invaluable resources in putting all of this together. Every step of the way, Amber's fingerprints are all over everything. In the course of this project, Amber has aided me by proofreading and fact checking my work, taking dictation, and even doing independent research on her own, sorting through tons and tons of primary sources in search of the cold hard information I needed to put together all of the future chapters and segments that lie ahead.
It would not be too much of a stretch to say that Amber, more than anyone else, has been a partner in my labors as Notes from a Dark Future came to be. Working side by side with her every step of the way, I've grown to depend upon her, rely upon her, even admire her to a certain extent. Her intelligence, her insight, her wit, her charm... taken as a whole, there are times I almost forget that she's just a slave. There are times when I almost consider her... a friend.
That's patently ludicrous of course. Amber is a slave, born and bred. From the time she was born to the time she sat and posed for the photo above, she's never worn a single stitch of clothing, never slept in a bed of her own, never known anything but obedience and subservience. She's never known what it's like to have a will of her own. Hers is but to serve, nothing more and nothing less.
And yet, as she goes through my work and points out my typos with her typical grace and charm, and we laugh together about how I've confused this or that homophone yet again, I find myself forgetting that I'm talking to an inferior being, a member of a lesser race held in bondage by my own for generations. Then I look her up and down, see her flawless, naked body, with it's golden brown all over tan and I remember what she is.
Yes, that certainly is the way of things. But why? Why is Amber my slave and not my equal? Why is she my slave and not the other way around? That last question may seem absurd, but, as all too many in our society are quick to forget, there was a time when that would almost certainly have been the case. There was a time, in the distant past when whites ruled and blacks were kept as slaves. How then, has it come to this? More than anything else, that's the question I'm looking to answer before my work here is through.
Common wisdom would have it that blacks rule because we are superior, that whites are from a lesser race, inferior to us in mind, body and soul, and that is a compelling argument. After all, most people have known white slaves all their lives, working in the fields or factories, picking up garbage in the streets, or even serving them personally as domestic slaves in their own homes, and you would be hard pressed to look at those poor, naked, simpering, uneducated beasts of burden and see anything but an inferior. And yet there is Amber...
As is usually the case, history is more complicated than common wisdom would have it. Global Black Supremacy was far from a forgone conclusion ensured by our inherent superiority. It was a long and arduous process, a gradual process implemented with fearless cunning by visionary revolutionaries in a time when white power was everywhere and black slavery was a not so distant memory.
That struggle, and it's complexity will be the subject of our discourse here on this blog. Contained in the posts to follow will be translations, interpretations, dramatizations and direct depictions of primary sources with added commentary tracking the gradual transformation of the world from a society of white supremacy to one of black rule. Posts will chart the fall of white power from the era known as the White Decline (When the BWO movement had already begun to take shape and white society was in decay) to the Reparations Era (When the Reparations Laws transformed American society forever) to the early days of Black Rule when the black race had taken the reigns of power and all whites were either held in bondage or consigned to the wilderness to live as wild caucs.
It should be noted, however, that it is not the purpose of this bog to provide the reader with a complete chronology. If that is what you're looking for, then there are many text books written on that subject that you may consult, many of which I used myself in the course of my work. What you will find here is exactly what the title promises: a series of notes from the past, all of them faint little echoes of the world to come, complete with as much detail and nuance as I can provide. Taken individually, I hope that these posts will be thought provoking and incisive. Taken as a whole, I hope that this blog can provide my readers with a greater understanding of who we are as a people and how we came to be.
So, for lack of a better subject, I dedicate this work in it's entirety to my slave, Amber, who's dedication, wit, warm smile and naked ass are a constant reminder to me of how far a people can come, and how far they can fall.
-Elizabeth Wilson, August 21st, 547 AR