Some words from an essay

If you google “Kid Cudi How to Make it in America” you will see the still of a video in which he later wakes up in bed with a white woman. He is depressed. As am I and Drake, but so were Chester and Chris, obviously. In the show however, Kid Cudi, hereafter referred to as Scott, could indeed not be taught about the dram’ through sitcom. Scott plays a drug dealer named Mandingo Johnson or something like that, who, on occasion fucks the older white women who buy drugs from him. I’ve never sold drugs, in spite of the fact that white strangers both online and on the street attempt to sequester them from me regularly. In the scene you’ve just watched of course, a white lady leaves her meeting with Scott in which she has procured the drugs, after which, he does a lil’ jig for the children, who, of course, love him. This does not erase the sexual tension between Scott and the woman. In fact it sanitizes, or rather, emasculates him just enough to boil Scott down to his use value–weed and dick–without him being scary. It’s a lovely trick. He lowers himself to the ground and gives the children these jive ass high fives.


Later, with Scott’s all white friends, he gives unsolicited relationship advice.

“You need closure,” he begins, before rolling up his sleeve.

Then he reveals a scar on his forearm. One of the friends says, before Scott can explain, “Did somebody shoot you?”

And Scott says, “No, it’s a Jimmy Choo heel. This girl I know did a cigarette smash right in my forearm. You get one of these gentlemen, you know it’s a wrap.”

“You know it’s a psycho,” the other man says.

“No,” Scott says. “Close, Serbian. Sabina Bloskovic.”


The baby talk code-switching Scott does with the white woman’s children seems even more ridiculous when he gets in the car with his friend Pablo Neruda or something.

“Bye Domingo,” the children say.

“Bye Symphony, bye Cyrus,” says Scott, waving them off. “Learn somethin’” he continues.

And we do.

In the car, his homey Pablo says, “I’m just tryna sell weed to harmless white people like you do, make a few extra dollars.”

Weed ain’t the only thing that these niggas are selling, though at least it is harmless.


In another clip, the white woman climbs on top of Scott and tells him to close his eyes, then she surprises him with a new tattoo on her hip. She asks him if the white man (Ben) who she is in love with will care about something she wrote. Mandingo asks if everything she does is centered on Ben, because, he says it “seems you have a knack for being involved with people in his orbit.”

He asks if it’s why they are having this relationship.

“Are we having a relationship?” she asks, the tone in her voice rising to make the audacity clear.

“I mean we’re having something,” Mandingo says, fake laughing, desperate, sad. He knows better than to look directly at her so he stares down and away. The camera gives you her perspective, the subject. He musters the courage to say “I really wanna know what the deal is.”


Childish Gambino released a video called “This is America” to rave reviews, and there were no white folks featured. It was brought to my attention that his partner is white.

Scott though, is obviously sad, and will likely, eventually kill himself. I just hope I’ll be as sad about it as when Chris and Chester did, and, if by then, Scott will have made it.

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