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A journal dedicated to truth, freedom of speech and radical spiritual consciousness. Our mission is the liberation of men and women from oppression, violence and abuse of any kind, interpersonal, political, religious, economic, psychosexual. We believe as Fidel Castro said, "The weapon of today is not guns but consciousness."
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  • 09/09/18--22:20: Parable of the Dog
  • Parable of the Dog

    "The ghetto wasn't bad enough
    then the hippies came
    dog shit everywhere....
    ghetto wasn't bad enough
    then the neo-colonial hippies came
    dogs everywhere
    WOMAN AND DOG MISSING
    REWARD FOR DOG!
    Ghetto wasn't bad enough
    no more niggas
    dogs everywhere
    dog shit opioid human shit
    everywhere
    tech shit in suites
    poor people street shit
    dogs
    dogs
    human dogs
    four legged dogs
    two legged dogs
    cats too
    granddaughter said
    she go have kitty cat party
    no dogs allowed
    why grandbaby
    dog poop too big
    kitty cat party only.
    --Marvin X
    9/9/18

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     2

    Marvin X Book Project

    $225 of $50,000


    Coming soon from Black Birdg Press
    Notes of Artistic Freedom Fighter Marvin X

    INTRODUCTION
    By Nathan Hare, PhD
    Father of Black and Ethnic Studies
    San Francisco State University


    With the return of “white nationalism” to the international stage and the White House and new threats of nuclear war, the black revolutionary occupies a crucial position in society today. Yet a black revolutionary of historic promise can live among us almost unknown on the radar screen, even when his name is as conspicuous as Marvin X (who may be the last to wear an X in public view since the assassination of Malcolm X).
    This semblance of anonymity is due in part to the fact that the black revolutionary is liable to live a part of his or her life incognito, and many become adept at moving in and out of both public and private places sight unseen. For instance, I didn’t know until I read Marvin X’s “Notes of Artistic Freedom Fighter” that when he put on a memorial service for his comrade and Black Panther leader Eldridge Cleaver, 1998, he was unaware that Eldridge’s ex, Kathleen Cleaver, had traveled from the East Coast and slipped into the auditorium of the church with her daughter Joju. As one of the invited speakers I had noticed her curiosity when I remarked that I had been aware of Eldridge before she was (he and I /had had articles in the Negro History Bulletin in the spring of 1962) and had met her before Eldridge did, when I was introduced to her while she was working with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee at Tuskegee institute, but luckily for Eldridge I was happily married to the woman who years later would escort Kathleen around San Francisco in what I recall as a failed search for a black lawyer to take his case when he returned from exile in France.
    Like many other persons across this promised land, I also thought I knew Marvin X. I can clearly recall seeing him walk into the offices of The Black Scholar Magazine, then in Sausalito, with a manuscript we published in the early 1970s. However, his reputation had preceded him. For one thing, then California Governor Ronald Reagan had publicly issued a directive to college administrators at UCLA and Fresno State University to get Angela Davis and Marvin X off the campuses and keep them off. The Fresno Bee Newspaper quoted Reagan as he entered the State College Board of Trustees meeting in his capacity as president of the board, "I want Marvin X off campus by any means necessary!"
    Over the years I continued to encounter him: when he organized the First National Black Men’s Conference, 1980, Oakland Auditorium, that drew over a thousand black men (without benefit of media coverage) to pay their way into a conference aimed at getting black men to rise again. I was a member of his Board of Directors. I also attended a number of other conferences he organized, such as the Kings and Queens of Black Consciousness, San Francisco State University, 2001, and the San Francisco Black Radical Book Fair, 2004, as well as productions of his successful play, “One Day in the Life,” with a scene of his last meeting with his friend, Black Panther Party co-founder, Dr. Huey P. Newton, in a West Oakland Crack house.
    I will never forget the time he recruited me and the seasoned psychiatric social worker, Suzette Celeste, MSW, MPA, to put on weekly nighttime workshops in black consciousness and strategies for “overcoming the addiction to white supremacy.” On many a night I marveled to see him and his aides branch out fearlessly into the gloom of the Tenderloin streets of San Francisco and bring back unwary street people and the homeless to participate in our sessions, along with a sparse coterie of the black bourgeoisie who didn’t turn around or break and run on seeing the dim stairway to the dungeon-like basement of the white Catholic church.
    But when I received and read Marvin’s manuscript, I called and told him that he had really paid his dues to the cause of black freedom but regretfully had not yet received his righteous dues.
    As if to anticipate my impression, the designer of the book cover has a silhouetted image of Marvin, though you wouldn’t recognize him if you weren’t told, in spite of the flood lights beaming down on him from above like rays directly from high Heaven, as if spotlighting the fact that Marvin ‘s day has come.
    You tell me why one of the blackest men to walk this earth, in both complexion and consciousness, is dressed in a white suit and wearing a white hat; but that is as white as it gets, and inside the book is black to the bone, a rare and readable compendium of Marvin’s unsurpassed struggle for black freedom and artistic recognition.
    Black revolutionaries wondering what black people should do now can jump into this book and so can the Uncle Tom: the functional toms find new roles for the uncle tom who longs for freedom but prefers to dance to the tune of the piper; the pathological tom, whose malady is epidemic today, as well as the Aunt Tomasinas, can be enlightened and endarkened according to their taste in this literary and readable smorgasbord.
    “Notes of Artistic Freedom Fighter Marvin X” is a diary and a compendium, a textbook for revolutionary example and experience, a guide for change makers, a textbook for Black Studies and community action, including city planners who will profit from his proposals and experiences in his collaboration with the mayor and officials of Oakland to commercialize and energize the inner city, with a Black Arts Movement Business District (BAMBD) that could be the greatest black cultural and economic boon since the Harlem Renaissance. No longer just talk and get-tough rhetoric, his current project is cultural economics, Oakland’s Black Arts Movement Business District, an urban model evolving in real time in the heart of downtown Oakland, where people like Governor Jerry Brown once tried their hand before they turned and fled back into the claws of the status quo.

    I can’t say everything is in this book, just that it reflects the fact that Marvin, for all he has done on the merry-go-round of black social change, is still in the process of becoming.
    Readers from the dope dealer to the dope addict to the progressive elite, the Pan African internationalist, the amateur anthropologist, the blacker than thou, the try to be black, the blacker-than-thous, the try to be white (who go to sleep at night and dream they will wake up white) and other wannabes; in other words from the Nouveau Black to the petit bourgeois noir and bourgie coconuts, “Notes of Artistic Freedom Fighter Marvin X” is a fountainhead of wisdom, with a fistful of freedom nuggets and rare guidance in resisting oppression or/and work to build a new and better day.
    Dr. Nathan Hare
    3/8/18
    Dr. Nathan Hare, PhD and Marvin X

    Introduction by Dr Nathan Hare
    Black Bird Press, Oakland CA
    2018



    Other works coming soon

    Sweet Tea, Dirty Rice, poems
    Mythology of Pussy and Dick, Expanded version, 400 pages
    Collected Plays

    Books to reprint

    Fly to Allah, poems
    Land of My Daughters, poems
    Love and War, poems
    In the Crazy House Called America, essays
    Beyond Religion toward Spirituality, essays
    Wish I could tell you the Truth, essays
    Wisdom of Plato Negro, Parables,Fables
    Memoir of Eldridge Cleaver, My Friend the Devil
    How to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy
    Son of Man, proverbs
    Woman, Man's Best Friend, proverbs,poems, parables, songs
    Somethin' Proper, autobiography


    If you would like to support the writing projects of Marvin X, please donate any amount to my campaign, e.g., $1.00, $5.00, $100.00, $1000.00, $10,000. Your contribution can be tax deductible. 

    Marvin X has given over a half century of his life to the Black Arts/Black Liberation Movement. He has endured exile, jail, prison, barred from teaching at universities and colleges, hated and despised by black reactionaries and white supremacists, pseudo white liberals and undercover Zionists.  Yet, he remains tenacious, indefatigable and peripatetic.  

    32843034_1536553645677151_r.jpeg

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    Cold Wind from the North: The Prehistoric European Origins of Racism Explained by Diop's Two Cradle Theory. By Vulindlela Ijiola Wobogo (Charleston: Books on Demand, 2011. Pp. 554. Contents, Introduction, Bibliography and Index, $29.99)
    In light of the 50 year anniversary of the BSU Strike at San Francisco State University that gave birth to Black Studies in American universities, it is an honor to write this review.  I am a proud alumnus of the Pan Afrikan Students Union of San Francisco State University (from 1996 to 1998, when the organization was banned) and was a student enrolled in Wobogo's BLS 213 course "Kemetic Strategies in Physical Science".  In this course, not only did I learn of the Afrikan foundations of modern science, but I was exposed to fundamental techniques of physical science, i.e., natural philosophic inquiry. This was even before Theophile Obenga, (past Department Chair of Black Studies and one of Africa's greatest living scholars) came to SF State to lead the Black Studies Department in the new phase of intellectual warfare in defending what Ptah Mitchell, President of the School of Afrikan Philosophy,  called 'the scholastic sovereignty of Black Studies'. Ironically, it was in this BLS 213 course that I met and studied with a new generation of future African scientists, engineers, philosophers, mathematicians, technologists, scholars and business leaders across the African diaspora.    
    As a professor, Wobogo had the ability to explain intricate and complicated scientific theories in such a clear and concise manner that I didn't realize until later, when having to take advanced courses in physics or mathematics; that the conceptual understanding I had of certain natural scientific phenomena was due to Wobogo's teaching. All too often I perplexed some of the non African scientists and professionals and researchers I worked with in graduate school  or industry by articulating an idea (or theory) with such clarity that their response was usually: "I don't know how you know that...." or something along those lines. Thinking of Wobogo's mastery, I am reminded of the late John Henrik Clarke, who mentioned that he lectured and taught so many popular courses that he did not really have enough time and luxury to publish masterpieces of original research. Now that Baba Wobogo has retired and is able to write, I am thankful that he was able to publish this work (along with subsequent others).
    Even though "Cold Wind" is an expansion of two of his earlier published works, "Diop's Two Cradle Theory and the Origin of White Racism"(1976), and "Anokwalei Enyo"(1977), this is a fundamental work in the history and philosophy of science for myriad reasons. In the tradition of detecting scientific laws of social nature analog to laws of physical nature, Wobogo synthesizes the ideas of modern African scholarship from the past 90 years to present a complete theory of the origin of racism. We are reminded of the contributions made by various African scholars to this social scientific theory, usually attributed only to Cheikh Anta Diop.   
    Wobogo's contention (recognized by Marimba Ani and others) is that "specific conditions of life in the arctic cradle since the beginning of the racial differentiation spawned the development of high levels of individualism-competitiveness, xenophobia, genocentricity and ethnocentricity. Of these qualities, xenophobia can be characterized as proto-white racism, which flowered upon contact of European homo sapien with African homo sapien and Asian homo sapien".    
    From this basic premise Wobogo takes us through the history and shows how this European trait evolves into the many forms of racism experienced by African people throughout the continents and nations of the world, since about 20,000 BC. The book is also semi-autobiographical since Wobogo is an observer-participant in what he terms the African American Revolution (1960-1975) that led to the creation of Black Studies. And in a manner consistent with traditional scholarship, Wobogo tells a first person narrative of the certain historical events without centering on self aggrandizement  and personal ego.  work and replaces it with scientific rigor and 'demonstration of authority'.
    As an educator and lifelong student, this work is crucial in clarifying, if not solving one of the basic problems facing (African) humanity: racism; even when housed under the auspices of genetic engineering and computer technology. Wobogo paints a picture of what a future would look like with or without the (maatian) balance of African contribution to modern problems of science and society, and how incomplete a picture would be, especially for academics, which refuse to acknowledge Africa in the forefront; whether it is from anthropologists, technologists, or a hybrid of the two.  This is a highly recommended book for future scholars and researchers continuing the "great work".
    Ramal Lamar
    Historian of Science
    School of Afrikan Philosophy

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    Notes on Dr. Ayodele Nzinga's mytho-magical drama: Protection Shields
    by
    Marvin X


    Dr. Ayodele Nzinga, founder, producer, playwright and director of Oakland's Lower Bottom Playaz opened a new play at the Flight Deck, 1540 Broadway, downtown Oakland. It is a myth-ritual dance drama in the Black Arts Movement Theatre tradition, based on the Yoruba story telling in the best tradition of African didactic narrative, i.e., teaching a moral story based on ancient spirituality and morality, i.e., the myth of Eshu and the moral teaching of do the right thing. 

    In the 1960s, Black Arts Movement poets, playwrights, dancers, drummers, painters turned away from Christian mythology and ritual to embrace Islamic, Yoruba, Rasta and Hebrew myth-ritual. It was a conscious denunciation of European White supremacist Christianity that approved the genocide of 100 million, and even today, 2018, North American Africans suffer trauma and unresolved grief so well depicted in Protective Shields. 

    The Yoruba priest who probably influenced 1960s Black African culture the most, was Oba Serjiman Olatunji who spread Yoruba culture in Harlem, who single handedly presented Yoruba culture in its most flamboyant and royal manner. As a Harlemite during 1968-69, I recall Oba Serjiman parading through the streets of Harlem with his entourage of wives, priests and devotees in elegant flowing robes and head pieces, chanting Yoruba songs that helped ignite the Black Arts Movement of the 60s, the most radical artistic and literary revolution in American history, alas, it gave birth to the Black Panthers, Black Arts Movement, Black Studies, Ethnic Studies, Gender Studies, et al.

    Black Arts Movement co-founders,Amina and Amiri Baraka, were married in a Yoruba ceremony, officiated by Oba Serjiman, who soon departed Harlem to establish his  African Yoruba Village in Sheldon, South Carolina. According  to the new Oba/king, before his father could have peace with the whites in the area, he had to show superior magic in the manner of Moses and Pharaoh's magicians.

    Oba Serjiman, obviously influenced the Black Arts Movement, alas, he is perhaps the most critical factor in the BAM/Yoruba intersection. There was Nigerian drummer Oljunji reinstating the drum as spiritual therapy with rhythms for all the orishas, i.e., gods, for Harlemites and North American Africans coast to coast deprived of the healing power of the drum since arriving in the Americas, most especially in the USA, elsewhere the drum created new world beats in the old world manner, for orisha rhythms never change--an eternal tribute to the identity and power of the gods and their  connection with devotees, supplicants, sycophants.....

    A Black Mass was Amiri Baraka's interpretation and synchronization of Elijah Muhammad's Myth of Yakub, the mad scientist who created the white man through genetic engineering, but Baraka infused his myth drama with Yoruba and Sufi teachings. We applaud Baraka for utilizing original North American African mythology but extending the myth with African and Islamic myth-rituals. 

    BAM theatre folks like the New Lafayette's director Bob Macbeth, Barbara Ann Teer's National Black Theatre, the Last Poets and myself tried to create Black Ritual Theatre, with dramatic energy derived from Yoruba, Islamic and Christian myth-ritual, especially the Holy Ghost church. It had the high level of energy we wanted in the BAM theatre. Further, we wanted to destroy that fourth wall that separated the actors from audience, forcing them into oneness and celebration of the Divine Spirit. My contribution to Ritual Theatre is Resurrection of the Dead, a myth-ritual dance drama by Marvin X, Black Educational Theatre, San Francisco, 1972. In the African tradition of drama, there is no audience, all enjoy the communal experience. When I was told Vudun is a democratic society, I understood in  the Vudun ritual one only comes forward when their orisha's rhythm is beat on the drum. Correct me if I am wrong. 

    We cannot leave BAM Master Teacher Sun Ra out of this discussion since he fused Kemit mythology with socalled science fiction, although Sun Ra is considered the father of Afro-futurism, Octavia Butler, the Mother. But Sun Ra took Yoruba, Islamic, Christian and all other isms and schisms, including Jazz, Blues and any other sounds to construct his Myth-Ritual Arkestra, demonstrating the highest level of BAM aesthetics, philosophy, dramaturgy. No BAM artist approached Sun Ra's vision of smashing European art and white supremacy mythology. 

    In the grand tradition of African drama that originated in the Osirian drama of Resurrection, modeled on the annual inundation of the Hapi River, aka, Nile, Ayodele reveals to us the necessity of high morals and values as the ultimate Protective Shield. 

    If we cut to the chase in Ayo's drama at the crossroads ruled by Eshu, aka Legba, aka Ptah, aka Peter, Protection Schields taught us the only protection is to do the right thang, thus the long monologues by characters fighting within themselves to do the right thing. To borrow a line from Islam, we say, "Ithdina s-sirata al mustaqim, Guide us on the right path." The Christian Bible tells us to put on the armor of God. 

    Dr. Ayodele Nzinga forces us to transcend the Christian and Muslim myth-ritual, with repeated calls out to the Yoruba orishas, displaying Yoruba myth ritual of offering fruit to placate the orishas, without which one cannot possibly navigate the crossroads, not without Eshu in the persona of a child, yet wielding spiritual power to present the suffering adults with the Protective Shield, even the suspected murderer of the mother's son is given the Protective Shield but only after he declares the uselessness of murder or "blood for blood" as the narrator repeatedly informed us. 


    A mother wants revenge for the murder of her son. Having lost a son, we were beyond understanding of her trauma and unresolved grief. She was presented with a Protection Shield by Eshu represented by a child who adorned all the supplicants who submitted to do the right thing, some for the first time in their lives. Alas, my patron, Abdul Leroy James, used to say, "Most of you people (excluding himself since he was a successful multi-millionaire from real estate but he did make possible my book projects and community events such as the Melvin Black Forum, Oakland Auditorium, 1979, National Black Men's Conference, Oakland Auditorium, 1981, Kings and Queens of Black  Consciousness, San Francisco State University, 2001, Tenderloin Black Radical Book Fair, 2004, San Francisco, One Day in the Life, docudrama of Marvin X's addiction and recovery, the longest running North American African drama in Northern California history, 1996-2002)--Ancestor Abdul Leroy James said, "Most of us ain't done nothing right in our lives.". 

    Protection Shield's dominant theme was do the right thang! If you kill, the pain of revenge is inescapable, blood feuds for evermore, honor killings. All the supplicants submitted to do the right thang and were thus blessed to transcend the crossroads with the blessing of Eshu. 

    Throughout the drama, all the orishas were called upon to do their thang. Playwright, producer, director, Dr. Ayodole Nzinga consciously employed the Yoruba myth-ritual to rock 2018 Black Christian myth-ritual, although Africans in the Americas long ago figured out how to synchronize African spirituality with European Christian mythology. We fused Haitian  Vudun, Cuban and Puerto Rican Santaria, Barzilian Condomble and other Caribbean spiritual persuasions into a eclecticism of functional religiosity. We can attend a Catholic mass then visit a Vudun ceremony to placate the Orishas without feeling contradictory.

    The Yoruba narrative in Ayo's drama resembled Black American Christian ritual, or Christianity in general with its major theme of suffering and death, although the joy of resurrection derived from Kemet, Egypt, Africa's Nile Valley Civilization that extended the 4,000 miles of the Hapi River, aka Nile, source of  basic Christianity, Judaism and Islamic religiosity. See Yusef Ali's translation of the Holy Qur'an and his notes on the steps of Egyptian Religion toward Islam. 


    Dramatic Structure

    For sure, Dr. Ayodele transcended Western dramaturgy. Protection Shields was completely devoid of dialogue, instead a plethora of monologues was employed, many offstage, but even more pervasive was her use of choreography to advance the narrative. The Yoruba method of utilizing dance to advance narrative is well known, going back thousands of years. We know the dancers employed classic Yoruba choreography to tell the story, for every dance movement is connected with an Orisha,yet as much as we enjoyed the dancers whose choreography advanced the narrative, still, something was missing and sorely needed to make this myth-ritual dramatic. Dramatic film can move to stage and visa versa, but Protection Shields is the mytho-history of the hero Wolfhawk Jaguar, an individual experiencing a rite of passage and his devotees enjoying a healing communal rite of passage as well.

    We were not satisfied with the hero sleeping throughout the drama of his myth history. We see him on the second level, primarily asleep in a dream mode, but since he is also the rapper and high priest of this drama, he must be utilized beyond his dream state. After all we hear him and see him in constant movie clips buy why not allow him to take the stage as rapper to explicate his mythology. He would be much appreciated by the dancers whose every move is about him, so get him out of slumber land and let him rap to us from the upper room. This will make his mythology real to us and expand the reality of his time in our midst and the lessons the narrator informs us about continuously throughout this didactic classical drama in the Yoruba tradition. 

    Earlier today, I wrote about How to Recognize A Real Nigga, Part Two, Notes on the Nigga Debate, during the intermission, Dr. Nzinga and I conversed and I told her I tried to delineate the positive nigga from the negative nigga. Her drama revealed to us that doing the right thing is the best and only thing to do, anything less has negative repercussions since every action has a reaction and Eshu will not allow us beyond the crossroads unless we put on the Protective Shield, i.e., the armor of God. Thankfully, the supplicants submitted to wear the Protective Shield, so the drama ends in the African fashion of Sheikh Anta Diop, who told us in the Cultural Unity of Africa, there is no tragedy, only comedy, for we know what Frankie Beverly sang about joy and pain, sunshine and rain, sometimes they the same.... Yet, to traverse the crossroads, we must be right, so in Islam we pray, "Ithdina s-sirata al mustaqim, Guide us on the right path. Dr. Ayodele Nzinga continues and extends Black Arts Movement theatre into the present era. We applaud her crew of actors, dancers and technicians.

    Protection Shields will rock your consciousness, especially if you are a white man dipped in chocolate as a young man described the Black Anglo Saxons (Dr. Hare) of today.
    --Marvin X
    9/23/18

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  • 09/25/18--02:50: Marvin X Notes 9/25/18


  • Gemini twins, Marvin and Sun Ra. How many people are in this picture? Marvin claims ten people travel and live with him. Sun Ra controlled his multiple personalities as band leader, visionary, prophet, philosopher. But it was his creations and productions in his concerts that sealed his imprint on the world, yes, as someone from another world. 


    Marvin X and his mentor/associate, BAMh Master Musician/Philosopher, father of Afro-Futurism Sun Ra, one of the most advanced minds produced by North American Africans. Marvin X performed with the Sun Ra Myth-Science Arkestra coast to coast. Sun Ra and Marvin taught together in the Black Studies Department, University of California, Berkeley. See Youtube for Sun Ra's lectures in four parts, audio. Marvin X's archives were acquired by the UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Marvin is also acknowledged in the Smithsonian African American Collection. As the Black Arts Movement is the father of Hip Hop, Marvin X was recently featured in the Respect Hip Hop Exhibit at the Oakland Museum of California. On December 15, 2018, Marvin X will read and speak on the Black Arts Movement as a key co-founder, along with Amiri Baraka, Askia Toure, Sonia Sanchez, Nikki Giovanni, Last Poets, Haki Madhubuti, et al. Marvin was also a recruiter for the Black Panther Party, e.g., Bobby Seale, Eldridge Cleaver, Emory Douglas, Samuel Napier, et al., and the Nation of Islam, especially "fishing" Nadar Ali who became Director of Imports. Also, Fahizah Alim who became a writer for Muhammad Speaks. Marvin X served as Foreign Editor of Muhammad Speaks during his exile in Mexico City and Belize, Central America.


     Actor Danny Clover and Marvin X spoke at San Francisco Anti-war Rally.
    photo Kamau Amen Ra


    Marvin X and Danny Glover, both were students and members of the BSU at SFSU. Danny also performed in Marvin's Black Arts West Theatre, Fillmore District, San Francisco, 1966.
    photo Ken Johnson


    Marvin X and Nuyorican poet, professor Nancy Mercado at the Harlem NY reception for Marvin X at the home of poet Rashida Ismaili. Marvin X was in town to celebrate the memorial for poets Amiri Baraka and Jayne Cortez at New York University, 2014.


    Marvin X conversing with his star student, Dr. Ayodele Nzinga (Laney College Theatre class taught by MX, 1981, as a student, Ayodele directed his poetic/dance drama In the Name of Love and starred in it as well. Years later they came together to co-direct his recovery classic One Day in the Life, a docudrama of Marvin X's recovery from Crack addiction, the longest running play in Northern California Black theatre history, 1996-2002, also performed in New York at the Brecht Forum in Manhattan, Sista's Place in Brooklyn and at Kimako's, Newark NJ.


     BAM co-founders Amiri Baraka and Marvin X enjoyed a 47 year friendship and artistic and revolutionary relationship, although divided by AB's Communism and Marvin's Islamic radicalism. But, "When I came to the Baraka's house, I was at home. Many times I exceeded the limit of propriety from alcohol, yes, even passing the Barakas, but they never put me out. He and his wife Amina were my comrades like no others in my life. We drank, partied, bar hoped and ate out almost every night, especially in AB's last days when Amina was not cooking. Our best meals were at the Spanish restaurant and bar near City Hall and the Portuguese restaurant in their district near the Penn Terminal, and the Soulfood venues where the Barakas were treated royally, alas, as if they were not treated royally wherever we went in Newark.

    Was there drama with my loving friends? What do you expect in the house of dramatists? My students and friends will tell you there is drama at my house on the west coast, ask those who've fled from my house when I left reality for outta space in the Sun Ra mode or beyond.Ask my students who endured what they described as "The Wild Crazy Ride of the Marvin X Experience."

    But, after spending some weeks with the Barakas, I came to know their dramatic ritual that their neighbors and friends knew well and knew how to ease their way out of the house when the drama began. Even so, I could not ease my way out since I was staying with them, except when I wanted to enjoy debauchery at the old Father Divine's Hotel where I could enjoy the Crack Hotel sisters as a single man.


    Marvin X as journalist interviewing Prime Minister Forbes Burnham of Guyana, SA, at his residence, while Marvin X was on a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship, 1972. His interview was published in Muhammad Speaks Newspaper, Black World and Black Scholar Magazines, critical journals of the 1960s Black Liberation Movement. PM Burnham had North American Africans in his government and gave us refuge, although PM Burnham was revealed as a CIA agent in the USA's attempt to prevent a Cuban style Communist regime to take power under the opposition leadership of Cheddi Jagan. Terrible things occurred under the Burnham pseudo Black Power regime, i.e., Dr. Walter Rodney, one of the greatest Pan African scholars was assassinated under his watch, not to mention the Jonestown massacre wherein 900 mostly desperate North American Africans escaped the USA for the jungle of Guyana, only to drink poisoned Kool Aid along with their children, in their hopeless and hapless attempt to escape USA oppression for some other world, anywhere but another day in the USA hellhole, yet Rev. Jim Jones was uJltimately overcome by his darkside. Yet he was so skilled he duped the entire leadership of Black San Franciscans (I won't name names unless you request, just know I said leadership). Blacks sold all their property and donated the money to Rev. Jim Jones jungle heaven that quickly turned into hell, no worse than the USA hell they escaped but consider the desperation of our people, alas, anywhere is better than here.

    In 2018, it is reported there are 5,000 North American Africans in Accra, Ghana. They are there forever, including one of my daughters. She reports her friends are living the good life, no jungle life. In fact, North American Africans are causing gentrification in Accra. So the choice is yours. Hell in America or perhaps love, peace and happiness somewhere else on this earth. The Qur'an says if we flee in the name of Allah we shall enjoy many places of escape and abundant resources." Don't buy the hype that the USA is the greatest place on earth. We are the owners of planet earth so we can enjoy peace, love and happiness anywhere on the earth. We only need to come with the right spirit and attitude, not with white supremacist notions of exploitation and domination in the imperialist, capitalist mode.

    For sure, it would do many of us to leave these United Snakes, but we need to know the Ancestor spirits are calling some of us home, yes, to return through the Door of No Return, and so we shall go because the Ancestor Spirits are calling us and we cannot refuse them. Those called must go. My daughter has passed back through The Door of No Return, and she is satisfied to be home again. I miss her but know as Gibran said, "Our children come through us but they are not us: we are the bow, they are the arrow!" So we must let them fly as the spirit takes them. They have our DNA and know they must extend it in the name of those whose shoulders we stand upon. We did not need to converse with them on this subject, it was in them when they came out of the womb. Even though we may have stood there in wonder as they eased from their mother's womb, it was not our child but the child of the gods and ancestors who shall not be placated until all of us do the right thang, here in the wilderness of North America, our Motherland or elsewhere, no matter where we must stand tall and represent the royal genius of our people.


    Marvin X and his mentor/associate Dr. Nathan Hare, father of Black and Ethnic Studies, first Chair of Black and Ethnic Studies at a major American university. The fight to establish Black and Ethnic Studies caused the longest and most violent (well, no one was killed as at Kent State), student strike in American academic history. On the 50th Anniversary of the SFSU Student strike, there have been attempts to downplay the role of Black Students who initiated the strike. Same fake narrative at Columbia University when Black students originated their strike.Fifty years later, whites still want to control the narrative with white supremacy domination. But let's be clear, without white students at SFSU, the strike would not have been successful. But don't promote a revisionist narrative that is was a white thang. It originated from the Negro Students Association that morphed into the Black Student Union. Give credit where credit is due. Did white students suffer sweat, blood and tears on the same level as the Black strike leaders. Did whites go to jail like the BSU strike leaders?

    We encourage you to attend the 50th Anniversary of the Black Student/Third World Strike, November 9, 2018. Those strike leaders, especially the Blacks, need to know you appreciate them and love them for the sacrifice they made to upturn White Supremacist academia that has slipped back into a neo-colonial mode as per Black and Ethnic Studies. See Cecil Brown's book Hey, Dude, What Happened to My Black Studies.


    BAM Master poet/playwright with his star student, Dr. Ayodele Nzinga, founder of the Lower Bottom Playaz, the only theatre group in the world to produce the entire cycle of plays by August Wilson. As a student in his Laney College Theatre Class, Ayo directed Marvin's In the Name of Love and performed in it as she did many years later for his recovery cult classic One Day in the Life, Recovery Theatre, San Francisco. This pic is from Ayo latest play, written, directed and produced by her at the Flight Deck Theatre, 1540 Broadway, downtown Oakland. Marvin is questioning her on Protection Shields, a drama utilizing Yoruba mythology. See Marvin's review below.

    Some erudite socalled Negro informed me that white folks cannot leave us alone because we are their reason for being, their existence or existential reality, is propositional upon their domination of African bodies, space, time and voice. No matter what we originate, contemplate, imagine, invent, Europeans must steal, like Jazz, Blues, spicy foode, philosophy, sociology, mythology,  psychology,
    religiosity, sexuality. Do white people (and their multi-cultural sycophants) understand what goes around comes around?

    I don't  want to be nowhere close to white people when what goes around comes around. Neither do I want to be around their African and multicultural elite, for the Bible tells those who worship the beast shall be destroyed with the beast, i.e., those neo-colonial elite, addicted to the white supremacy World of Make Believe and Conspicuous Consumption (Frazier, Hare, et al.).

    In the current American Drama of Pussy and Dick, complicated by the intersection of sexual improprieties of Western and global civilization, including African, Arab, Asian, Latin, thus a Pandemic of major proportion: for the physical and psychological abuse of men, women and children is full blown, thus severe,  and societies globally are trying their best to deal with the new sexual drama that demands men exercise discipline in their imaginary domination of women that must end. As the father of three strong daughters, I want only the very best for my daughters, and for sure I don't want men to corrupt, disrupt or block their aspirations to be the best they can be with their God-given talents. It is clear I and my children are the continuation of Ancestor Dreams so we shall not stop until victory! Power  to the Ancestors, Power to the People. In the Sankofa myth-ritual, we look back to look forward, never to stay in the past but to go forward faster!

    Now to the Main Topic: Who Asks the Negro or Stay Out of White Folks Bizness

    Firstly, nobody asks the Negro anything although he has been around since time began, literally, no one argues with this except those in the low information vibration. Let us pray and excuse the low vibration people although the Bible tells us the people were destroyed for lack of knowledge, so there is no excuse for ignorance today when you can Google Becky who will tell you the history of the world, and if you didn't ask her correctly, Becky will say, "Did you mean?" And you don't respect Becky, she will say, "Would you talk to your mother like that?"

    But Jimmy Baldwin wrote to us that Whites will ask a Negro things they will never ask a white person, simply or only because they know we tell the truth while their white brother is bound to lie with the movement of his lips. During my hustling days in San Francisco's rich shopping Area, from the Cable Car turnaround to Fisherman's Wharf, there might be a thousand white people lined up for the Cable Car ride, but if Whites wanted direction and information, they were willing to pay a Black hustler for information because they knew it was reliable. Whites knew not to bother their white brothers and sisters because they knew they would lie simply because they are pathological liars.

    So all Cable Car hustlers charged white tourists for information, selling  and decoding maps of the city.

    But even when you try to stay out of white folk's bizness, they will find a way into yours, if only to see how can you yet laugh after all the terror they deposited on your black asses. They have the bad habit of feeling free to interrupt any conversation between and/or among black people, no matter how many are engaged, because they were overwhelmed from ear-hustling and feel no way to interrupt our conversation,  to insert themselves whether invited or not. Is this not the supreme example of white privilege and white supremacist domination? And well-meaning whites have no knowledge of their low information vibration etiquette exposing their myth-ritual of white supremacist behavior.

    They taught us innocent until proven guilty, yet the Me Too Movement proclaims guilty by pronouncement and/or allegation, no facts needed. Imagine if Euro-American culture investigated North American African sexual violence, the jails and prisons would implode (as if the jails and prisons have not already imploded from said sexual and survival necessity) from brothers guilty of sexual improprieties  since sexual assault and violence over claims of ownership of females was a constant cause of personal and communal warfare, sometimes individual and more often gang related when brothers fought over women as if they were property of certain gangs based on territory, although most altercations as per sexual domination were individual, between men claiming ownership of that which was not theirs to own since the woman's body is ultimately owned by her and no one else under the sun, moon and/or stars! See my classic monograph Mythology of Pussy and Dick. Google it for free. Just know when my white agent for the sale of my archives to the University of California, Berkeley, Bancroft Library, Peter Howard (RIP), also owner of Serendipity Book Store in Berkeley, read Mythology of Pussy in one sitting ( and while reading told me to shut the fuck up), after his perusal informed my essay was not for Black people, as if to say it was above the low information vibration of my people. Well, Peter, we need only look at the nightly news to see the Mythology of Pussy (and Dick) is needed by everyone, no matter what class, color, ethnicity, religiosity, political persuasion and/or gender.

    What human beings on earth were more sexually violated than North American Africans during 400 years of full blown physical, sexual and mental trauma? Our genocide and mentacide is never placed against the Jewish holocaust of five or six years, compared with 400 years. There is no comparison possible, yet we applaud the Jews for having their own state. Who asks the so-called Negro if  he desires a state for the holocaust he's suffered? To speak of reparations is almost a joke, although the Jews were given some reparations for their holocaust, the Native Americans and the Japanese, but the North American African is derided for suggesting reparations, but we know when a wife and husband cannot live together in peace, the resolution is often divorce, with compensation for abuse and injuries, whether physical, emotional and/or verbal.

    Don't you think after a 400 year forced marriage, after it is clear North American Africans and European Americans live on two different planets, it is time to separate? We say we knell for police violence, you flip the narrative to the national anthem, what the fuck? Two worlds, one of the master, the other of the slave, the oppressed, and never shall we see the same world, not now, not in a thousand years. You go your way, I go mine, Arabic: lakum dinu kum waliya din!

    BAM Master Sun Ra taught, "You didn't let me enjoy your gladness so I don't want to share your sadness. History is your story, Mystery is my/our story. You so evil the devil don't even want you in hell!"
    --Marvin X
    9/24/18

    SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 2018


    Marvin X review of Dr. Ayodele Nizinga's Protective Shields at the Flight Theatre, 1540 Broadway, downtown Oakland

    Notes on Dr. Ayodele Nzinga's mytho-magical drama: Protection Shields
    by
    Marvin X






    Dr. Ayodele Nzinga, founder, producer, playwright and director of Oakland's Lower Bottom Playaz opened a new play at the Flight Deck, 1540 Broadway, downtown Oakland. It is a myth-ritual dance drama in the Black Arts Movement Theatre tradition, based on the Yoruba story telling in the best tradition of African didactic narrative, i.e., teaching a moral story based on ancient spirituality and morality, i.e., the myth of Eshu and the moral teaching of do the right thing. 

    In the 1960s, Black Arts Movement poets, playwrights, dancers, drummers, painters turned away from Christian mythology and ritual to embrace Islamic, Yoruba, Rasta and Hebrew myth-ritual. It was a conscious denunciation of European White supremacist Christianity that approved the genocide of 100 million, and even today, 2018, North American Africans suffer trauma and unresolved grief so well depicted in Protective Shields. 

    The Yoruba priest who probably influenced 1960s Black African culture the most, was Oba Serjiman Olatunji who spread Yoruba culture in Harlem, who single handedly presented Yoruba culture in its most flamboyant and royal manner. As a Harlemite during 1968-69, I recall Oba Serjiman parading through the streets of Harlem with his entourage of wives, priests and devotees in elegant flowing robes and head pieces, chanting Yoruba songs that helped ignite the Black Arts Movement of the 60s, the most radical artistic and literary revolution in American history, alas, it gave birth to the Black Panthers, Black Arts Movement, Black Studies, Ethnic Studies, Gender Studies, et al.

    Black Arts Movement co-founders,Amina and Amiri Baraka, were married in a Yoruba ceremony, officiated by Oba Serjiman, who soon departed Harlem to establish his  African Yoruba Village in Sheldon, South Carolina. According  to the new Oba/king, before his father could have peace with the whites in the area, he had to show superior magic in the manner of Moses and Pharaoh's magicians.

    Oba Serjiman, obviously influenced the Black Arts Movement, alas, he is perhaps the most critical factor in the BAM/Yoruba intersection. There was Nigerian drummer Oljunji reinstating the drum as spiritual therapy with rhythms for all the orishas, i.e., gods, for Harlemites and North American Africans coast to coast deprived of the healing power of the drum since arriving in the Americas, most especially in the USA, elsewhere the drum created new world beats in the old world manner, for orisha rhythms never change--an eternal tribute to the identity and power of the gods and their  connection with devotees, supplicants, sycophants.....

    A Black Mass was Amiri Baraka's interpretation and synchronization of Elijah Muhammad's Myth of Yakub, the mad scientist who created the white man through genetic engineering, but Baraka infused his myth drama with Yoruba and Sufi teachings. We applaud Baraka for utilizing original North American African mythology but extending the myth with African and Islamic myth-rituals. 

    BAM theatre folks like the New Lafayette's director Bob Macbeth, Barbara Ann Teer's National Black Theatre, the Last Poets and myself tried to create Black Ritual Theatre, with dramatic energy derived from Yoruba, Islamic and Christian myth-ritual, especially the Holy Ghost church. It had the high level of energy we wanted in the BAM theatre. Further, we wanted to destroy that fourth wall that separated the actors from audience, forcing them into oneness and celebration of the Divine Spirit. My contribution to Ritual Theatre is Resurrection of the Dead, a myth-ritual dance drama by Marvin X, Black Educational Theatre, San Francisco, 1972. In the African tradition of drama, there is no audience, all enjoy the communal experience. When I was told Vudun is a democratic society, I understood in  the Vudun ritual one only comes forward when their orisha's rhythm is beat on the drum. Correct me if I am wrong. 

    We cannot leave BAM Master Teacher Sun Ra out of this discussion since he fused Kemit mythology with socalled science fiction, although Sun Ra is considered the father of Afro-futurism, Octavia Butler, the Mother. But Sun Ra took Yoruba, Islamic, Christian and all other isms and schisms, including Jazz, Blues and any other sounds to construct his Myth-Ritual Arkestra, demonstrating the highest level of BAM aesthetics, philosophy, dramaturgy. No BAM artist approached Sun Ra's vision of smashing European art and white supremacy mythology. 

    In the grand tradition of African drama that originated in the Osirian drama of Resurrection, modeled on the annual inundation of the Hapi River, aka, Nile, Ayodele reveals to us the necessity of high morals and values as the ultimate Protective Shield. 

    If we cut to the chase in Ayo's drama at the crossroads ruled by Eshu, aka Legba, aka Ptah, aka Peter, Protection Schields taught us the only protection is to do the right thang, thus the long monologues by characters fighting within themselves to do the right thing. To borrow a line from Islam, we say, "Ithdina s-sirata al mustaqim, Guide us on the right path." The Christian Bible tells us to put on the armor of God. 

    Dr. Ayodele Nzinga forces us to transcend the Christian and Muslim myth-ritual, with repeated calls out to the Yoruba orishas, displaying Yoruba myth ritual of offering fruit to placate the orishas, without which one cannot possibly navigate the crossroads, not without Eshu in the persona of a child, yet wielding spiritual power to present the suffering adults with the Protective Shield, even the suspected murderer of the mother's son is given the Protective Shield but only after he declares the uselessness of murder or "blood for blood" as the narrator repeatedly informed us. 


    A mother wants revenge for the murder of her son. Having lost a son, we were beyond understanding of her trauma and unresolved grief. She was presented with a Protection Shield by Eshu represented by a child who adorned all the supplicants who submitted to do the right thing, some for the first time in their lives. Alas, my patron, Abdul Leroy James, used to say, "Most of you people (excluding himself since he was a successful multi-millionaire from real estate but he did make possible my book projects and community events such as the Melvin Black Forum, Oakland Auditorium, 1979, National Black Men's Conference, Oakland Auditorium, 1981, Kings and Queens of Black  Consciousness, San Francisco State University, 2001, Tenderloin Black Radical Book Fair, 2004, San Francisco, One Day in the Life, docudrama of Marvin X's addiction and recovery, the longest running North American African drama in Northern California history, 1996-2002)--Ancestor Abdul Leroy James said, "Most of us ain't done nothing right in our lives.". 

    Protection Shield's dominant theme was do the right thang! If you kill, the pain of revenge is inescapable, blood feuds for evermore, honor killings. All the supplicants submitted to do the right thang and were thus blessed to transcend the crossroads with the blessing of Eshu. 

    Throughout the drama, all the orishas were called upon to do their thang. Playwright, producer, director, Dr. Ayodole Nzinga consciously employed the Yoruba myth-ritual to rock 2018 Black Christian myth-ritual, although Africans in the Americas long ago figured out how to synchronize African spirituality with European Christian mythology. We fused Haitian  Vudun, Cuban and Puerto Rican Santaria, Barzilian Condomble and other Caribbean spiritual persuasions into a eclecticism of functional religiosity. We can attend a Catholic mass then visit a Vudun ceremony to placate the Orishas without feeling contradictory.

    The Yoruba narrative in Ayo's drama resembled Black American Christian ritual, or Christianity in general with its major theme of suffering and death, although the joy of resurrection derived from Kemet, Egypt, Africa's Nile Valley Civilization that extended the 4,000 miles of the Hapi River, aka Nile, source of  basic Christianity, Judaism and Islamic religiosity. See Yusef Ali's translation of the Holy Qur'an and his notes on the steps of Egyptian Religion toward Islam. 


    Dramatic Structure

    For sure, Dr. Ayodele transcended Western dramaturgy. Protection Shields was completely devoid of dialogue, instead a plethora of monologues was employed, many offstage, but even more pervasive was her use of choreography to advance the narrative. The Yoruba method of utilizing dance to advance narrative is well known, going back thousands of years. We know the dancers employed classic Yoruba choreography to tell the story, for every dance movement is connected with an Orisha,yet as much as we enjoyed the dancers whose choreography advanced the narrative, still, something was missing and sorely needed to make this myth-ritual dramatic. Dramatic film can move to stage and visa versa, but Protection Shields is the mytho-history of the hero Wolfhawk Jaguar, an individual experiencing a rite of passage and his devotees enjoying a healing communal rite of passage as well.

    We were not satisfied with the hero sleeping throughout the drama of his myth history. We see him on the second level, primarily asleep in a dream mode, but since he is also the rapper and high priest of this drama, he must be utilized beyond his dream state. After all we hear him and see him in constant movie clips buy why not allow him to take the stage as rapper to explicate his mythology. He would be much appreciated by the dancers whose every move is about him, so get him out of slumber land and let him rap to us from the upper room. This will make his mythology real to us and expand the reality of his time in our midst and the lessons the narrator informs us about continuously throughout this didactic classical drama in the Yoruba tradition.



    Earlier today, I wrote about How to Recognize A Real Nigga, Part Two, Notes on the Nigga Debate, during the intermission, Dr. Nzinga and I conversed and I told her I tried to delineate the positive nigga from the negative nigga. Her drama revealed to us that doing the right thing is the best and only thing to do, anything less has negative repercussions since every action has a reaction and Eshu will not allow us beyond the crossroads unless we put on the Protective Shield, i.e., the armor of God. Thankfully, the supplicants submitted to wear the Protective Shield, so the drama ends in the African fashion of Sheikh Anta Diop, who told us in the Cultural Unity of Africa, there is no tragedy, only comedy, for we know what Frankie Beverly sang about joy and pain, sunshine and rain, sometimes they the same.... Yet, to traverse the crossroads, we must be right, so in Islam we pray, "Ithdina s-sirata al mustaqim, Guide us on the right path. Dr. Ayodele Nzinga continues and extends Black Arts Movement theatre into the present era. We applaud her crew of actors, dancers and technicians.

    Protection Shields will rock your consciousness, especially if you are a white man dipped in chocolate as a young man described the Black Anglo Saxons (Dr. Hare) of today.
    --Marvin X
    9/23/18

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    Poet Marvin X/El Muhajir at Frank Ogawa/Oscar Grant Plaza, Oakland City Hall, Black Arts Movement Business District, co-founded by Marvin X, passed by the Oakland City Council, January 19, 2016
    photo Pendarvis Harshaw



    I can't believe in death
    I look at Mama and Daddy
    every day on my cell phone
    wallpaper

    I can't believe in death
    I think of my lovers gone to heaven
    I kiss them
    ask forgiveness for my sins
    in violation of their unconditional love for me

    I can't believe in death
    My son walked into a train
    yet he is here beside me on the Freedom Train
    I can't get over him telling me
    "Dad, I'm going to preach your funeral
    tell every secret thing about you."
    Yet I buried him
    buried him deep in my heart for a thousand forevers
    kiss him
    hug him for the 39 years I enjoyed him
    who walked like me
    talked like me
    laughed like me
    yet beyond me
    Gibran told us
    your children are not you
    they come through you
    like arrow released from bow

    I can't believe in death
    life is a moment at best
    cherish moments
    sweetness and bitter
    moments none the less
    life is a moment
    enjoy the moment
    before the moment of eternity arrives
    after tears
    wailing in the night early morn
    we adjust
    we heal
    we love
    not overnight
    closure is never never land
    we cannot close the heart of love with good-bye
    our beloved is not buried in earth with skin bones for worms butterflies
    as-salaam alaikum never will suffice
    no matter instant burials Muslim fashion
    long drawn out death rituals in our African tradition

    I can't believe in death
    Africans say
    only death
    to be forgotten
    let us never forget ancestors
    love them in our daily round
    call their names
    honor them praise them
    dance to them
    holy dance of joy happiness.
    for getting us to this moment
    after tears in the night
    we heal with cement of love
    flooding our empty spaces with flowers of love
    roses carnations gladiolus birds of paradise
    candles food for the departed who linger
    after all
    we stand upon their shoulders
    cannot walk on the right path
    without their guidance
    stay with us always
    focus us on understanding
    good times and bad
    yin and yang of life
    sunshine and rain
    joy and pain
    Frankie Beverly
    Ma'at.
    mizan
    feather on the scale
    Judgment Hall Kemit
    life and death indivisible
    eternal moment in the sun.
    No attachments but to Allah
    Eternal.
    men women come go
    wives husbands
    children
    Allah Eternal
    Yahya/John
    Life Giver.

    I can't believe in death
    elders then ancestors
    then birth of wonder children
    "Grandpa you can't save the world
    but I can," said Jahmeel to me at three
    mysterious genius children
    let Gibran's arrow fly
    let our children soar
    with ancient wisdom
    mixed with Afro futurism
    Sun Ra, Octavia Butler style
    We are from a world our children shall never know
    they are from a world we shall never know
    unless we connect with honor respect
    due elders
    What you know at 20
    you shall know better at 75.
    kick yourself for being a fool at 20
    you didn't know it all
    knew nothing really
    pretended you did
    faked the funk
    survived because the Lord was your Shepard
    He dressed you in the armor of His love
    Protection Shield saved you for sure death
    only after you submitted and crossed the road
    from hell to heaven/paradise
    wherein rivers flow and gardens of flagrant flowers
    jasmin
    myrrh frankincense burning filling our senses with goodness

    I can't believe in death
    If you don't know how to pick cotton
    elder teach you
    you teach those after you
    circle unbroken.
    I can't believe in death.

    --Marvin X
    10/1/18



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    According to the Holy Bible, the people were destroyed for lack of knowledge, not lack of money, knowledge. The Buddhists teach that wisdom is knowledge plus the Right Action, not any means necessary but the right means to solve the problem. Sun Ra taught us in the Black Arts Movement and throughout the world wherever he performed that the Creator got things fixed, he told me time after time, "Until you do the right thing, you can't go forward or backwards, you just stuck on stupid," and I added, "Yes, like Super Glue on your asses."

    The Black Woman is God! The entire human race came from her womb. Did humanity come from your womb, check to see if you have a womb, Mr. Black Man. A young woman said her man act like he have a cycle! I hate a weakass nigga, thinking he a player but getting played at every turn. If he don't know my pussy is mine, he don't know shit. Half them niggas in prison cause they think they own my pussy, especially when they pay they pussy bill on time. Somebody need to tell these niggas to pay they pussy bill on time, they babies need to eat, school clothes, bus fare, whatever.

    Whether you got money or not, educate me to Blackness and Spirituality. Tell me what books tovo read to save my life and your babies, Mr. Player, Hustler, Pimp, Dope Dealer, nothing ass nigga. Stand up and represent yourself above the animal plane. Give me knowledge of world history and the plan for now into the future.

    In many cases the brother cannot read so his woman/partner must read to him. Wake the nigga up from darkness of thinking he a player when he getting played.

    Girl said downtown ma man the baby momma, I'm the baby daddy. I leave him at home with the baby and I bounce.

    Young woman on the bus in San Francisco said to her girlfriend, "When he come home from prison, he on vacation. That nigga live in the prison house. He on vacation right now. Before long he going back home. He go fuck up and go home to his three hots and a cot.

    She continued, "I love the nigga but I'm trying to have a life. He need to get a life. I told him to teach me some things but he can't teach me shit if he don't know shit. Guess I gotta teach him."

    Don't Underestimate a Black goddess because of her hair. A young lady came to my Academy of da Corner, 14th and Broadway, wearing blond dread locks or weave, although in a beautiful hair design that people complemented her while she perused the books on my tables. In my White Supremacy Type II addiction to white supremacy, I dismissed her immediately because of her blond hair, no matter the African styling. But she smashed my world of self hatred or Type II addiction to white supremacy when she picked the baddest book on display, a collection of essays on Cheikh Anta Diop.
    I was so impressed she selected the deepest book on display that my mind shifted automatically to a loving vibration, suddenly her hair didn't matter but her mind overwhelmed me. I wanted to know more about her since the moment had transcended my initial dislike of black blonds, dread locks, weave, pressed, natural or whatever. I can end this discussion with the words of a young partner that made he write a poem called Dis Ma Hair. It was the last time I would care whether a woman was bald, natural, weave, wig, dread, whatever. Ain't ma business. Young girl taught me:

    Daddy,
    you can suck me fuck me
    wine me dine me
    dis ma hair
    I can weave it glue it
    sew it bleach it dye it blue, green, purple red
    dis ma hair....
    --marvin x, revised 10/2/18

    Back to give your woman conscious knowledge

    A young brother held me up for two hours at a fried fish cafe one night in Deep


    continued--------------------------------





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    No Prince Luther Michael
    no
    sing forever Prince Luther Michael
    sng
    Barry
    sing
    Bessie
    Billie
    Sarah
    sing
    wisdom songs
    for all the wicked nights
    broken love
    promises
    lies
    booty runs
    male/female
    sing to us song saviors
    keep us from killing lovers
    unfaithful
    and why did we truth loveless lovers
    hot for anything in the night
    bar hot girl ass shaking in red dress
    why did we forget the faith trust of promises in the night
    after we sucked fucked licked kissed all of our sacred parts
    yet the moment made sacred moments disappear into the night of carnal bless
    cling to me if you can
    knowing I am weak in the knees for any fine ass passing
    you cannot stop my wreakless eyes
    can I stop yours
    spying some hot dick in the club
    you tell me let you flirt at the bar
    then niggas following us bar to bar
    gotta pull my knife
    drunk nigga wants your ass
    let's go home now
    no more Long Island Ice Tea
    let's go home
    let me love you in all ways
    yes, you are one in ten and ten in one
    let me appreciate you as angel woman
    love goddess supreme

    Sing Prince Purple Rain love
    Sing Michael Remember the Time
    Sing Luther love songs supreme
    Sing Aretha Respect
    Sing.

    Prince sing
    Luther
    Michael
    Aretha
    sing!


    --Marvin X
    10/3/'18


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  • 10/07/18--22:28: I Am Marcus Garvey
  • I Am Marcus Garvey, A Monologue by Marvin X

     The Most Honorable Marcus Garvey


    Poet, Playwright Marvin X
    photo Kamau Amen Ra (RIP)


    I am Marcus Garvey, Jamaican born African man. The winds of Jamaica blew my soul, body
    spirit far and wide. I was a printer then took off to see the world, to unravel the riddles of the
    Black man, African man, trapped deep down in the belly of the beast called colonialism.
    I traveled the Americas, Costa Rica, Panamá, Honduras. I saw the suffering workers in these
    lands, studied their condition and determined to free them. I went to England where I met Duse
    Muhammad Ali, the Pan African who taught me One God, One Aim, One Destiny, Africa for the
    Africans, those at home and those abroad. I wrote in Ali’s Oriental Times and Review, so did
    Booker T. I wanted to meet Booker T so I went to the USA but Booker T. died before I could
    meet him. I was heartbroken not to meet the man who wrote Up From Slavery, who founded
    Tuskegee, who said do for self, you can accomplish what you will.


    I wanted to know what happened to the Black man’s land, how did it become the pleasure
    of Europeans, the richest continent in the world. I wanted to make the Black man independent
    standing tall in his own land, not under the boot of Europeans. Africa for the Africans, those at
    home and those abroad.

    Where is our flag? In my disgust at the white man’s song “Everybody
    got a flag cept a coon,” God blessed me with the Red, Black and Green, Red for blood of one
    hundred million, Black for all African people, Green for our Motherland. Fly the Red, Black and
    Green, let the ancestors know you know them, honor and respect them, the living and yet unborn.

    I am Marcus Garvey. Let our African legions march, let black nurses heal the wounds of our despair,
    let the African poets sing songs of freedom, let the colonialists dred the sound of our valiant voices
    singing in the winds of freedom, independence and joy.


    I am Marcus Garvey, let my newspaper The Negro World spread the truth of our Blackness,
    African pride and glory. We shall spread the words of freedom throughout the Pan African world,
    millions shall join the UNIA, United Negro Improvement Association, millions in the USA,
    Caribbean, Europe and the Motherland.


    No matter those who oppose us, the winds of time shall oppose them in their wickedness,
    sycophants of colonialism, yes, bootlickers who think they are smart but only outsmart themselves.
    Their idea of freedom is yet slavery for independence is the dream of every true man and woman.
    No man is free under the yoke of another. Yet some intellectual black fools hate the idea of true
    freedom. They set traps for me at every turn, in league with the FBI and other agencies around the
    world.


    The devil sent Negroes to sabotage my ships The Black Star Line. Black spies infiltrated our UNIA.
    The FBI began with their spies in my midst, along with  the jealous, envious Negroes who hated
    Blackness. We call them Black men with white hearts. Somebody said these Negroes are white men
    dipped in chocolate! In Spanish we call them coffee con leche!


    I am Marcus Garvey. What was the Harlem Renaissance without me? I published all the poets in my
    newspaper. It was the spirit of Blackness that made the Renaissance possible, not white patronage
    that made us exotic birds of paradise.


    I am Marcus Garvey. With the help of sell out Negroes, call ‘em niggas, the USA falsely charged me
    with mail fraud and jailed me, then deported me. I passed away in London, never visiting Africa.
    Yet today, the Red, Black and Green is the Universal African flag of liberation. Long live Black
    Nationalism, long live Pan Africanism. One God, One Aim, One Destiny. Africa for Africans, those
    at home and abroad. Up you mighty Race, you can accomplish what you will!
    Yes, look for me in the whirlwind, look for me in the storms, hurricanes, tsunamis, earthquakes in
    diverse places. Look for me in the eyes of our children who carry the torch of freedom in the morrow
    of their bones!

    --Marvin X
    10/7/18


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    John said we must free Ruchell  McGee! And I agree. I suggest when Kanye West meets with your President Trump tomorrow, he suggest giving a general amnesty to all incarcerated in American prisons. John was paroled in July, 2018. He's wearing an ankle monitor and getting adjusted to the cell phone. Marvin told him, "Just stop any five year old and they will tell you how to use it. Just be ready for them to call you stupid and dummy." When John tried to give a donation for a collection of Marvin's books, the poet refused to take the money.
    --Marvin X
    10/10/18




    ‘Soledad Brother’ John Clutchette granted parole – will California Gov. Jerry Brown reverse the decision?

    January 19, 2018



    John Clutchette in the 1980s

    An interview with law professor Angela A. Allen-Bell

    by Angola 3 News
    On Jan. 12, 2018, the California Board of Parole Hearings granted parole to an elderly inmate named John Clutchette. However, supporters of parole for Clutchette are concerned that California Gov. Jerry Brown will reverse the board’s decision and Clutchette will not be released.
    Supporters have a reason to be concerned. After all, this is exactly what happened in 2016 when Clutchette was similarly granted parole by the board, but Gov. Brown chose to reverse the board’s ruling.
    Legal scholar Angela A. Allen-Bell, a professor at Southern University Law Center, and students in her “Law and Minorities” class began researching Clutchette’s legal battle over a year ago. Following extensive research, they have concluded that “the law has been used to perpetuate an injustice in Mr. Clutchette’s case.”
    Why did Gov. Brown deny parole to 74-year-old John Clutchette? In our interview with Professor Bell, she refers to Brown’s written explanation for his 2016 parole reversal, where Brown cites the fact that in the early 1970s, Clutchette was one of a trio of inmates at California’s Soledad Prison, who became high profile co-defendants known as the “Soledad Brothers.”
    Since Clutchette was ultimately acquitted of all charges in the Soledad Brothers case, Professor Bell argues that it is problematic for Gov. Brown to use this as his reason for reversing the Parole Board. In our interview, Bell further contextualizes Brown’s reference to the Soledad Brothers and identifies other troubling aspects of the case.
    Professor Bell concludes with a call to action, urging readers to contact California Gov. Jerry Brown and express their support for the California Board of Parole Hearings Jan. 12, 2018, decision granting parole to John Clutchette.

    Professor Bell concludes with a call to action, urging readers to contact California Gov. Jerry Brown and express their support for the California Board of Parole Hearings Jan. 12, 2018, decision granting parole to John Clutchette.

    Angola 3 News: Can you tell us about the work you and your students have done researching the case of “Soledad Brother” John Clutchette?
    Angela A. Allen-Bell: In my “Law & Minorities” class, the law students explore the use of law both to perpetuate and eradicate racial injustice in the United States by exploring past and current legal, racial and social justice challenges involving minorities, indigenous peoples and others in vulnerable situations. Once such a challenge is identified, the students conduct investigative research. Restorative justice principles are then employed.
    A year ago, when we began our work on the case of Soledad Brother John Clutchette, we knew only that he was in custody and that he had some historical connection to the late George Jackson. The four law students who worked on this case sifted through volumes of dated Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) documents, numerous era-related court cases, news stories, books and interviews. They also conducted their own interviews.
    These collective efforts led us to conclude that the law has been used to perpetuate an injustice in Mr. Clutchette’s case. In conjunction with this conclusion and, as a restorative justice measure, we filed a complaint to the United Nations through its Special Procedures Division.
    A3N: Last week, on Jan. 12, 2018, the California Board of Parole Hearings granted parole to Mr. Clutchette, but before he is actually released on parole, this ruling will now have to be affirmed by California Gov. Jerry Brown. In the past, Gov. Brown has rejected parole for Mr. Clutchette. On what grounds did he make this decision?
    AB: On Nov. 4, 2016, California Gov. Edmund G. Brown Jr. reversed the 2016 California Board of Parole Hearings decision that had granted parole to John Clutchette. Gov. Brown reasoned:

    A photo of the Soledad Brothers, with John Clutchette on the left, was incorporated into this 1970 poster.
    “He [Clutchette] has told the Board many times that he was not and had never been a member of the Black Guerilla Family … Mr. Clutchette has been identified as a high-ranking and revered member of the gang since the 1970s and as recently as 2008.
    “Although he was acquitted of the murder of a correctional officer in 1970, he later admitted to fellow inmates that he had knocked the officer unconscious before George Jackson killed him. The pair, along with Fleeta Drumgo, became known as the ‘Soledad Brothers,’ and made national news when Mr. Jackson’s brother made a failed attempt to take the judge, a deputy district attorney, and jurors hostage …
    “While Mr. Clutchette acknowledged that he knew all of the individuals involved at the time and shared the same ‘political ideology,’ he steadfastly denies that he was ever in the [BGF] gang or that he was ever involved in ‘any violence or anything since I’ve been in prison.’ These statements are contradicted by ample evidence in the record …
    “While I appreciate that Mr. Clutchette has completed the stepdown program and has now been deemed an inactive gang member, I remain troubled by his version of events. His statements, and the evidence to the contrary, demonstrate that Mr. Clutchette has not acknowledged or come to terms with his key role in these historical events or the magnitude of his actions. …
    “I have considered the evidence in the record that is relevant to whether Mr. Clutchette is currently dangerous. When considered as a whole, I find the evidence shows that he currently poses an unreasonable danger to society if released from prison.”
    To appreciate our conclusions about this being an injustice and a human rights violation, Gov. Brown’s decision must be viewed within the larger context of this case.
    From all indicators, John Clutchette was a politically inactive citizen in 1966 when he was convicted of burglary. For that charge, he was supposed to have been released from prison in April 1970. However, instead of seeing freedom, he became a character entangled in a web of racial politics and social struggle on a forgotten page in a discarded history book.
    In the late 1960s and the early 1970s, the civil rights era was underway in the United States. Free citizens and inmates alike were demanding civil and human rights.
    At this moment in time, J. Edgar Hoover was leading the FBI. Through COINTELPRO, a clandestine intelligence program, Mr. Hoover sought to neutralize many activists, advocacy groups, dissident voices, artists and innocent citizens. His tactics were often unconstitutional and largely illegal.
    For over 47 long years, Mr. Hoover declared war on free expression, chilled speech, intimidated and bullied dissenters, meted out private punishments, invaded privacy rights and engaged in discriminatory law enforcement practices. The Black Panther Party (BPP) and the Black Guerilla Family (BGF) were two groups that Mr. Hoover had a particular disdain for. Mr. Hoover’s practices were successfully suppressed from the American public until 1975. The full extent of COINTELPRO harms have yet to be realized all these years removed.

    For over 47 long years, Mr. Hoover declared war on free expression, chilled speech, intimidated and bullied dissenters, meted out private punishments, invaded privacy rights and engaged in discriminatory law enforcement practices. The Black Panther Party (BPP) and the Black Guerilla Family (BGF) were two groups that Mr. Hoover had a particular disdain for.

    The late George Jackson is another prominent figure in Mr. Clutchette’s story. He was a successful organizer, an activist, the founder of the BGF, a member of the BPP and a respected prison intellectual. In 1970, he released “Soledad Brother,” a book that exposed prison conditions to a captive world audience.
    While this endeared legions of inmates and free people to him, this cemented his adversarial relationship with the prison staff and administration. His opposition extended beyond the prison gates. He was a target of Mr. Hoover’s COINTELPRO program.
    In the early 1970s, John Clutchette was incarcerated at California Correctional Training Facility at Soledad. He was housed in the “Y” wing on the tier with George Jackson. At the time, there were documented racial problems inside the facility, as well as allegations of excessive force and other abuses on the part of correctional officers.
    In this climate, three African American inmates were murdered by a white guard, African American inmate witnesses were not allowed to testify at trial and the officer was not prosecuted. Shortly thereafter, in January 1970, John Mills, a white prison guard was murdered in what some describe as an act of retaliation.
    George Jackson, John Clutchette and Fleeta Drumgo were accused of Officer Mills’ murder and subsequently indicted in February 1970. The trio became known as the “Soledad Brothers.” Mr. Clutchette was less than three months away from parole.
    Months later, in August 1970, heavily armed, 17-year-old Jonathan Jackson joined this cast of characters. Jonathan, George’s youngest brother, entered the Marin County Courthouse during a trial. Jonathan armed three prisoners before the group left with five hostages, which included the judge and district attorney.
    In an effort to stop the escape, officers killed Jonathan, the judge and two of the prisoners. A year later, in August 1971, George was killed by San Quentin prison guards, leaving his associates, however distant, to pay for his sins, both real and imagined.
    From all appearances, officials deemed the Soledad Brothers guilty on the day they were arrested and viewed the surrounding legal process as a mere formality – something akin to a pit stop on the way to their final destination toward literal or figurative death in prison. Fate would write another ending for John Clutchette. In February 1972, John Clutchette was acquitted by the all-white jury that presided over his case. He further defied odds when he was granted parole on Nov. 13, 1972.
    Significantly, none of the “Soledad Brothers” were found guilty of the murder of Officer Mills. Also noteworthy is the fact that John Clutchette was not charged or convicted in the 1970 Marin County Courthouse matter that was onset by Jonathan Jackson nor was he charged or convicted in the 1971 Adjustment Center incident that resulted in the death of George Jackson.
    John Clutchette remained a free man from 1972 until 1980 when he was placed in custody to stand trial for the murder of Robert Bowles. Mr. Bowles’ lifeless body was found in a parked car with two gunshot wounds to the head.
    Mr. Clutchette, then a substance abuser and a party to illicit drug operations, testified only to participating in the cover up of the murder. Despite his testimony, he was convicted of first degree murder. An indeterminate sentence of seven years to life was imposed. Two additional years were added for use of a weapon.
    Mr. Clutchette presently speaks of this crime with great remorse and sorrow. His moral convictions led him to pen a heartfelt letter to the Bowles family. In that letter, he expressed:
    “I … extend[] my deepest apologies and sincere regrets to the entire Bowles family for the devastating and irreparable harm that I have caused with my callous disregard for Robert’s life … I’ll forever live with the shame of my actions … It did not happen overnight …
    “I am taking full advantage of the rehabilitative process; in my long journey of self-discovery, I have matured and learned to use my care and concern when I know that my actions have the potential to affect the lives of my fellow man, woman and community … I am on my perpetual road of atonement.”
    A3N: Do you know how Gov. Brown arrived at the conclusions that led him to reject the Parole Board’s decision granting Mr. Clutchette parole in 2016?
    AB: His written reasons suggest he used subjective, unvetted, unreliable information and inaccuracies from John Clutchette’s prison file. This includes statements from prison snitches, memoranda from confidential sources, statements from prison staff and the like.
    Many of the documents are self-serving. Others are little more than speculation. They are not the product of any vetting or credible or fact-finding process; yet they have been given the veracity of such.
    This is more than speculation. In 1997, the appellate court made such a fact-finding: “We agree that Clutchette’s file contains false information. He produced uncontroverted declarations which provide that he was neither involved in nor prosecuted in connection with [the 1971] San Quentin Adjustment Center takeover attempt.”
    This same court urged California officials to correct Mr. Clutchette’s records, stating that: “[T]his false information suggests that Clutchette was involved in a serious breach of institutional security and implicates him in the death of inmates and correctional officers. Because of the seriousness of this implication, the Department voluntarily should expunge the false information from Clutchette’s file. Removing the false information from Clutchette’s file might avoid litigation each time Clutchette is considered for parole in the future.”

    In 1997, the appellate court made this fact-finding: “We agree that Clutchette’s file contains false information. … [T]he Department voluntarily should expunge the false information from Clutchette’s file. Removing the false information from Clutchette’s file might avoid litigation each time Clutchette is considered for parole in the future.” Unfortunately, California officials undertook no such action, leaving the inaccuracies in place to fulfill the court’s prophecy about the potential for harm this false information could cause.

    California’s standards governing eligibility of Parole Board commissioners are high. The individuals who make parole decisions must have a broad background in criminal justice and experience or education in the fields of corrections, sociology, law, law enforcement, medicine, mental health or education. Additionally, they must fulfill rigorous, annual training requirements. Such a highly distinguished board thoroughly reviewed Mr. Clutchette’s prison record and determined some of the salacious contents not worthy of their use.
    Moreover, a 2007 appellate court deemed much of the content “historically interesting but otherwise irrelevant” for purposes of parole eligibility. In his 2016 reversal of parole, the governor imprudently relied upon these contested contents in Mr. Clutchette’s prison file. In so doing, he completely ignored the wisdom of the board that he appointed, a board that spent considerable time examining the records in this case, and the guidance of the judicial system and rendered a decision that defies logic.
    Mr. Clutchette has paid for his past crimes. He is not a public threat. This is evidenced by the California Board of Parole Hearings granting him parole in 2003, 2015, 2016 and again on Jan. 12, 2018. Because of pending, parole-related litigation, Mr. Clutchette postponed at least seven parole suitability hearings, resulting in even more time in custody. He has been eligible for parole since 1988.
    The governor is wrong for his: 1) reliance on the false and unreliable information in Mr. Clutchette’s prison records; and, 2) display of an animus to, through the parole process, “sentence” or punish Mr. Clutchette for the 1970s Soledad murder that he was acquitted of, the 1970 Marin County Incident with which he was never charged and the 1971 Adjustment Center Incident with which he was never charged.
    Tragically, the governor’s decision to disregard the legal dictate that his actions be guided by some evidence of current dangerousness has come at the expense of an elderly man who is afflicted with a host of health problems. Worse, without intervention, Mr. Clutchette will never be able to establish his suitability for parole because these flawed records will always serve as a bar to his freedom – or can be used as such. Such decision-making is in conflict with California law, as well as human rights tenants.
    A3N: What’s the official status of John Clutchette’s case at this moment?
    AB: In addition to the pending human rights complaint, Mr. Clutchette has formally brought his challenges to the court (in the form of a petition for a writ of habeas corpus filed by his incredibly talented attorney Keith Wattley).
    In December 2017, the attorney general (AG), in defense of the governor, filed a request to keep the records the governor used under seal. In support of this request, the AG argued: “Disclosure [of the documents the governor used to support his decision that John Clutchette is unsuitable for parole] would reveal the identity of the confidential informants from whom the confidential information was obtained and would release information that poses a threat to institutional security.”
    These records have been openly considered and discussed by the various parole boards over the years. In each of those instances, the respective boards deemed many of these records unreliable and consistently felt they did not amount to a showing of present dangerousness.

    Mr. Clutchette has paid for his past crimes. He is not a public threat. This is evidenced by the California Board of Parole Hearings granting him parole in 2003, 2015, 2016 and again on Jan. 12, 2018. In each of those instances, the respective boards deemed many of the records in his file unreliable and consistently felt they did not amount to a showing of present dangerousness.

    In concert with all of this, Mr. Clutchette appeared before the parole board again on Jan. 12, 2018. He was once again granted parole. However, Mr. Clutchette will not actually be released on parole without Gov. Brown’s formal approval.
    A3N: How can our readers best help his effort to finally be paroled?
    AB: Brother Clutchette is approaching 75 years of age. He has lost too many years to this injustice. Readers have to become his voice at this critical time. They must create a theatre of agitation that makes elected officials uncomfortable abusing power and partaking in racial or social injustices. Officials need to know that political accountability will await them for doing so.
    Readers must make John Clutchette’s story a topic of robust discussion. Most importantly, they must speak their immediate opposition to Gov. Brown. Supporters can mail a written letter, send a fax, make a phone call, and/or send an email to his office.
    Be sure to include his prisoner ID number: C-23857.

    Contact information for Gov. Brown, suggested talking points and sample letter

    Contact Gov. Edmund G. Brown Jr., State Capitol, Suite 1173, Sacramento, California 95814, phone 916-445-2841, fax 916-558-3160, office email (click here), link to email submission page: https://govapps.gov.ca.gov/gov39mail/
    Gov. Brown,

    John Clutchette with his late wife in the 1990s
    Elderly inmate John Clutchette (C-23857) was again granted parole on Jan. 12, 2018. I urge you not to oppose his release.
    In February 1972, John Clutchette was acquitted by the jury who heard and evaluated the evidence against him for the murder of Officer John Mills. In November 1972, he was granted parole. I remind you that none of the “Soledad Brothers” were found guilty of the murder of Officer Mills.
    Also noteworthy is the fact that John Clutchette was not charged or convicted in the 1970 Marin County Courthouse matter that was onset by Jonathan Jackson, nor was he charged or convicted in the 1971 Adjustment Center incident that resulted in the death of George Jackson.
    Despite this, your reasons for opposing his release appear to involve your desire to punish Mr. Clutchette for these things, extrajudicially. If so, this is an abuse of your powers and it is a violation of California law and of human rights principles.
    Mr. Clutchette has fulfilled the 1980 sentence that was imposed in conjunction with the Robert Bowles case. The judicial system did not impose any other sentences upon him. Please respect that.
    As determined by your very capable Parole Board on multiple occasions, he is not a present danger and the record, when contextually considered, does not hold “some evidence” of current dangerousness. Please respect this too. I thank you for your attention to this request.
    Angola 3 News is a project of the International Coalition to Free the Angola 3. At our website, www.angola3news.com, we provide the latest news about the Angola 3. Additionally, we create our own media projects, which spotlight the issues central to the story of the Angola 3, like racism, repression, prisons, human rights, solitary confinement as torture and more.


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  • 10/11/18--23:38: Notes final draft 10/12/18






  • Vol. I, Rough Draft
    Notes of Artistic Freedom Fighter Marvin X 10/11/18
    Contents
    Introduction by Dr. Nathan Hare, PhD., Sociology, PhD., Clinical Psychology
    Note #1 The wild crazy ride of the Marvin X Experience
    #2 Review of Protection Shields, A Mythic/Magical Drama in the Yoruba Tradition by Dr. Ayodele Nzinga
    #3 Defining Mental Health in America
    #4 Hip Hop DJ Davey D’s Manhood Training
    #5 Aretha, Angela, Marvin X and the White Farmer
    #6 In Honor of the National Prison Strike, 2018: Prison Lyrics of Marvin X, 1970
    #7 In Memoriam: Khalid Abdullah Tariq Al Mansour
    #8 Black August Conference on Incarceration, Oakland CA, 2018
    #9 Kidnapped,Deported, Incarcerated
    #10 Politics of Sports
    #11 Confession of Ex-basketball Player
    #12 Dr. Nathan Hare’s Fictive Theory
    #13 A Day in the Life at Academy of Da Corner #1, 14th and Broadway, Downtown Oakland
    #14 Bar-B-Q Becky and Black Revolution at Oakland’s Lake Merritt
    #15 Harvey Weinstein and the Mythology of Pussy and Dick
    #16 Is Harvey Everyman?
    #17 Is President Donald Trump the Devil in the Book of Job, a fool or damn fool?
    #18 Dear White Folks
    #19 Racism in America: the Grand Denial
    #20 Imagine a Black  Nation!
    #21 Black Nationalism, Flower Children and the Summer of Love
    #22 Transcend the Low Information Vibration
    #23 Talk at San Francisco State University, Davey D’s Hip Hop Class
    #24 Talk with students at University of California, Merced, Dr. Kim McMillan’s Radical Theatre Class
    #25 UC Merced, continued
    #26 Revolution Against Fear
    #27 Transcending Romanticism/Idealism
    #28 Left/Right Paradigm
    #29 Big Man Howard Memorial
    #30 Review Black Panther Wakanda
    #31 Revolutionary Black Porn?
    #32 Don't nobody care about Donald Trump and his ho's
    #33 Men who love ho's and multiple wives
    #34 Dear Parents
    #35 BAMBD Billion Dollar Trust
    How it will be allocated
    #36 United Front
    #37 Hustlers guide
    #38 Cross and Lynching Tree, Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
    #39 Shakespeare and Chauncey Bailey
    #40 I am Marcus Garvey
    #41 Black Student Revolution at San Francisco State University
    #42 Prez Obama fake speech to Muslims
    #43 A fictional speech: Prez Obama on Afghanistan
    #44 Amiri Baraka's  Jazz Opera Sisyphus Syndrome
    #45 Denzel Washington film Fences
    #46 Oakland Symphony Orchestra honors 50th Anniversary of the Black Panther Party
    #47 Visioning the BAMBD: Talk with Architect Fred Smith
    #48 BAMBD Meets with Carmel Developers; letter to Carmel
    #49 Symbiosis of Poet and Politicians
    #50 Marvin X Driving Miss Libby
    #51 Parable of Woman on Cell Phone

    # 52 Love letter to gay and lesbian youth


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    SATURDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2018

    Marvin X new poem: The Moment between light and darkness

    Marvin X reading with his Black Arts Movement Poets Choir and Arkestra, featuring David Murray, Tacuma King and Val, et al. Malcolm X Jazz/Art Festival, Oakland, 2015
    photos by photographers Kamau Amen Ra (RIP), Adam Turner and Gene Hazzard

    As I am half blind in the fourth quarter of my life
    I notice as I travel from light into darkness
    micro second of total darkness
    I do not try to see in this space
    just adjust 
    light into darkness
    then I see darkness
    thankful
    navigate darkness 
    Dr. Nathan Hare say I have seen enough
    flow wit da flow
    one day at a time
    Dr. Hare say praise Sankofa bird
    just don't stay in past
    otherworldism
    forward motion
    Afrofuturism
    Sun Ra style 
    Space is the Place
    Your world is not my world
    your world is history
    my world is mystery
    Space is the Pace
    You so evil
    devil don't want you in hell!
    Sonny say
    What you doing negro
    Sonny say
    Negro say I ain't doin' nothin'
    Sonny say you wanna job Negro
    Negro say doin what?
    Sonny say doin' nothin!
    Negro say how much you gonna pay me?
    Sonny say
     I ain't gonna pay ya nothin!


    I am thankful to see  light in darkness
    Oh, world,  forgivne my sins
    I try to forgive world for low information vibration
    Bible say people destroyed for lack of knowledge not money women men children
    What Qur'an say
    If your wealth wives children
    are dearer to you than Allah
    then wait til His command comes
    Be ye not of the unjust unmerciful
    be of those who praise Him
    and He hears those who praise Him
    Rabbanaka al Hamb
    Oh, Lord, to Thee is due all praise!
     
    In the low information vibration we are
    anesthetized to the world of make believe conspicuous consumption
    my favorite line from Dr. E. Franklin Frazier's Black Bourgeoisie

    Today is Askia Toure's b day
    When he apologized to students at UC Merced for leaving them this unfinished legacy of uncompleted revolution
    I objected because I know our revolution was aborted by the overwhelming power of the State
    military intelligence cointelpro fbi snitches agent provocateurs
    how could we overcome the awesome power of the state apparatus?
    Afterall, we were young and invincible thinking we knew it all
    refusing the wisdom of elders and ancestors
    in our ignut joy to reinvent the wheel
    so we did stupid shit
    sex drugs and rock n roll can make revolution but not complete it
    Dr. John Henry Clarke said only high morals will save us
    Sun Ra said only discipline
    Teach discipline to your actors Marvin X
    forget that freedom justice equality talk
    don't you see how wild and crazy they act?
    Teach discipline
    This is what I teach my Arkestra
    Sonny was right
    look at our freedom babies
    wild crazy savage
    no discipline
    no manners
    no etiquette
    common sense
    from Crack hand to cell phone hand
    addicted like the man/woman Crack addicts
    they/we used to run through the hood with Crack in hand
    Cell phone junkies walk into the streets into cars with cell phone in hand
    killing themselves
    talking loud saying nothing (James Brown)
    JB said, "If it was left up to me I would cut yo hand off
    talkin loud sayin nothin
    talkin black but livin all the negro you can!
    We love you JB
    You taught us the Big Payback is a motherfucka
    I'm Black n Proud
    It's a man's world
    but ain't nothin without a woman

    there is darkness in the world and there is light
    between the two think about the good times
    enjoy the good times
    when bad times come
    roll wit da punches
    sister in law told me

    smiling faces tell lies
    fake news
    fake blues
    fake jazz
    blue eyed blues singer was you in the cotton cane Earle Davis asked
    cotton/cane fields from can't see ta can't see?
    was you on the lynching tree
    was you in the big house
    or house nigga
    master came to yo hut
    you thought to fuck yo woman
    no
    master came to fuck you
    Mandingo ass nigga
    Did master fuck you
    fusion jazz ass motherfucka
    fk yo woman children
    his children too
    then sold them New Year's Day Auction block
    blues jazz white boy/girl
    did jim crow suck yo blood
    did yo ancestors eat food in the shit hole door of no return
    before Middle Passage through Door of No Return
    Did you go there
    hear the ancestors wailing in the walls
    crying through centuries of pain trauma genocide
    400 years without a food stamp
    400 years capital accumulation
    400 years building white wealth
    yes reparations yes
    reparations til Fort Knox is drained
    Drain Federal Reserve
    drain white privilege wealth
    depart ghetto gentrifiers
    depart
    fuck yo high tech jobs
    fuck yo hipster fake ofay bullshit
    depart with dogs in hand
    clean dog shit and yo shit
    depart
    leave yo keys
    South Africa style
    leave yo keys
    flee to Australia Russia flee
    space moon mars saturn
    leave keys
    no earth lessons learned
    go
    leave yo keys
    white man heaven black man's hell
    white man heaven black man's hell
    Farrakhan sing

    how you sing blues jazz
    how you sing anything
    where Beatles steal
    Elvis
    Rolling Stones steal
    we love everything about you but you
    Poet Paradise say
    truly
    we love Dolly Parton's coal miner blues
    South told me ova n ova poor white trash treated worse than niggas
    so we love you trailer house trash white folks
    only you can sing the blues
    you understand jazz, i.e., black classical music
    not Martin Luther King, Jr.'s pseudo white liberals
    multi-cultural leave niggas on bottom motherfuckas
    Farrakhan say wherever he went over the world
    black man woman on bottom
    Communist Socialist Capitalist Muslim Christian Jewish
    black man woman on bottom
    ancestors say
    bottom rail top
    bottom rail top
    JB say the Big Payback is a mother....

    poor white man ask me fa a dollar
    I said white man would you rather have $500.00 or one dollar?
    White man said $500.00
    I said, "White man, come back tomorrow faya $500.00
    he walked away in silence.
    In the moment between light and darkness be still
    peace be still.
    the storm is ova now
    the storm is ova
    we rejoice
    motion in ocean
    Amiri Baraka said
    In the middle of the Atlantic ocean
    a railroad of human bones
    the king sold the farmer to the ghost
    in the middle of the Atlantic ocean
    railroad of human bones
    king sold farmer to the ghost
    king sold farmer to the ghost......

    rise up North American Africans
    rise from low information vibration
    no excuse with cell phone
    Becky tell you everything
    Becky don't lie
    Did you mean?
    Did you mean?
    rise from tricycle to ten speed
    rise
    In the middle of the Atlantic ocean
    railroad of human bones
    Amiri Baraka say
    don't let them take yo um boom ba boon
    if they take yo um boom ba boom
    you in deep trouble
    take you centuries to get out....
    We love you Ancestor AB.
    We love Amina too.
    We love Baraka family.

    --Marvin X
    10/13/18



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    Today, Sunday, October 14, 2018

     The Honorable Wilfred T. Ussery celebrated his 90th b day at Oakland's Geoffrey's Inner Circle


    The Bay Area's Black renaissance man, Wilfred T. Ussery, was honored on his 90th birthday at Geoffery's Inner Circle, chief venue in Oakland's Black Arts Movement Business District along the 14th corridor, downtown. In his remarks, he said it was the first birthday celebration he remembers. Celebrants included his wife, Maxine, son, Wilfred, Jr., Paul Cobb, publisher of the Oakland Post, and his wife, Gay; Dezzie Woods Jones, founder of BAWOPA, Black women organized for political action; retired judge Horace Wheatly, Bill T. Jones and his wife Belva Davis, black media diva; Charlie Walker, businessman and godfather of Hunters Point, SF; Rt. Air force Col. Conway B. Jones, Civil Rights activist,Norman Brown, poet-activist Marvin X, et al.

    Ussery was trained as an architect but as social activist combined his skills to become the leader of CORE, Congress of Racial Equality, San Francisco Anti-Poverty Program; organizer and designer of Oakland's Acorn housing projects, member of the Bay Area Rapid Transit BART.

    Will was a key organizer of two early 60s Black Power Conferences in San Francisco and Los Angeles.



    We are honored to have known Wilfred T. Ussery since the 1960s. The consensus of speakers praised his forward thinking. In his remarks, he said he still has many projects in mind but is scaling down, although he recently presented the BART Board with a 150 page proposal and has drafted a 15 page proposal for The Black Agenda in the Age of Trump, basically a do-for-self agenda.

    The event was documented by three of the Bay Area's master Black photographers: Ken Johnson, Adam Turner and Gene Hazzard.. Photos to follow.
    --Marvin X
    10/14/18

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    Maestro Marvin X and the Black Arts Movement Poets Choir and Arkestra, Malcolm X Jazz/Art Festival, Oakland, 2015
    photo collage Adam Turner

    A REAL NIGGA AIN'T EATIN' GREENS WITHOUT CORNBREAD

    I don't care bout these new age niggas
    vegan niggas
    die like hog eatin' niggas
    different diseases
    death is death
    he was vegan
    yogi rasta kemite vodun
    cancer got his ass too
    stroke
    high blood pressure
    didn't want white man's meds
    herbal tea death
    Back to Eden didn't help
    Baraka say you read white man's Back to Eden
    won't study Marxism Leninism
    fuck all isms schisms
    my student say Beligion
    just be
    real
    no fake ass nigga pseudo spiritual rat
    vegan rat still rat

    Beligion be real
    Go with the Kemit Negative Confession


    I want cornbread wit ma collard greens
    rice is nice
    rice ain't cornbread
    I'm a rice nigga
    Daddy from Kentucky rice land
    never ain't no grits in my house
    rice fa breakfast rice fa dinner
    nigga friends called me
    rice eatin Chinaman nigga

    Kale is nice
    Spinach too
    flavored spicy
    not like Mama's Spinach
    I threw under table
    no spice plain Cali girl food
    no Louisiana Texas style
    Mama born in Cali
    South for me was from Oakland to Central Valley Fresno

    love spinach now
    spicy
    Cayenne
    Tumeric
    Oregano
    Garlic onions
    Used to love Granny's greens
    Oklahoma Arkansas greens
    loved to devour cornbread sopped in pot liquor
    Begged Granny let me sop cornbread in pot liquor
    don't sop all dat pot liquor boy
    Loved Granny's hands
    Granny had that one book in her trunk I read every time we came to Granny's house
    Up from Slavery Booker T
    First Black book I read again again at Granny's house
    Granny told me stop progin (probin') through her stuff
    I proged that trunk til I found Up from Slavery

    Today these kids don't know or care about Granny's and Grandpa's hands
    feel sorry for 'em
    computer addicts
    drunk on white supremacy computer
    murder games
    grown nigga think they NBA coaches
    woman said she hit her hip hop man in head with remote control
    loved games not her
    kicked her in stomach
    don't interrupt his games
    she left him playing his computer games night and day when off work
    security guard

    But cornbread
    cold water cornbread
    African style less grease
    collard greens ready now
    no matter that weak ass Kale
    Collard greens thick like meat
    smoked turkey no pork
    Wife played game on me
    said she bought ham
    ready to beat her ass
    til she showed me it was turkey ham
    spared her ass beating
    in my nigga insanity
    negrocities (Amiri Baraka term, he told me don't steal his words, give him credit. Elliott Bey asked Baraka why Marvin X don't write about him? Baraka say cause Marvin know I will write about his ass! Love you AB, a brother like no other. AB hep a nigga. )

    I expanded his definition Negrocities: inflammation of the Negroid gland at the base of the brain
    causing a disruption of normal cognitive function due to
    toxic substances in the synapse preventing  messages from one cell to the next
    brain dead cell phone addict zombi don't know it's time to eat
    wash yo ass
    make love to your woman
    love your children
    Child abuse is don't call your children
    but reconciliation is possible
    not easy but not impossible
    hard work but possible.

    I want cornbread in my greens.
    I hate that Jiffy shit
    but Jiffy do when all else fails
    Ain't nothin' like real cornbread
    Southern style
    melt in mouth
    make a nigga shout Jesus! Allah Jah Jehovah Marx Lenin
    --Marvin X
    10/14/18




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    How many poems must I write about Hammond B3 and Me?

    There is no me without Hammond B3
    7th Street sacred music
    For me anyway
    Don’t care bout nobody else
    B3 stole my  soul
    No matter jazz blues gospel rock n roll
    B3 my  West Oakland chil
    dhood
    West Oakland Blues B3
    For me
    West Oakland Jazz
    B3 for me
    Restaurant B3
    Pool Hall Juke Box B3
    Barber shop
    Shoeshine stand B3

    but I never heard Lower Bottom name for Pine Street
    Everybody knew Pine Street was end on 7th Street
    End of West Oakland
    End of Amtrack Train line, 16th Street Station,
    Ho’ Stroll too
    Ho Hotel by hour
    Cross from Amtrack Station
    Pine Street Ho' stroll
    after Pine was Army Base, Navy Supply Center
    Used to sell Jet Ebony Magazines up and down 7th
    Past John Singers
    Pullman Porters Union Hall upstairs
    Past the Barn eatery
    Easter's Orbit Room
    Way past Slim Jenkins Club
    Josephine Baker was there for months/years it seemed
    parents talked of Josephine Josephine
    I could only see her pic outside Slim Jenkins Restaurant
    Used to see ad for Earl Father Hines too
    wondered who he was
    nobody told me how great he was
    but parents praised Josephine Baker
    I loved her before I knew her
    West Oakland
    Harlem of West Ceoast
    Lived 7th and Campbell
    Across street Lincoln Theatre
    Mr. Freeman managed
    black films advertised
    scared to see black films
    childhood white supremacy mind dead
    wondered in my ignut negro mind
    what these f'ilms bout
    ain't tarzan jane
    ain't Lone Ranger Tonto
    I wanna see white man kill Indians
    didn't know I was part Native American
    Granny from Oklahoma Territory
    Granny wasn't religious
    She was spiritual
    told me and my brother don't shoot birds on Sunday with beebee gun
    Granny used to feed anyone white black stop at her door in projects
    say they hungry
    spiritual not religious
    didn't go to church spiritual
    told my brother boy you go end up in pen
    Granny right
    brother spent whole life in pen
    deprived me of older brother love
    til his last days
    lived round corner from me
    Lake Merritt
    got to know him a little in last days
    we put his remains in Lake Merritt
    Put mine there too with my brother
    A real nigga
    just don't cross him
    then you got a problem
    killer man loan shark killer
    shot his boss in back of head
    boss owed him money wouldn't pay
    love my brother
    he was better human being than I until crossed
    before he joined ancestors
    he was family ATM
    after no more drinking gambling poker except on internet
    in the end he was brother I always wanted him to be
    In the end I think he appreciated me
    even if he didn't understand me
    and who understands me
    I don't even understand myself
    Like everybody he tolerated me though overwhelmed
    around the corner from me
    but I gave him his space
    private cell
    wanted him to be at peace with himself
    no stress from me
    family stress took him down into the dungeon for the last time
    came to Oakland from Seattle
    picked him up at bus station
    told him I wanted to show him love
    said he didn't know love
    wanted to live in SRO hotel
    I said no brother
    ain't dropping you at SRO hotel
    I took him home with me til he found a place with his Section 8
    God blessed me and him to live around the corner from each other in his last days
    up from Lake Merritt
    did it matter
    we never walked the lake together
    did it matter
    I never went over his apartment to watch games on TV
    never went over for small talk
    I don't know small talk with men or women
    I know he liked privacy as I do
    He almost never came to my apartment around the corner
    I didn't trip
    I honored him as older brother even though only one year older
    It was enough joy when he came to 14th and Broadway
    to get his medicine cigarettes
    he would come sit at my Academy of da Corner
    He saw black people bring donations
    he thought I was loan shark
    but I gave credit for books
    he saw people pay me
    I never kept tabs like loan sharks
    he was amazed at the beauty of black people
    most of us don't know the royal beauty of black people
    no matter our negrocities
    black royalty
    kings queens
    gods goddesses
    parading in persona of rut gut niggas
    still royal pushing shopping cart love
    rut gut wine love
    bipolar love lasting longer than black bourgeoisie fake love
    golden handcuff love
    kick my ass but I'm staying love
    too many perks love

    In the end
    cancer too him out
    Told us to burn him
    put ashes in lake
    we did

    put me there too with my brother
    don't care bout Northern Cradle versus Southern Cradle burial customs
    throw my ashes in lake with my brother I came to love in our last days
    thankful I got to love his brotherly love
    if only for a moment
    no matter
    life is a moment
    nothing lasts forever
    At least I didn't cross him
    showed him my man hand
    didn't come like no punk ass bitch nigga
    ain't gonna speak on other relatives
    me and my brother prison niggas
    we know ride yo own beef
    no man can bear burdens of another
    I knew he was killer
    San Quentin Soledad Folsom
    McNeil Island
    California Youth Authority beginning
    We both in Fresno Juvenile Hall
    Asked Mama when judge said  my grades saved me from CYA
    Grades didn't save brother
    Outside  Fresno County Juvenile Hall
    asked Mama why she wasn't crying'
    Mama said, "Son, I might not be crying on outside but I'm crying inside."
    One time Daddy came to jail and cried to see me in handcuffs for juvenile delinquency behavior.
    Burglary, car thief, stealing gas, gang fighting, yes, honor student, the reason judge didn't send me to CYA with my brother.


    Meanwhile back in West Oakland
    niggas couldn't visit Lake Merritt
    except on 4th of July and other Holidays
    my brother said even then we could only occupy special sections of the lake

    We called Lincoln Theatre  flea house rat house
    sometimes couldn't put feet on floor for rats
    hated going there
    didn't want to go home fleas biting me
    Niggas could go to the Lux
    less fleas
    couldn't go to the Paramount Fox
    Mama said me and my brother had to go together
    I had to suffer fleas rats at Lincoln

    Granny covered me with Eucalyptus leafs from Daddy's shop
    we lived in back of  parent's florist shop
    Seventh and Campbell
    Chinese grocery across the street north
    Dangott's Loan across the street east
    Loraines's greasy spoon next to Lincoln
    hamburgers and fries  tswimming in grease
    soulfood grease
    good heart attack grease
    fries good heart attack soul food too
    Love's Loraine's
    leaving the Lincolm
    or going in

    10/12/18

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    #10 The Politics of Sports





    Although Dr. Harry Edwards supposedly pioneered the sociology of sports, Dr. Nathan Hare wrote his PhD thesis at the University of Chicago on sports, and was a professional boxer. Dr. Hare was so radical he was kicked out of a Negro college, Howard University, where he lectured on sociology and taught Black Power radical Stokely Carmichael, aka Kwame Toure'. He was partly ousted from Howard for bringing Muhammad Ali to campus after he had refused to fight in Vietnam, after all, Ali said, "The Vietcong never called me a Nigger!" Later, Howard also found Hare's boxing career unacceptable for one of their distinguished academics, so he landed at San Francisco State College/now University to become the first chair of Black and Ethnic Studies at a major American university, igniting the longest student strike in American academic history.







    Today as we replay the political history of athletes such as Muhammad Ali, Tommy Smith and John Carlos, reincarnated in the persona of Colin Kaepernich and now a host of other brothers who have suddenly awakened to the reality of life in racist, white supremacist America, despite their status as muli-million dollar running dogs for professional athletics, we are not shocked at the response of white America, led by the president who has further inflamed the torch of racism by calling the mostly Black athletes “sons of bitches.” Oh, shit, that white nationalist motherfucker Trump truly crossed the line of propriety by playing the dozens. Now you know Homey don't play dat, not with sacred holy Mother (Of God).

    For sure, the politics of American sports has reached a level never seen before, not even when Jack Johnson ignited one of the worse race riots in American history after becoming the Black heavy weight champion of the world , and after Muhammad Ali refused to serve as a running dog for American imperialism or when John Carlos and Tommy Smith gave the Black Power salute to protest American racism at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City.

    It is indeed wonderful to see the Black athletes unite with the suffering masses of North American Africans. These brothers (and sister athletes as well) have put their careers on the line for social justice. We salute them and welcome them home.

    --Marvin X

    9/29/17


    #11 Confession of an Ex-basketball Player

    What I am about to tell you  may shock you beyond belief as I shocked DJ Davey D when I told him I was writing this essay. But it's true. It is a story of how one can transcend the illusions of life, things we thought were priority, vital to our breath of air, yet, Solomon told us when I was a child I did childish things, when I became a man , I put away childish things. Elijah Muhammad taught all his followers, including Muhammad Ali, the world was not made for sport and play. HEM's sole focus was our liberation into a nation of our own. But we must take a break, R and R, sometimes. My mentor Sun Ra asked, "Where can Black people go for R an R, i.e., rest and relaxation? Nowhere!" The best we can do is the escape of sports and entertainment to "assuage our social angst and shattered cultural striving, " said Dr. Nathan Hare.

    With all wars, even in the low intensity national liberation battle of North American Africans in their childhood and young adulthood, soldiers find sports a necessary diversion from the real world of dread, make believe and conspicuous consumption, the one trillion five billion illusions of the monkey mind Guru Bawa taught us about.

    Some of us budding soldiers came to realize sports was/is indeed a diversion from the real world that  would otherwise drive us to the brink of suicide or homicide. Like music, sports soothes the wild beast in us while stimulating our tribal instincts in athletic prowess and competition..

    As a child, teenager and college student, basketball was my life, a way to get away from home in a safe space satisfactory to my parents.  Shooting basketball probably saved me from descending totally into the precipice of juvenile delinquency, although my high school coaches bet I would fuck up before the season was over. For sure, although an A student and athlete, several times I found myself in Juvenile Hall for stealing from the snack shop at White's Theatre in Fresno CA where all Blacks went on Sundays, or barely escaped  GTA, i.e., grand theft auto, after we stole keys from cars in auto dealerships and siphoned gas so we could joy ride weekends to meet with country girls in Madera or Hanford, or attend the country fairs in Visalia and Tulare where we snatched purses from screaming white girls.

    But the question is how did I get so far away from basketball, something I loved? My basketball career began at New Century Recreation Center, next door to McFeely Elementary School, where I spent the 3rd and 4th grade in West Oakland, Harlem of the West coast. New Century's gym was my home away from home. Soon I was addicted to basketball. It became my drug of choice as a youth. FYI, at New Century I saw a dance teacher that my elementary school mind told me was a beautiful queen. I could not say she was an African queen because I knew nothing about Africa except Tarzan and Jane that I learned from movies at drive in theaters with my parents or at Whites Theatre in Fresno and the Lincoln Theatre on 7th Street in West Oakland, across the street from my parent's florist shop, where we lived in the back. Lincoln Theatre was owned or managed by a Black man, Mr. Freeman.

    The Dance teacher was Ruth Beckford who looked royal with her short natural--, yes, a natural in the 50s when we were Negroes and niggas. Black was a fighting word.
    But Ruth Beckford was black and beautiful to me. And I relished seeing her come and go from her dance classes.

    But my primary interest was basketball. When I got to Lowell Junior High, I made the team and a cheerleader tongue kissed me and scared me to death. I knew nothing about tongue kissing but she taught me. I ain't telling you her name!

    On the Lowell Junior High team was Joe Ellis who went on to play for the SF Warriors. At a basketball clinic, I won a trophy for hitting 9 of 10 at the free throw line. McClymonds star and future NBA player Paul Silos was there. I don't think he hit 9 of 10 from the free throw line!
    The Defermery Park, now Bobby Hutton Grove, basketball court separated stars from wannabees, after all Bill Russell played there, Paul Silos, Joe Ellis, Jim Hadnot, the Aliens brothers and the Pointer Sister's brothers, et al., from McClymonds, the School of Champions, pride of West Oakland and the City at large for producing so many State champions in all sports. Let me acknowledge my homeboy from Fresno, the legendary McClymond's Coach Benny Tapscott.


    In Fresno my basketball career continued at Frank H and Frank White rec centers on the West Side. We used to play at Frank White on the outside courts. Benny Tapscott was there,  along with Odell Johnson, who later starred at St. Mary's and became President of Laney College, Billy Hicks, my neighbor in the projects, Leroy Mimms, who became President of Contra Costa College in Richmond.

    A few days ago in the parking lot of a grocery market in Oakland, I recognized a brother I remembered from New Century and Defermery: he always had a braid in his hair. He was sitting at the wheel of a faded gold 1955 classic Cadillac. As I headed into the market I couldn't resist saying something to him, "Hey, bro, I remember you playing basketball at Defermery. Matter of fact, didn't you play at New Century?" He said yes. I said, "Hell, bro., you was old in the 50s as I recall. How old are you now?" He said, "91. I graduated from high school in 1944. Wasn't no Merritt College or Laney so I went to Community College in San Francisco." I was honored to be in his presence because I surely remember him, especially at Defermery as one master of the game.
    There were other brothers like Big Joe Johnson who used to use his weight to muscle into the hole at New Century and Defermery; Toliver, point guard who could dunk, AC Scott, Bobby Chapman, et al.

    In Fresno, Edison High was the school of champions. I spent my high school years on the team at Edison. I recall we played against Lemoore High School that had one black player, Tommy Smith. With five Blacks on our team, Tommy and his crew of white boys were no match, we beat their asses. I was shocked but honored when Tommy Smith raised his fist in the black power salute at the 1968 Olympics along with John Carlos, Mexico City, 1968.



    Having recounted the above, I am shocked at my self for  transcending basketball and never having seen the Warriors play?

    They won the NBA championship again tonight in Oakland. Warriors! Warriors! Warriors! Everybody loves winners. I love winners. I salute the Oakland Warriors! Oakland is the City of Warriors, City of Resistance, like Fallujah in Iraq, destroyed yet resistant--Oakland North American Africans, yes, City of Champions, Pullman Porters Union, Black Panther Party and the battle continues....
    Let the new generation take the baton, let them not reinvent the wheel but learn from Ancestor and Elder mistakes and avoid them as you move into the world of your making. Khalil Gibran said your children come through you but they are not you. You are the bow, they are the arrow!

    No, I have never watched a Warrior game or any other NBA game. I can't believe myself after spending  childhood and young adulthood playing basketball night and day, sleeping and eating basketball. I cannot believe after being on the team at Merritt College, 1962.  At Merritt my main problem was my West Oakland brothers from McClymonds, John Aikens, Jackson, Bobby Chapman, A.C. Scott, Toliver, Sunni James Shabazz, et al. I was not going into the hole with those tall brothers from McClymonds, they weren't going to elbow me in the head. After suffering a knee injury on the road, I think it was against Fresno City College, I gave up basketball and started playing tennis. Wasn't many blacks into tennis in 1963. When I beat a tall white boy on the tennis court at Merritt, he threw his racket down and walked off the court. I continued playing tennis until I taught at the University of Nevada, Reno, and my children visited me for the summer, 1979. My son, Darrel, aka Abdul (RIP), a high school tennis champ, beat me set after set and laughed all the way. It was then that I realized youth is superior to elders as per energy and strength. My son ended my tennis career forever.

    My athletic interest was rekindled when my oldest son Marvin Keith played college football as defensive end, captain of the defense. I saw him sack the quarterbacks. And this was all right with me until he thought I was the quarterback to sack as abandoned father. I was elated when he tried out for the San Francisco 49s but was cut. He didn't pursue his athletic career but went into computer programming. When he worked for PGE, he said, "Dad, do you know how much I make?" I said no son, he said, "Eight thousand dollars every two weeks." All I could say was wow. He showed me his hand computer  that controlled all the PGE computer stations in Northern California. After my son was cut from the 49rs, I had no further interest in football.
    I am happy to report that today, 10/21/18, I attended a soccer match between Cal Poly and Cal State East Bay.

    Left to Right: The Marvin X Jackmon Crew: Granddaughter Naima Joy, grandson Jahmeel, daughter Attorney Amira Jackmon, Marvin X, grandson Jordan



    Left to right: Grandfather Marvin X and grandchildren Jahmeel, Jordan and Naima
    at Cal State East Bay vs. Cal Poly soccer game 10/21/18 

    Marvin' s son Jordan, my grandson, is a member of Cal Poly's team. They won 3 to O. Jordan may have rekindled my interest in sports! All power to my grandson and his twin sister Jasmin, also a soccer player at the University of Oregon.
     Jasmin Jackmon

     Jasmin Jackmon
    10/21/18

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  • 11/01/18--19:09: Time poem by marvin x




  • Time
    final monster in our midst
    unconquerable no matter what
    time
    master all things
    living waters rivers oshuns
    we follow tides
    high tide
    low tide
    you know tide coming
    no stress
    tide come soon
    moon time
    predators
    snake wants
    raccoon bold
    fight dog
    kick dog ass
    time
    Gullah time family time
    Gullah family love
    Family compound love
    Gullah child


    sun moon stars
    time
    before time
    beyond time
    history mystery
    time
    nano time
    yesterday time
    love time
    war time
    time
    no stress time
    know thyself time
    a time to love time
    mother time
    father time
    mother father time
    time for children time
    eternal time
    mama children time
    beyond time
    mama time
    fly mama
    imagine the new world mama.
    imagine the new world.

    Time
    slipping into darkness
    time stuck
    no motion
    back forward
    Michael Jackson Moon Walk
    Sun Ra say Creator got things fixed
    don't do right thing
    can't go backward forward
    stuck on stupid
    Supper Glue on asses.
    --Marvin X
    11/1/18

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    Note# 22 Imagine A Black Nation
    In Memory of Imari Obadele, Republic of New Africa
    What happened to Nation Time, the dreams, visions, revisions, disillusions -- a time of hope
    unfulfilled, “Driftin’ and Driftin’,  like that Charles Brown blues tune, no more imagination
    beyond a return to ancient Kemet, the land we fled four thousand years ago, thus an impossible
    return, for who can go home after four thousand years except a mad Jew, and we see what
    terror he has caused upon return--Jewish nationalism, white nationalism, black nationalism,
    La Raza nationalism, Chinese nationalism, revolutionary black nationalism,et al.
    Black nationalism  is a mental drift, the most terrible kind because it tears at the heart as well
    as the mind, thus we are drenched in sweat upon awakening from the nightmare of imagination
    and must face the bright sun of reality: we have no nation, want no nation, satisfied to be lost
    and turned out on the way to grandmother's house (Whispers, Olivia).
    Shall we drift from here to eternity, for how can we avoid synchronizing our dreams with
    reality, finally and forever, standing on solid ground as we move into the future of a thousand
    tomorrows.
    Imagine a nation, a land of soul people who are healing their wounds from centuries of terror,
    who blame no one except themselves for the terror, for the ship and whip, the cross and
    lynching tree, yes, the strange fruit of the last supper in paradise, before entering the door
    of no return.
    Imagine a nation, somewhere in the South where our people died, where we can honor their
    bones and blood, shed in the sun and night, where their spirits still dance in the swamp
    and river bottoms, the plantations and huts still standing, where spirits go wild in the wind
    and in the stillness of summer.
    Imagine a nation, perhaps Up South in the wicked cities that defied the hope and dreams
    of generations, maybe there we shall declare ourselves free and claim sovereignty, a place
    called the Republic of Pan Africa, like Brooklyn. where we have gathered for the first time
    in four thousand years, de facto capital of the Diaspora,  coming from Mississippi, North
    and South Carolina Africans, Jamaica and Haitian Africans, Nigerian, Ghanaian and
    Senegalese, bound together again, this time forever on Fulton Street and streets too many
    to name.
    And yes, there is pain and rivalry,  jealousy and envy, love and hate in the night, but we are
    there in the sun, in the snow, a nation not yet standing, not fully sensing our power, strength,
    the full strength of a mighty nation forced together again, not since fleeing the pyramids and
    pharaohs, the murders for succession, the flight of queens with sons and daughters who did
    not assume the throne. And there was drought and famine forcing them up the Nile,
    the mighty Congo and Niger.
    Imagine, the Republic of Pan Africa, not the nationalism of fools, but the product of
    engineers, planners and builders who began with a thought centuries ago in the cane,
    cotton and rice fields, the woods of Nat Turner, Gabriel Prosser, Denmark Vesey, the
    railroad of Harriet Tubman, the womanhood of Sojourner Truth, but caught, yes, as
    Rev.James Cone (RIP)  said, between the cross and lynching tree.
    But it was the thought that refused to die, yet resurrected every season like the Nile,
    the dream of the homeland where we must be taken in once again. Have we not paid for
    this land with sweat, blood and tears? It is ours so claim the portion we desire, stand upon
    the ground and cry liberty or death, but have we not died a million times, even now at this
    hour we crucify ourselves for failing to stand tall as full men and women, our children
    annihilate themselves like Buddhist monks on fire in Vietnam, only because we have not
    passed on ancestor tales of liberty and freedom, discipline and work.
    Imagine a nation, days of absence from our animal selves, and the donning of our divinity,
    wherein we hate each other no more, never again, the jealousy, the Willie Lynch syndrome,
    Yacoub’s children playing with steel, some genetic defect in our divine nature.
    Imagine a nation, removed from those we cannot live with in peace, thus we part from them
    and their wickedness, taking with us only the genius of our minds, for look at the fruit of our
    labor under the sun, surely we can do the same for ourselves as we did for the master,
    transcending the pyramids with our original creations in the now and tomorrow.
    But the question is not if but when America falls, what is the post-American plan for North
    American Africans? Will we finally acquire sovereignty as a nation of self-determined people,
    will we secure a land base with access to the sea, and minerally rich for our centuries of free
    and nearly free labor under the sun? Or will we sit with while other ethnic groups secure the
    division of this stolen property called the united snakes of america..
    Native Americans will want equity for thievery,  their fair share, along with Latinos, Asians
    and poor whites—will the so called Negro sit around waiting for the Master to return, or
    will he go about, finally and without hesitation, doing for self, reconstructing his fallen cities,
    getting control of the infrastructure, water, electricity, roads, schools, workplaces, airports,
    taxes, security? We have done it for the white man, 2019 shall be the 400 year celebration of
    our landing in this wilderness of North America. Are we prepared to report to God, ancestors,
    elders, adults, children on our condition after being kidnapped 400 years ago, 1619.
    Long ago we called for Black Power, but with the coming fall of America, we shall have the
    opportunity to fulfill our dreams. Oh, it cannot happen? America is too strong. Firstly, you
    have no real idea how strong America is just as you have no idea how strong you are—you
    are so full of fear you cannot and never have been able to think straight. Every thought
    you ever thought has been wrong simply because it was not thinking outside the box of
    Americana,                                              because you have been confined to the box and never
    had a chance to consider the configuration of your society except for your 19th century
    thinkers and dreamers, and your 20th century thinkers and planners. Garvey and Elijah
    Muhammad. Imari dreamed of the Republic of New Africa.
    Nations come and go, where is Egypt, Rome, Greece, Great Britain and the Soviet Union?
    Does the Chinaman have a chance today--you haven't heard that racist remark recently,
    for the Chinese have a very good chance to rule the world. so why do you think America
    shall remain forever and forever in its present condition?
    It will absolutely change because its ethnic minorities shall soon become the majority.
    Why are not your leaders planning for the future and our well-deserved fair share?
    If and when  America, as did the Soviet Union, falls apart, what do you want? A job?
    A job, a job!
    You mean after 400 years of free and nearly free labor, you only desire a job? Are you crazy,
    are you totally insane or just lazy, like a whore awaiting marching orders from her pimp—
    not knowing the pimp is dead, he was killed in a shootout with rivals. Your leaders, why are
    they running around licking the behinds of the the Democratic and Republican parties rather
    than establishing an independent political entity that will take us into the future?
    They shall be charged for their shortsightedness, their myopia of the mind.

    Our goal should not be to achieve parity with white Americans (which is mediocrity, at best),
    but with India and China. We should forget about equality with Americans and see the global
    picture and imagine our role in it. But we are so blinded by white supremacy that all we see is
    white, white, white. Look around, the world is no longer white. Power will not be white in the
    not so distant future—can you look ahead a few days and plan accordingly or shall you sit on
    your behinds awaiting the crumbs from the fall of America?

    0 0

     Harlem New York reception for Marvin X at the home of poet Rashidah Ishmaili, 2014. Marvin X was in NYC to speak at the New York University memorial for poets Jayne Cortez and Amiri Baraka.

    Maestro Marvin X with the Black Arts Movement Poets Choir and Arkestra, including David Murray, Earle Davis, Val Serrat, et al., Malcolm X Jazz/Art Festival, Oakland CA
    photo Adam Turner/Gene Hazzard


    Talkin' Ignut poem




    Would you prefer a black Communist or black Capitalist regime
    Black Muslim
    Super Sunni
    Iranian Shia
    Saudi Arabian Israeli ISIS
    Yoruba
    Hebrew
    Voodoo
    Hoodoo 
    Doodoo
    Gay lesbian trans
    Jesus saves Saviours
    Social Democratic Republican gangsta
    Scientology Farrakhan
    Back to Egypt back to the moon
    Back to back
    Wakanda multicultural
    Me too him too
    Ho's tricks too
    Priests boys too
    Women dogs too
    What a wonderful world
    Can't we all just
    Have some Pizza
    --MARVIN X
    11/5/18

    Can I hear some black music 

    Can I hear some Black music
    Not fusion Miller Lite
    Mexican soul music
    Mi corazon
    Black music
    Not white hippie hip hop
    Black jazz 
    Coltrane Billie Bessie
    Blues
    Cotton field blues
    Cane field
    Rice blues 
    Chicago pain
    Urban blues
    Fillmore Street 7th Street Oakland Blues
    Hammond B 3 Blues supreme
    Jimmy Smith
    Earl Father Hines jazz blues
    Josephine Baker Slim Jenkin's blues
    John Singer Pullman Porter Union Hall Blues
    No water down blues
    Give me national anthem 
    Lift every voice and sing blues.
    --MARVIN X
    11/5/28

    Love Letter to Ann Williams

    Ann
    can you believe a nigger can love you for fifty years
    in silence
    from 1962 til now
    your black beauty was supreme then and now
    your intelligence
    quiet character in the midst of madmen supreme
    your partner turned out to be the maddest of all
    Beyond Donald/Khalid
    beyond Huey, Bobby
    Ken Freeman, Isaac Moore, Ernie Allen, Maurice Dawson Judy Juanity
    Ann
    I won't call his name because he honored me
    first to recognize me as writer
    introduced me to Huey Newton

    you were cool through it all
    black velvet beauty
    sustained years of terror death betrayal 
    jealousy envy
    Was it your West Oakland spirit
    like mine
    codified in Harlem of the West
    Defermery Park
    McClymonds
    New Century
    Lincoln Theatre
    John Singer's Pool Hall/Bar
    upstairs
    C.L. Dellums  and the Pullman Porters Union
    Nephew Ron Dellums
    sometimes we can't come close to elders
    we try we try
    I thought I was better than my father
    what a fool
    people told me I sounded like my father
    Thought I was a Garveyite Black nationalist
    on my own
    Paul Cobb told me my dad used to attend Garvey meetings
    at his grandfather's house in West Oakland
    Ann 
    cool quiet woman
    called upon to listen
    Donald Warden ranted on and on in your ear on telephone
    He loved your quiet black beauty
    unsurpassed unequal
    even today
    last days of Babylon
    you are here
    standing tall
    royal african beauty and intelligence
    queen of the bay
    quiet storm
    I love you 
    just know that
    warrior woman
    West Oakland Queen
    Ann Williams
    Better  ax somebody!
    --Marvin X
    11/5/18

    0 0




    We want reparations for every ounce of white blood in North American Americans
    rape blood not love blood
    Vicious rapist white man blood
    1619 blood
    Good Ship Jesus Pilgrim John Hawkins Amazing Grace blood
    Pay the cost
    Massa  charlie boss capt.
    pay yo pussy bill billy boy
    Can you pay
    Make America great again pay
    you so great again pay
    slave hut floor blood pay
    mama cry in da nite blood pay
    call mama yellow wench
    cut baby out mama belly pay
    mama recalcitrant rebellious uppity yellow wench pay
    yellow wench plot slave revolt wit Gabriel Prosser
    read Black Thunder Black Thunder
    Pay white man bitch fa every nigga wit blue eyes pay
    raped nigga for devil blue eyed black children pay
    sold new year's day New York African Village wall auction
    Wall Street still auction block
    Rev. Cecil Williams Glide Church say pay
    Cecil make 'em pay
    Love you Daddy C
    Did everything fa me
    Set Tenderloin free
    Cept JB JB JB
    Can't save nigga don't wanna be free
    can't make donkey stallion
    white blood nigga still nigga

    Blond hair nigga still nigga pay
    Pay fa every blond hair wig wearing nigga today
    blond hair wig wearing niggas from America to Africa pay
    bleaching cream ebony magazine mulatto bitches pay
    for every ounce bleaching cream sold to niggas of yo creation pay
    Amiri Baraka say pay for every hurtful thing you said and did pay
    Urban plantation niggas sick wit whiteness pay
    Pay fa Othello Color Purple Colored Girls Dutchman Butler 12 Years a Slave Roots Amistad 
    Pay for every black dream of white desire
    Pay poison white supremacist education
    Religion
    Politics economics 
    no manhood womanhood training pay
    Pay DNA smart ass white boy
    becky pay too
    white woman white man in drag
    Once of white blood nigga white right
    America pay
    empty fort knox
    empty federal reserve pay.
    Marvin X
    11/7/18

    0 0

    Comment on Marvin X  Ancestors Poem 
    by Omolade R. Roddy
    amen...?

    o.k, amen 

    whoa....heavy

    o.k, so for a second I was getting all caught up w/ the the language ....the words.... and I couldn't seem to get over this wal that was anging strong around my consciousness

    deflectin' what you were trying to say (or what you were sayin' and I was tryin' not to get)... becuz' of whatever was comin' up for me around seeing and hearing the word "ancestors" being wrapped in this cloak of "motherfuckers...whores" et al....

    so I was skimming through it all.....pickin' up pieces and depth here and there. 

    you have always been pretty heavy, so I was like..

    "ok, here we go, ummm, I know.. he's gonna go there and I don't if i'm able or if I know if I can allow myself to go that deep."

    then I had to consciously stop....and make myself read it all over again..

    this time, line by line...

    savoring it like quinine or some other bitter tonic. 

    and then actually,when I allowed myself to be and really sit w/ the discomfort of it... (as silly as that sounds) ...

    I found it to be really beautiful...

    a marvinx-esque like beautiful, but beautiful.
    nonetheless.

    thanks baba

    --Omolade R. Roddy
    --------------------

    Ancestors
    Marvin X
    Ancestors
    Who are the real motherfuckers
    who fucked our fathers and mothers
    kidnapped Motherland Africa  to good ship jesus
    door of no return
    sea of blood bones
    sharks and wail
    imagine stench piss feces period blood
    starvation suicide ocean revolution
    we land in the Carolinas
    enjoy 
    five hundred years
    duty free labor
    sent by ancestor kings and queens
    who sold us to the ghost
    Baraka teaches us
    ancestors we call you in the name of nigguhs
    black nigguhs in the hoods of america
    not pseudo black kemetic niggas fakes and frauds
    scared to see the new royal children imperial kings and queens of the realm
    too blind by the sun of Ra to find a bone at the Pyramid
    you are horrified garbage at the door of King Tut's pyramid
    coca cola bottoms condoms
    remains of grave robbing tourists
    The Misri people (aka, Egyptians) told Sun Ra and his Arkestra
    this is not our land
    this is your land
    your creations
    yet North American Africans search in vain for their lost identity
    year after year
    when the whole earth is ours
    Africa
    Arabia
    Asia
    Americas
    Europe
    black man's land

    Gullahland America Africa Carolinas
    Senagalease rice Africans in American slave system
    hear talk on how rice came to America
    rice plantations in Africa
    see Gullah basket weave 
    enjoy Gullahland land
    Africa in Mississippi Alabama Georgia
    Can't leave out New Orleans Africa
    Harlem Africa Brooklyn Southside Chicago Detroit St. Louis Los Angeles Oakland San Francisco 
    take claim to the land and forever hold your tongues
    dig the pyramids of Louisiana for Moorish mounds
    Seminoles of Florida Maroon Nation Africans Native Americans
    Gullahs  Geeches up and down the coast
    All Gullahs ain't Geeches
    All Geeches ain't Gullahs
    Emancipation Reconstruction
    North American African Nation
    decreed all land from South Carolina to Florida
    fucked by the motherfucker
    king and queen motherfucker and son of bitch
    male rape child rape mother rape
    allowed by king and queen
    ancestors all guilty and charged
    Sun Ra said they got to pay
    Africa got to pay like the white man devil
    yeah, Africa pay
    you got the gold diamonds precious metals everywhere
    pay
    stop paying europe and pay the negro
    the motherfucker you made with the red flag
    guiding him to the shore through the door of no return
    that bitch warrior you allowed to be raped in front of his women and children
    that whore who kept us alive while sexing the master
    who wanted all the women men and children
    greedy bastard
    and talk of clean english
    fuck the english language
    fuck every word of it
    and fuck you too 
    you speak it 
    and love it
    and seek to purify it with you fake asses
    claiming ancestor holiness
    let the ancestors be cursed for their iniquities
    and debaucheries
    the selling of souls in the centuries of time
    yet you call them holy
    call Mississippi holy
    call Alabama Georgia Louisiana Carolina's holy ground
    the marsh swamp bayous rivers creeks
    holy trees of strange fruit and blood wine
    call the ancestors from the woods and forests
    call them from the pine trees and moss wood swamps
    call them from the rice canefields cotton
    from plantation and city of death in the family
    Clara said she wanted to put her head in the oven
    in the detroit of her time
    Elijah was drunk as a coot she said
    when Master Fard came selling red silk
    the same red we followed to the shore
    when the king sold us to the ghost, Baraka said
    he told us about the railroad in the bottom of ocean
    filled with bones
    ancestor bones who resisted and wailed cried and shitted
    not only tongues but vile moans shouts screams to the motherfucker
    the son of a bitch ancestor
    who pitted tribe against tribe warrior against warrior
    man against woman for trinkets and barrels of rum
    and we yet praise them
    in our abject ignorance
    we praise the culture of madness and gold
    madness and diamonds
    madness and chopped hands clitoris legs
    and there is no end even today
    the kings and queens are alive and well
    working overtime to feed themselves full
    as we whore and rape each other into the night of the full moon
    where the silence is aloud and heard the world over
    the silence of hunger and disease
    silence of ignorance and demands to be king for life
    to never end the terror
    to never avenge the righteous
    to continue the plunder until the new kingdom comes
    and the wicked are reduced to dust
    and the motherfucker receives his fucking
    Amen.
    --Marvin X
    4.17.09


    WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 2018



    Oh, Ancestors Speak to Me! Digame Por favor

    Oh, Ancestors Speak to Me




    "Marvin, this is a Beautiful Poem. I saw myself in it and others that I know in it."


    --Jerry Varnado, San Francisco State University Strike leader, 1968

    Oh, Ancestors Speak to Me
    Digame
    Digame
    Digame
    por favor
    speak to me
    my legs cannot move if you do not speak
    your voice is the spirit in my walk in my soul
    I cannot move without your direction
    digame
    digame por favor
    you guided me then departed
    I am here alone in this wilderness
    shall I be ashamed alone
    can I walk without trembling
    you stood so long
    I thought forever you would hold my hand
    strengthen my knees
    you taught me don't get weak
    stand tall
    stay solid don't bend
    solid
    you told me in prison
    Allah loves a soldier
    hates cowards
    Allah loves warriors
    hates cowards
    stay solid
    don't bend

    Oh Batin
    speak
    digame
    Ali Sharif Bey
    speak Islam
    Sunni Shia Ahmaddia Sufi
    Nation of Islam
    speak
    polytheism  Islam
    Tell me
    black stone rejected
    corner stone
    we black stone
    rejected despised
    socalled Negro
    tool fool of the world
    black stone
    corner stone
    yes Paradise Jahlove teach
    they love everything about you but you
    Lou Rawls say
    what did you do to be
    so black and blue
    crucified on the cross and lynching tree of America, world
    Ancestor Rev. James Cone
    we love you
    liberation theology supreme
    a love supreme
    a love supreme
    Rev. James Cone
    Jesus socalled Negro
    crucified daily
    can't drink coffee Starbucks
    can't breathe
    we here for you
    can't breathe
    can't talk walk
    we hear
    speak ancestors
    digame
    por favor
    digame
    speak from shanties tent cities speak
    speak Mexico city dirt floor huts
    speak Belize flying roaches
    no black flag
    let roaches live
    digame Jamaica
    digame Trinidad
    digame Venezuela
    speak
    tin roof huts
    speak poor but happy
    speak Mexico
    Speak Belize Honduras
    speak Afro-Columbia
    speak Tenderloin San Francisco
    my home
    cardboard box home Crack fiend
    love in cardboard box
    smoke crack
    crack ho recite fatiha in Arabic
    give head cardboard box love
    homeless love
    Oh, Tenderloin
    I claim every alley doorway hindu hilton hotel
    what alley I do not know
    what doorway
    what bus stop BART station line to line
    tell me of cold winter nights East Bay Terminal
    There with my brothers
    Edward
    Nadar
    Squirrel
    Muslims on the bottom
    Supreme wisdom Muslims
    on the bottom
    I got it but didn't get it
    Supreme Wisdom
    How can I escapeTenderloin
    dope fiends of every kind
    good lovin' ho's
    she married her ho' at Glide Church
    put dat ho' on the street same night
    took me home to smoke crack
    no man in her house before me
    lesbian pimp ho' bitch
    no man in her house before me good pimpin' ass bitch

    I live on bottom of the world
    sea to sea
    country to country
    religion to religion
    politics to politics
    ideology to ideology
    no matter Left Right

    Digame
    speak to me
    I stand on shoulders
    walk on feet
    dream dreams you dreamed
    No original thoughts beyond thoughts of freedom
    I shall not betray you
    sacred dreams not lost in madness of globalism
    we are not PC diaper baby snow flakes
    suffering micro aggression
    stand tall
    we endured FOI officials in Chicago
    Supreme Captain Raymond Sharieff
    National Secretary John Ali
    Captain Elijah Muhamad
    baddest niggas in the world
    except when I got home to SF and Guru Alonzo Batin
    said I was a punk motherfucker to confess to niggas worse than I could ever b
    Batin said I was a punk bitch ass nigga for confessing to rats snakes vipers cobras
    Batin gave manhood training
    Black Arts West/Black House San Francisco
    teach  Batin
    Criminal Muslim supreme
    Heroin addict
    Imam in prison
    addict/iman big yard
    true believer
    can't pimp Batin
    call him hypocrite Muslim
    think for self Muslim
    gangster Muslim
    true to the game
    game true to you
    Batin
    stand on your shoulders
    devoured your bean soup
    wheat bread butter honey
    Whiting fish
    all night long science
    marijuana science marijuana
    Speak Batin
    Speak Ali Sheriff Bey
    Speak Aaron Ali
    Master Teacher linguistics
    Speak Brother Edward
    raised us from  dead at San Francisco State University
    UC Berkeley San Jose State University
    Speak Brother Edward blessed us with supreme wisdom when we were deaf dumb blind playing bid whist in cafeteria at San Francisco State University.
    Digame
    Digame
    Digame!
    --Marvin X
    5/4/18



    0 0







    Poets write to keep from killing, homicide or suicide, two sides of the coin of death. Most often, poets kill when they can't express themselves with words. If and when poets are political, when they refuse to write poems for the king and queen and defy court patronage, and persist in critiquing contradictions of the royal court, the king and queen has no use for them and they may be forced to flee their homeland or suffer prison or death even since no kingdoms based on lies can allow poets to speak the truth.

    We have written about the symbiotic relationship between poets and politicians, although this symbiosis can become dysfunctional when the poet transcends the narrative of the royal regime, especially those king/queen for life regimes that forbid opposition. See Parable of the Parrot, Parable of Trinkets and Gadgets, Parable of Black Man and Block Man by Marvin X.

    The poet who speaks only truth cannot be tolerated by any regime based on lies. Wicked regimes only love poets and artists who perform as pharaoh's magicians, sycophants willing to promote the royal narrative for kibbles and bits, crumbs from Pharaoh's table. The recalcitrant poets who are determined to be obstinate and incorrigible must be silenced or disposed permanently.

    The wicked regimes become relentless in their effort to silence any narrative that contradicts the official one. Poet, writers, journalists, singers, actors, must not transcend the royal regime's propaganda machine. To do so is often called treason or sedition at the very least, which means saying anything not in agreement with the royal order.

    Do not speak of the king in the negative, even if and when he is negative. When the poet cannot submit to the royal order, the symbiotic relationship is no longer tenable and must be severed for the good of the kingdom. The poet becomes a banned person. No one must speak with him, no one must read his books. He is a danger to society and to himself since he refuses to submit to the rules and regulations, policies and precepts of the royal order. He is labeled agitator, opposition, revolutionary, thus a danger to the security of the state, even his books are dangerous and fictional characters must be rounded up and incarcerated for crimes against the state. I am thinking of the Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiongo. In Native Son, the lawyer said, "Every glance of the eye is a threat; his very presence is a crime against the state." He was not speaking of an artist but the oppressed man, Bigger Thomas. But in the manner of Ngugi, was not only his characters but Richard Wright himself was a danger to society and died in mysterious circumstances in Paris?

    And them came James Baldwin deposing Richard Wright of the Black literary heavyweight championship. And Baldwin did great until The Fire Next Time when he got the bright idea to interview the Most Honorable Elijah Muhammad. Pharaoh said enough! Shut the fuck up, we don't care if you gay or straight, shut the fuck up. Baldwin wouldn't shut up. I was blessed to interview him in his apartment across from Central Park, New York, a cold December, 1968: he had no heat in his apartment. Among other things, he said to me, "How dare they talk about the Prince of Peace while they bomb the hell out of  Vietnam! Your condition proves they don't believe in Jesus, Prince of Peace. Just look at your condition. It's a miracle for a black father to raise a son in these conditions and I applaud the fathers who are able to do so. Nothing else happened here except us, nothing else happened. It's a wonder we all haven't gone stark raving mad!"

    --Marvin X
    11/7/18
    \


    0 0

    Oh, Ancestors Speak to Me




    "Marvin, this is a Beautiful Poem. I saw myself in it and others that I know in it."

    --Jerry Varnado, San Francisco State University Strike leader, 1968

    Oh, Ancestors Speak to Me
    Digame
    Digame
    Digame
    por favor
    speak to me
    my legs cannot move if you do not speak
    your voice is the spirit in my walk in my soul
    I cannot move without your direction
    digame
    digame por favor
    you guided me then departed
    I am here alone in this wilderness
    shall I be ashamed alone
    can I walk without trembling
    you stood so long
    I thought forever you would hold my hand
    strengthen my knees
    you taught me don't get weak
    stand tall
    stay solid don't bend
    solid
    you told me in prison
    Allah loves a soldier
    hates cowards
    Allah loves warriors
    hates cowards
    stay solid
    don't bend

    Oh Batin
    speak
    digame
    Ali Sharif Bey
    speak Islam
    Sunni Shia Ahmaddia Sufi
    Nation of Islam
    speak
    polytheism  Islam
    Tell me
    black stone rejected
    corner stone
    we black stone
    rejected despised
    socalled Negro
    tool fool of the world
    black stone
    corner stone
    yes Paradise Jahlove teach
    they love everything about you but you
    Lou Rawls say
    what did you do to be
    so black and blue
    crucified on the cross and lynching tree of America, world
    Ancestor Rev. James Cone
    we love you
    liberation theology supreme
    a love supreme
    a love supreme
    Rev. James Cone
    Jesus socalled Negro
    crucified daily
    can't drink coffee Starbucks
    can't breathe
    we here for you
    can't breathe
    can't talk walk
    we hear
    speak ancestors
    digame
    por favor
    digame
    speak from shanties tent cities speak
    speak Mexico city dirt floor huts
    speak Belize flying roaches
    no black flag
    let roaches live
    digame Jamaica
    digame Trinidad
    digame Venezuela
    speak
    tin roof huts
    speak poor but happy
    speak Mexico
    Speak Belize Honduras
    speak Afro-Columbia
    speak Tenderloin San Francisco
    my home
    cardboard box home Crack fiend
    love in cardboard box
    smoke crack
    crack ho recite fatiha in Arabic
    give head cardboard box love
    homeless love
    Oh, Tenderloin
    I claim every alley doorway hindu hilton hotel
    what alley I do not know
    what doorway
    what bus stop BART station line to line
    tell me of cold winter nights East Bay Terminal
    There with my brothers
    Edward
    Nadar
    Squirrel
    Muslims on the bottom
    Supreme wisdom Muslims
    on the bottom
    I got it but didn't get it
    Supreme Wisdom
    How can I escapeTenderloin
    dope fiends of every kind
    good lovin' ho's
    she married her ho' at Glide Church
    put dat ho' on the street same night
    took me home to smoke crack
    no man in her house before me
    lesbian pimp ho' bitch
    no man in her house before me good pimpin' ass bitch

    I live on bottom of the world
    sea to sea
    country to country
    religion to religion
    politics to politics
    ideology to ideology
    no matter Left Right

    Digame
    speak to me
    I stand on shoulders
    walk on feet
    dream dreams you dreamed
    No original thoughts beyond thoughts of freedom
    I shall not betray you
    sacred dreams not lost in madness of globalism
    we are not PC diaper baby snow flakes
    suffering micro aggression
    stand tall
    we endured FOI officials in Chicago
    Supreme Captain Raymond Sharieff
    National Secretary John Ali
    Captain Elijah Muhamad
    baddest niggas in the world
    except when I got home to SF and Guru Alonzo Batin
    said I was a punk motherfucker to confess to niggas worse than I could ever b
    Batin said I was a punk bitch ass nigga for confessing to rats snakes vipers cobras
    Batin gave manhood training
    Black Arts West/Black House San Francisco
    teach  Batin
    Criminal Muslim supreme
    Heroin addict
    Imam in prison
    addict/iman big yard
    true believer
    can't pimp Batin
    call him hypocrite Muslim
    think for self Muslim
    gangster Muslim
    true to the game
    game true to you
    Batin
    stand on your shoulders
    devoured your bean soup
    wheat bread butter honey
    Whiting fish
    all night long science
    marijuana science marijuana
    Speak Batin
    Speak Ali Sheriff Bey
    Speak Aaron Ali
    Master Teacher linguistics
    Speak Brother Edward
    raised us from  dead at San Francisco State University
    UC Berkeley San Jose State University
    Speak Brother Edward blessed us with supreme wisdom when we were deaf dumb blind playing bid whist in cafeteria at San Francisco State University.
    Digame
    Digame
    Digame!
    --Marvin X
    5/4/18

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    Marvin X's Academy of da Corner, Lakeshore, is rapidly becoming the hottest intellectual gathering spot in Oakland for inter-generational and ecumenical discussion. By early afternoon on Saturdays, men and women gather for a free flowing discussion on any topic of interest. Chairs have been donated so people can sit in a semi-circle behind the Master Teacher's table  of conscious literature, including his own writings, the works of Drs. Nathan and Julia Hare, and other black classical conscious writings. As newcomers arrive, Marvin announces, "This is a sacred space for all points of view. Jesus is on my right (referring to a Christian brother). On the right of Jesus is Muhammad. Next to Muhammad is Buddha, newt to him is Scientology. On my left is Hebrew, to his left is Rasta. No killing allowed in this sacred space. All are free to express their minds. When women arrive, they are welcome to participate in the conversation." The participants nod in agreement  Marvin X is the facilitator. Sometimes there is conversation on both sides of his book table, mostly when customers arrive who know each other. Marvin does not try to dominate the conversation as if he is Mr. Know it All. People come by and drop a donation in the jar, maybe for some person who got a book for free. Others drop a donation into the jar on a regular basis as well as donate conscious books.

    A white woman said she passed  by in her car and seeing the stand, parked and came to see what was happening as the book stand was unusual for Oakland, although Marvin has operated Academy of da Corner for years at 14th and Broadway, downtown Oakland. Marvin told the woman his Academy is East coast style vending of conscious literature, more often seen on the streets of Harlem, Brooklyn, Newark, Philly and elsewhere. When on tour, Marvin X sets up shop in all these locations.

    On Lakeshore, Academy of da Corner is morphing into a regular discussion of spirituality as opposed to religiosity in the usual dogmatic manner. Brothers and sisters talk in a civilized manner, perhaps because of the calm manner of the host that remains so lately because brothers bring their music, jazz in particular, that no doubt soothes the wild beast of dogmatism and sectarianism. Today the music was Jimmy Smith, Miles Davis and John Coltrane. The teacher did not object when a brother from Los Angeles put on some rap music, Harbor City Krip rap.

    In the days ahead, we shall see how the Lakeshore Academy addresses critical issues. A white man passed and after seeing the anti-trump poster, told the group that President Trump had lowered the employment rate of North American Africans. Responding to the man, Marvin said, "That's the last thing we need is a job. We came here 400 years ago to do a job."

    At the entrance of the Trader Joe's parking lot, a homeless man spilled his shopping cart. When people tried to be negative with the man picking up his belongings, Marvin said, "They can talk about the man if they, but most people are only a paycheck away from pushing a shopping cart."

    During today's conversation, Marvin X interviewed for the second time by his nephew for a grad school project to obtain his MSW.

    On November 27, Marvin X will speak at his alma mater, San Francisco State University, in Davey D's Hip Hop Class. On December 5, he will read at the Beat Museum, along with poets in an anti-capitalist anthology. The reading is from 7-9pm. The Beat Museum is located in San Francisco's North Beach, Columbus and Broadway.

    Marvin X also found time to meet with his book design editor, Adam Turner, for a final proof reading of his forthcoming essays. The poet is scheduled to read from Notes  of Artistic Freedom Fighter Marvin X, December 15, Charles Wright Museum, Detroit, MI.









    Marvin X is now available for booking coast to coast. Send letter of invitation to jmarvinx@yahoo.com.