The Hard Woke Tutelage Of Okey Honkey by Tia Ja’nae

Okey Honkey Magazine & Press, the racially inconsolable literary consciousness for ingenue yuppies of cracker America, passed away Tuesday upholding life, liberty, and the pursuit of censorship in the name of wokeness.  Sources confirmed the publication bit the dust scolding ignorant rednecks and Negroes alike without taking a breath, expiring faster than unrefrigerated chicken shouting their three favorite letters of the alphabet at the transcribed age of three.

Writers across Twitter cringingly dignified them as a selective mill publication that knew all the words but failed to speak sentences that made sense.  Publications revered them as an imprint that boasted drinking from the cup of literary life but found a dead cockroach at the bottom.  For readers that had the pleasure of their scribes, their descent into online hell would be nothing without the Deliverance cover band they hired to greet them on arrival.

According to former employees, Okey Honkey entered the publishing world solely for accolades.  At first the imprint began a failed attempt winning the Pulitzer Prize, albeit in physics, by completing Angry Birds Space before ever publishing a book.  Forced to earn awards the old-fashioned way, sources claim they shifted gears for sales, embracing all principals of the woke movement they could take to the bank.  As a result, expectations were high moving forward.

A candid never released memoir of their editor’s Negro Lives Matter experiences burning Richard Pryor’s racially epithet titled comedy albums looked promising until the imprint realized his Negro heritage.  Embarrassed for the mistake, Okey Honkey’s next outing was a due diligence labor of love.  The aptly titled anti-Rachel Dolezal anthology Girl With The Negro Tattoo cemented their literary wokeness but failed short of the mark as a commercial success.

Optimistic for sales, attempted book burnings of 1970s Hustler issues designed to lure in MeToo readers backfired as they were scrutinized for attacking a disabled business owner’s livelihood.  Writers say this was the first of many halts in publications, as the imprint spent six months in training to ensure their political correctness.  This included, but was not limited to, absorbing themselves in as many episodes of Maude as Amazon Prime would allow for free.

Moving up the ranks as a Negro Lives Matter publisher combined with experiencing Negroes in the biblical sense gave Okey Donkey a new lease on literature.  Campaigns to end Negro disenfranchisement within the literary community followed; executive decisions to exclusively pay their token Negro writers was heralded as innovative brave wokeness.  Ofay sources rejected for financial compensation of their work claimed the decision proved to many that hashtag trends had amassed more rights than wops, kikes, japtalians, and Jim Crow had.

Unapologetically forging ahead in the lit scene like Sherman marching through Atlanta, the imprint publicly accused peckerwood writers for their alleged complicity in exploiting the pains of their Negro counterparts’ existence in America.  A lucky break of cracker guilt over the death of George Floyd intensified their efforts against contemporaries publishing transgressive fiction under the auspice of hurting Negro sensibilities without a justifiable token for inclusion.

A series of tweets condemning redneck writers embracing their skin complexions in a factual sense paid off, affording Okey Honkey the luxury of rising to the top of the heap as the authoritative mouthpiece of woke literary ethic.  Under their watchful eye, honkeys could not include violence in crime stories, cocaine in dope tales, pimps in prostitution pulps, and crackers getting cracked in the head by cops unless systemic Negro oppression was involved and apparent.

Contemporaries say the imprint discovering the abortion episode of Maude was the beginning of the end; their support of the phrase “her body her choice” ended the minute Covid-19 became vogue.  Upon discovering Norman Lear was devoid of any modern cracker guilt in his body of work combined with proclaiming Blazing Saddles the funniest film ever made, the imprint launched massive attacks against the television icon to cancel him from all online platforms.

A year long fight was not without its frustrations, especially as Okey Honkey wrestled with the Negro community affectionately embracing Archie Bunker from All In The Family and Tom Willis from The Jeffersons like drunk uncles at a family reunion.  Sources say the fight, similar to their hubris, fizzled out like a wet fart after White Castle once Negroes issued Lear an honorary Teena Marie pass for Sanford & Son, Good Times, & The Jeffersons on World Star Hip Hop.

Close associates say the imprint became obsessed with setting a proper example.  After scrupulously vetting their own masthead, they made an example out of writer Eaton Beaver, whom they quietly chastised for erring on the side of transgressive fiction with alleged culture vulture imprints they proclaimed as racist and sexist.  According to Twitter efforts were futile, as Beaver outed Okey Honkey’s scolding messages.  Sources say the imprint included a crotch shot to reinforce peckerwood erectile inferiority to Beaver, before disassociating themselves from him.

The spectacle left a sour taste in the mouth of writers, as did efforts of explaining their understanding of Negro struggles from a solitary experience waiting for direct deposit royalties to clear after midnight.  Ideologically believing Negroes would be more supportive to voices booming the longest and belching the loudest as a matter of cultural nuance, the imprint spent weeks viscerally repeating “Negro Lives Matter” with as much vigor as Zaire fans yelling “Ali Bomaye” during the Rumble In The Jungle fight, which kept the imprint in the public eye.

Okey Honkey bought the multicultural woke farm from complications of undiagnosed literary hypertension with sprinkles of publication heart disease that enshrined them more as a non-threatening Negro statistic than they could have ever hoped to be.  Sources say three long years screaming wokeness to the uninitiated put significant strain on an already weak publishing heart that refused to walk another beat with the Negro drum.  Their final prompt on the literary page is a spellcheck reminder to publishers that wearing blackface may one day lead them to mourning their company to death.

 

 

Tia Ja’nae is a Creative Writer and Master Propagandist. In her spare time she is a Trekkie, classified by the order of your government.