Storming the Capitol, and the immortality of Hip-Hop’s first Supervillain: A stream of Consciousness as told by the Best Psychologist in the World

Napoleon Wells
7 min readJan 7, 2021

I’m the Best Psychologist in the World. Figured it best that we get that shit out of the way from the gate, so you can take whatever we discuss here as gospel. With regard to the human condition, I have to fall off of the cloud I am on, tumble, and descend to a space where most are to even begin to have the conversation about all of what we are seeing. Rather, the conversation about all that we have deceived ourselves about. And those, ultimately, are legion. We have been so profoundly dishonest about our nation, our narrative and our near/far family that we are unseeing. Never are we blind. Not to these things, and those many just over there.

What we saw, to our fantastic way of viewing events through our violenty narcissitic American lens, was the very sacking of Rome by some horde that we had assumed was devout, or incapable of such audacity, or so poorly heeled and organized so as to pose no true threat to our way of being and sensibilities. What they reminded us of, what they stirred us to witnessing, was how committed they, and we, are to the notion of Supremacy as religion. They, before the eyes of the world which drinks from the American cup of righteous excellence, performed a minor miracle. They brought the will of Supremacy forth before the masses, and shook this farce of civil political disagreement completely and utterly. They rattled it. Shouted it awake. Forced it into hiding. Those many leaders, those gifted divine status by Supremacy, were made to lie to us yet again, about that moment being the bridge too far. From their protected perches, fleeing from an enemy who had served as either fuel or foil, they would say no more. The lies about a stolen election, and the cruelty, and bullying, and emotional abuses were never too far. The fracturing of a faux-civilization was acceptable. Victimizing the vulnerable was little more than an inconvenience, and necessary. But this, no, this was the tipping point.

See, we were fully aware that our nation’s President would use the psychological and emotional nuclear options when frustrated, and defeated, which he has been. See, we live near and around the horde which has chosen him as their Emperor, and we understood the bible from which he ministered to their basest selves. He was elected on the understanding that there was a cultural war for the soul of this faux-civilization. He was chosen as the de-facto ruler of a kingdom whose inhabitants had determined that the blood, and neglect and sacrifices of vulnerable humanity were all essential for greater glory. He was the inevitable answer to the question of what becomes when so many of us make efforts to wish away Supremacy, and those who sit about and imbibe it see it as no more than a recreational drug.

Yesterday may have been surreal for the first few moments, certainly. Immediately after that initial shock, you should admit to yourself that you continue to expect those many to ride down your street on horseback, or to be pulled from your vehicle, or to be shouted down in your workplace with obscenities. Some part f you expects the South to rise again, surely. So, the events at the Capitol, if we are being transparent and brutally mindful of our fears, came just a hair sooner than expected.

See, we imagine those who we watched in horror are some distant They. We would like to believe that, even though we know that they live next door, that they are decent enough people, or conversely, are all evil, or have been childishly misled, and we allow our Pollyana to run wild with all of the reasons why. See, our neighbors, and friends, and lovers, who are family and tribe to those many who sacked the Capitol building would like to take these few precious moments to agree, and placate and distance themselves. They would rather say nothing of their approach to that bastard horde which includes some drunken combination of tolerance, indulgence and private glee at the violent absurdity of it all. Again, we will tell necessary truths here. Deception can return to our conversations on the morrow.

Supremacy is always with us. It has never been leashed or fully contained. It has had moments when it has appeared midly sedated, but we should not fool ourselves into trusting the notion that progress had somehow hobbled Supremacy. It has crafted a Golem of poverty, and a rural base, and confederate flags and a complete and utter disconnection from civic duty and reality, that we observe and mock. It’s little more than a red herring, streaking past us nude, for our amusement. Supremacy is, in fact, evolved. It is savvy and mobile. It sacked the Capitol building, and it’s human nanites came away relatively unscathed. There was no suprise in that etiehr. Was there?

We would like to imagine that we were watching simple privilege and racism and the crumbling state of public American education on display, and those would simply be narrative lies as well. We saw the very beast that we have fed and petted from the inception of this faux-civilization. It has always lived with a brutal, war-like psychology, and so there was no surprise that the devout were so easily and readily incited to action. That was no riot or protest. That was an assertion. It was a loud proclamation. That was the point in the verse where the MC shouted “Remember Me Bitches”, and yall acted like he wasn’t talking about you. Exactly you.

Perhaps you are hoping that this moment will be some sort of watershed, poetic point of reflection. Perhaps you are faithfully waiting for the moment of joined purpose and the emergence of a third, new party, based on some shared vision and goal. Perhaps you failed to see your American neighbor, dressed for the invasion. Perhaps you missed the horns and war paint. Perhaps you failed to observe the restraint of the authorities, and failed to constrast that with the abstract chaotic art of the abuses of Black Lives Matter protestors so few months before.

What you saw was Supremacy, which has always been nearest you, always, setting a dreadful fire in your living room, because, quite frankly, you simply were not attending to the tantrum it has been having. You were not treating it as a living, breathing beast, and it would not settle for that. Nor will it ever again.

I won’t offer answers. I will not demand that my tribe, we children of the African continent, do more. I will direct all of my family to stay yalls ass firmly entrenched in your joy. This is not your vehicle to repair. You have done plenty in this anguished season. You flipped that White House. You flipped that Senate. Do not train your eyes on the solution here. Leave that to those neighbors who we have enabled to behave rather like Gotham City police to our Batman. Ignore that signal in the sky. Tell your stories, and drink your wellness, and feed your growing selves. Me? I’m the Best Psychologist in the World. All the shit I wear is basically a space suit, as I keep my eyes trained heavwenward, occasionally leaving that cloud to entertain yall. I’m a Dogonaut at my core.

Yall really don’t need to talk about toxicity in others. Or narcissism. Or nihilism. Not truly. For all of the faux humility surrounding owning one’s toxic traits, and identifying those in others, and accepting responsibility, and espousing personal agency, most yall really just enabling the very same deception that feeds the above. Let me help you, truly. Your toxic trait is your narrative. It was poorly formed by your family, and poorly informed by most of your environment, and then neglected by your needs and baseless insecurities, and then bowed by trauma, and now it serves little more role than that of delusional protector of your wayward emotions. Your intuition is poorly educated, and relatively paranoid most days, and a plainly self-sabotaging reporter of evidence and findings. It informs your narrative. Most of you are too afraid to leave your emotional island and engage your trusted and desired others in a real conversation about your truest self. Your narrative wont allow you. You refuse to learn explore what you think of yourself, to peel away what you do not need. You would rather suggest that you toxicly distance yourself from others, knowing that you see that they already neglect you. The blame, per your narrative, is with others. Not history. Or chemistry. Or circumstance. Your toxic trait isnt the bullshit found in your horoscope. No, you are not that classic song that others skipped on their so called favorite album. Nah, you wont end those generational urses by simply posting a meme about them. No, you arent there for everyone when they aren’t there for you, and those works of fiction do not represent your true life or self. You are a blessed, complicated mess of a human being. Your narrative, as disheveled and underdeveloped and wounded as it is, makes that so.

There is certainly more, but i am reviewing the paperwork for my next talk, and none of you deserve more from me yet.

Hip-hop had its one and only supervillain in the form of MF Doom. He elevated the conversation and the concepts in the art, and I am glad that we had him. He died in October, and we didn’t learn this until December. Such are the ways of villains. His lyrics, while not on par with the very best, were oftne so much greater because of his feel, delivery and thoughtful approach to crafting the overall experience. All rappers want to be loved, wealthy, adored and heard. They project so much of what we need out of themselves into a world that often doesn’t want to engage our humanity in any realized way. Doom presented as remarkably realized. He would make them hear, and hear what they didn’t think they wanted to hear, because he was going to make that music, for those who needed it. His sounds often accompany me when Iam building Afrofuture, and refusing to own the tropes laid out in the art, I picutre Doom in his lair, nodding his approval. We need more good supervillains, and I am pleased that we had one in him. Rest well brother, good work.

Do not despair in these times. The Best Psychologist in the World lives here on Earth with you, and you are welcome for that.

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Napoleon Wells

I am a Clinical Psychologist, husband and father, Professor, lover of all things Star Wars, Wakandan refugee, TEDx performer, and believer in human potential