Disclaimer: Satire, folks. George Carlin–style, foul-mouthed, legally protected venting. If you can’t handle it, grab a juice box and find a safe space.

Two Black men. Two trees. Two days. Mississippi. And the cops say, “No foul play suspected.” You dumb motherfuckers. No foul play? What the hell do you call a Black man dangling from a tree in Mississippi—performance art?

You can smell the bullshit from here. The coroner’s out there faster than Amazon Prime, waving his little clipboard: “No broken bones, no injuries.” Yeah, because lynchings come with a warranty card now. No damage, no foul. What’s next, they hung themselves politely? With safety ropes from Home Depot?

This is terrorism. Old-school, white-sheet, rope-around-the-neck, don’t-you-dare-vote terrorism. And don’t tell me it’s coincidence. Mississippi invented the “suicide by lynching” cover story. Hell, they’ve been running that scam since Jim Crow. Write it down, say it with a straight face, and count on America being too distracted by football scores and TikTok to give a damn.

But here’s the endgame: lawlessness! That’s the word. Say it enough times and you’ve got FOTUS marching in the National Guard with Humvees and body armor, all to “protect” Black folks. Protect them by parking tanks in their neighborhoods, right through Election Day. “Sorry ma’am, you can’t get to the polling station without crossing this checkpoint. Safety first.” Meanwhile, white suburbs? Guard won’t even roll down their fucking cul-de-sacs.

And the good ol’ boys in white sheets, out by the bonfire? Untouchable. Oh, that’s not domestic terrorism, that’s “heritage.” Call it a family picnic, pass the potato salad, and light another cross.

This isn’t protection. This is occupation. This is Mississippi, 2025, hanging Black men in trees and calling it Tuesday. And the worst part? They’re not even ashamed. They don’t hide it. They fucking brag about it with their silence, their smirks, their “no foul play.”

America’s strangling itself with the same ropes it pretends not to see. And if you’re not furious, you’re not paying attention.