Truth will not make you rich, but it will make you free.
--Francis Bacon

Black Bird Press News

Loading...

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Syrian President Issues Amnesty, Why Not Obama?



Amnesty has been granted to all those politically criminalised before May 31 [Reuters]

Syrian president Bashar al Assad has issued a general amnesty aimed at calming 10 weeks of protests against his rule and a deadly military crackdown that has rocked the nation.

Syrian state-run media made the announcement on Tuesday, saying that "President Assad has by decree issued an amnesty on all [political] crimes committed before May 31, 2011."

The amnesty is to include all members of political movements, including the outlawed Muslim Brotherhood and all political prisoners, the report said.

Membership in the brotherhood, which led an armed rebellion against Assad's father in 1982, had been punishable by death in Syria.

The amnesty decree is believed to be a part of the overtures by the Syrian government to its opposition, largely seen as symbolic.



But it is also seen as an appeal to protesters, as one of their main demands has been the release of political prisoners, along with others such as curbing the power of Syrian security forces.

"It is one of the most important demands because people are spending many years in prison because of their demands for the human rights of our people," Anwar Al Bunni, a lawyer and human rights activist in Syria who spent five years in jail before being released last week, told Al Jazeera.

Bunni said that while amnesty for political prisoners is an important step, Syria needs to undergo many more changes.

"We need to form parties, we need to work politically, we need to meet, we need to have our independent media... we need to open a new page in Syria - a democratic Syria, a free Syria."

Amnesty 'insufficient'

The amnesty announcement was also shrugged off by Syrian opposition activists gathered in Turkey to discuss democratic change and voice support for the revolt.

"This measure is insufficient: we demanded this amnesty several years ago, but it's late in coming," activist Abdel Razak Eid told the AFP news agency.

"We are united under the slogan: the people want the fall of the regime and all those who have committed crimes brought to account. Blood will not have been spilled in vain," he said.

Syria has blamed the violence in the country on armed groups, Islamists and foreign agitators, saying more than 120 police and soldiers have been killed in the unrest.

The European Union last week slapped an assets freeze and travel ban on Assad himself, the latest in a string of sanctions against his regime.

Stepping up pressure on Assad to halt weeks of relentless violence, the EU earlier this month imposed an arms embargo and targeted the president's innermost circle, including his brother and four cousins.

Activists say that at least 10,000 people have been arrested since the start of the popular uprising almost two months ago.

Accurate information from Syria is difficult to confirm, as journalists have largely been denied access, but human rights groups say that more than 1,000 protesters have been killed since the uprising started.











Obama Must Give General Amnesty to all Prisoners


There has been a long call to free all prisoners unjustly held in American prisons and jails. Ninety per cent were mind altered at the time of their arrest, at least 50% were likely dual diagnosed, i.e., suffer drug abuse and mental illness. The majority are in for petty crimes and if they'd had proper legal representation would serve little or no time at all.

Not only are their crimes petty but should be seen as economic crimes due to poverty and lack of opportunity in a system that is advancing to what must be called neo-feudalism or wage slavery with little permanent employment, no health insurance, no unionism, thus they work at the whim of bosses who earn mega salaries and generous bonuses.

Once incarcerated, they suffer sexual and physical abuse, otherwise known as torture of the worse kind, and this includes inmates of mental wards, juvenile homes, jails and prisons. Those prisoners of conscious are often the most isolated for fear they will infect the population with radical ideology. The death row inmates are usually black and poor again, again, would not be on death row with proper legal representation.

The economic and social cost is astronomical, between fifty and sixty thousand dollars per inmate per year, more than it would cost to send them to Harvard, Yale and Stanford. But incarceration is big business in the era of de-industrialisation or the withering world of work, especially jobs with a living wage. Yet these neo-slaves, i.e., under the US Constitution involuntary servitude is legal, are a valuable commodity in the economic order. Prisons and jails are big business, in many communities the only business. They are now privatized and part of the military/corporate/university complex of institutions that perpetuate the capitalist system of free market exploitation. The incarcerated are of such value that the most powerful union in the state of California is the Correctional Officers Union that obviously has a vital stake in keeping the prison population high so they can maintain their lifestyle of conspicuous consumption. The Union will fight to the death to prevent a general amnesty.

In cahoots with the correctional officers are police departments who must arrest a quota of persons to maintain their jobs and justify their budgets. In some cities the police departments consume the major portion of city funds, to the neglect of schools, libraries and employment projects that would decrease arrests, court costs and incarceration. Many times the police are guilty of planting false evidence, false arrests, engaging in prostitution, drug dealing and money laundering. This behavior by law enforcement is a common feature below the border in Mexico, but is rapidly becoming a feature across the border in the US.

In some cases the police are in conspiracy with developers to destabilize neighborhoods that soon fall to gentrification. All the above applies to Oakland, California. It is a community under siege by police and gangs connected with the police. We suspect half the black on black homicide is police conspired.

A general amnesty must become a top priority of communities, especially with so many men falling victim to the slave catching police. This leads to family disintegration by increasing single family households. It is causing personality deformations in boys and girls who suffer prolong identity crisis since they lack positive male models. A young man attending a drug recovery meeting said, "Man, you might think some of my friends are gay, but they ain't gay, they just never heard a man's voice!"

We must reclaim are people from the dungeons , hellholes and Gulags in America. We cannot continue allowing them to be commodities in the capitalist system, similar to pork, corn, wheat and oil, to be traded on the stock exchange as neo-slaves.

If the last act of Saddam Hussein was a general amnesty, surely President Obama can do the same. It may get him some much needed brownie points for his 2012 election bid. But he must do so because it is the right thing to do. To not do so is economically and socially unsustainable.
--Marvin X
1/4/11

Mariah Carey - We Belong Together



Another possible song for Mythology of Love.

Monday, May 30, 2011

The PLO and North American African Independence

























The PLO and North American African Independence








We should follow the PLO into the United Nations General Assembly in September to declare their independence. We should be in the line behind them to declare ours. We have never exercised the human right to self determination. We did not vote upon socalled emancipation to become citizens of the United States. Such citizenship was forced upon us while we were suffering post traumatic stress slavery syndrome. We were in no state of mind to determine our fate beyond the virtual slavery we returned to during and after socalled Reconstruction.



It is time to say to the world we are free and independent of the United States of America. This is a frightening thought to many, some are shaking in their boots as they read this. And yet it's true that we have never had a thought free of the white man. We thus have no concept of independence, freedom, sovereignty. Our sole purpose in America has been for labor, a job, and after centuries of free labor, we are still looking for a job. We are so delusional that even when we know the jobs are gone to China, India, Brazil and elsewhere, we are still determined to find a job.



If we declare independence from America, we shall have millions of jobs building a nation in our vision. It will most certainly not include the capitalist free market economy. We can configure a better way, a social justice way that is not determined by quarterly profits but Gross National Happiness!



The killing in the hood shall continue as long as we remain a part of the Permanent War culture of America, with her trillion dollar annual military budget that maintains bases around the world to secure her "free" markets, wherein she secures the labor, land and natural resources of other nations, ultimately at the point of a gun, yes, call it gunboat economics and democracy. She wants cheap labor and cheap resources so her citizens can continue their addiction to conspicuous consumption or the world of make believe. Actually, she doesn't give a damn about her citizens, it's all about the profit motive, nothing else matters. They will sell their mamas to make a profit. And so we become psyched to the American nightmare, clinging to it like a sick wet dream from which we don't want to awaken. And yet like the wet dream, the American dream is an illusion, ever receding our grasp, it the manner of reaching that Sisyphean mountain top with rock in hand.



We can inhabit gated communities, yet outside the gates await reality, though we linger in denial like the worse dope addict yet to hit rock bottom. We know rock bottom is coming, but we pretend to the last moment it is not.



Perhaps after exhausting ourselves in the current black-face political charade, wherein we have been duped again by the wicked political process, left naked on the street with our hearts racing.



The whore told us change was gonna come. And we believed she was coming back. I'll be right back, don't let nobody in, darling, oh, you so sweet.... I'll be right back. Gotta drop off some milk for my babies. Want me to get some more dope while I'm out, gimme a few more dollars. I'll be right back, I promise.



It's Nation Time. Sun Ra taught me if you don't do the right thing, the Creator got things fixed, you can't go forward and you can't go backward, just stuck on stupid.

Yes, get in the line behind the Palestinians in September. People all over the world are standing up and declaring their freedom and sovereignty. Will you be the last people on earth?



This land must suffer the same fate of the Soviet Union or the Yugoslavia. It must be broken into ethnic enclaves so people can exercise their human and divine rights to be free among their own kind, not forever suffer in a hostile environment simple because of their color and economic status. We almost two million of our brothers and sisters victims of incarceration, we are sitting around like a bump on a log, even when our own children are caught up, we often do nothing. Most fathers don't bother to visit their children in juvenile hall, jails and prisons. Thank God for praying mothers, wives and girlfriends.



National issues require a national response. There are no individual solutions to our problems, they are too pervasive, a full blown pandemic, whether political, economic, educational, psychological, spiritual and cultural. The situation is dire in every sphere, We want to Nick pick and cherry pick, ambulance chase, a mode of eternal reaction rather than pro action to attack the general condition that results from submission to the slave system. We are simply addicted to white supremacy in all its manifestations. Please rush to a White Supremacy Detox and Recovery Center.



We see people around the world are sacrificing everything, including their lives, to be free once and for all times, not a shame freedom, not the stupor of neo-colonialism wherein stunted men and women reign supreme.



We can do better, we can configure a way out of this eternal hostility, this symbiotic relationship wherein we suffer to the point of death. Cast away illusions and stand tall. Think and envision a better way, a way that would please our ancestors and God as well.




--Marvin X




5/30/11

Memorial Day and Black Liberation Vets, Ancestors













































































































































































Memorial Day, 2007
I am a veteran
Not of foreign battlefields
Like my father in world war one
My uncles in world war two
And Korea
Or my friends from Vietnam
And even the Congo “police action”
But veteran none the less
Exiled and jailed because I refused
To visit Vietnam as a running dog for imperialism
So I visited Canada , Mexico and Belize
Then Federal prison for a minute
But veteran I am of the war in the hood
The war of domestic colonialism and neo-colonialism
White supremacy in black face war
Fighting for black power that turned white
Or was always white as in the other white people
So war it was and is
Every day without end no RR no respite just war
For colors like kindergarten children war
For turf warriors don’t own and run when popo comes
War for drugs and guns and women
War for hatred jealousy
Dante got a scholarship but couldn’t get on the plane
The boyz in the hood met him on the block and jacked him
Relieved him of his gear shot him in the head because he could read
Play basketball had all the pretty girls a square
The boyz wanted him dead like themselves
Wanted him to have a shrine with liquor bottles and teddy bears
And candles
Wanted his mama and daddy to weep and mourn at the funeral
Like all the other moms and dads and uncle aunts cousins
Why should he make it out the war zone
The blood and broken bones of war in the hood
No veterans day no benefits no mental health sessions
No conversation who cares who wants to know about the dead
In the hood
the warriors gone down in the ghetto night
We heard the Uzi at 3am and saw the body on the steps until 3 pm
When the coroner finally arrived as children passed from school

I am the veteran of ghetto wars of liberation that were aborted
And morphed into wars of self destruction
With drugs supplied from police vans
Guns diverted from the army base and sold 24/7 behind the Arab store.
Junior is 14 but the main arms merchant in the hood
He sells guns from his backpack
His daddy wants to know how he get all them guns
But Junior don’t tell cause he warrior
He’s lost more friends than I the elder
What can I tell him about death and blood and bones
He says he will get rich or die trying
But life is for love not money
And if he lives he will learn.
If he makes it out the war zone to another world
Where they murder in suits and suites
And golf courses and yachts
if he makes it even beyond this world
He will learn that love is better than money
For he was once on the auction block and sold as a thing
For money, yes, for the love of money but not for love
And so his memory is short and absent of truth
The war in the hood has tricked him into the slave past
Like a programmed monkey he acts out the slave auction
The sale of himself on the corner with his homeys
Trying to pose cool in the war zone
I will tell him the truth and maybe one day it will hit him like a bullet
In the head
It will hit him multiple times in the brain until he awakens to the real battle
In the turf of his mind.
And he will stand tall and deliver himself to the altar of truth to be a witness
Along with his homeys
They will take charge of their posts
They will indeed claim their turf and it will be theirs forever
Not for a moment in the night
But in the day and in the tomorrows
And the war will be over
No more sorrow no more blood and bones
No more shrines on the corner with liquor bottles teddy bears and candles.
--Marvin X
25 May 2007
Brooklyn NY

Tukey's Rise in the Middle East

Turkey's diplomatic rise - Opinion - Al Jazeera English

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Happy Birthday, Dad!


Happy Birthday, Dad!!!!!!!!!!

by Nefertiti Jackmon, Daughter

As much as you are celebrating a new day, I cannot help but to hear the pain of the possibility of death. Life and death exist as one and the same of two continuum's. I thank you for being an example of one who lives out passionately what he believes in and loves.


My prayer for you today, is that you love yourself as much as you have given life to your writings. It is time to love the pain, hurt, guilt and regret away. You've done what you have done. You've caught up, I pray on what needs to be said. I know that as life continues to unfold their will be more to say, but when do you find time to love, truly? Not a love out of passion, lust, but a love that is inspiring, less based on lust, but based on compatibility and learning how to give what you've been unable to give before. A love that is unconditional, where you give in and embrace the other and you look back and be proud of what you have done, so that you have room to love, and love is not pushed away and put on the back burner. This is a holistic love born out of all of the knowledge of what you've learned about mind, body and soul. It doesn't look like all of the other relationships. This is a new love, not only for woman, but for man, and for yourself.

I thank you for enriching my life with the knowledge that I have, about myself, my people and my history. As much as I have been proud to give credit to all that my mother had invested in me, I realize that I am a beautiful reflection of the two of you, and I love and embrace who I am. I thank you for the beautiful people that I have met through you which have helped to constantly expand the power of my influence and my knowledge.

Although we are far away, I bless you and I thank you on this day and I pray that you will continue to manifest all of the spiritual beauty that is still remaining to come forth from a man who is seeking to be all that God desires of you. With each waking day, it is a reminder that you are still here to grow and not wither. Grow.

Oh What a Night - The Dells

R.Kelly Radio Message(OFFICIAL VIDEO) with lyrics

US 'should stay' in Afghanistan past 2014 - Opinion - Al Jazeera English

US 'should stay' in Afghanistan past 2014 - Opinion - Al Jazeera English

US 'should stay' in Afghanistan past 2014 - Opinion - Al Jazeera English

US 'should stay' in Afghanistan past 2014 - Opinion - Al Jazeera English

Love Letters to Marvin X on his 67th Birthday

Love Letters to Marvin X on his 67th Birthday



Ayodele Nzinga
"Knowing you know it's never the destination, it's always the journey; you must admit it's been one hella of a trip. I love you and can't wait to see what's next. Keep hitting 'em Baba and maybe they will wake up, if not they can't blame you. You over tried. Blessings and wishes for as many more as you can stand here with us negroes your mama told you to leave alone. We are all so much richer because you are hardheaded. One,"

Raushanah LilShauny Bashir

Happy birthday Sir. May God bless every bone, limb, muscle, and brain stem in your body. . . . .you are a walking miracle. don't take that lightly. Prayers and love sent to your heart and well-being. enjoy your day
Nefertiti Jackmon, Daughter

As much as you are celebrating a new day, I cannot help but to hear the pain of the possibility of death. Life and death exist as one and the same of two continuum's. I thank you for being an example of one who lives out passionately what he believes in and loves.


My prayer for you today, is that you love yourself as much as you have given life to your writings. It is time to love the pain, hurt, guilt and regret away. You've done what you have done. You've caught up, I pray on what needs to be said. I know that as life continues to unfold their will be more to say, but when do you find time to love, truly? Not a love out of passion, lust, but a love that is inspiring, less based on lust, but based on compatibility and learning how to give what you've been unable to give before. A love that is unconditional, where you give in and embrace the other and you look back and be proud of what you have done, so that you have room to love, and love is not pushed away and put on the back burner. This is a holistic love born out of all of the knowledge of what you've learned about mind, body and soul. It doesn't look like all of the other relationships. This is a new love, not only for woman, but for man, and for yourself.

I thank you for enriching my life with the knowledge that I have, about myself, my people and my history. As much as I have been proud to give credit to all that my mother had invested in me, I realize that I am a beautiful reflection of the two of you, and I love and embrace who I am. I thank you for the beautiful people that I have met through you which have helped to constantly expand the power of my influence and my knowledge.

Although we are far away, I bless you and I thank you on this day and I pray that you will continue to manifest all of the spiritual beauty that is still remaining to come forth from a man who is seeking to be all that God desires of you. With each waking day, it is a reminder that you are still here to grow and not wither. Grow.

Raymond Nat Turner






"When I grow up I wanna be starvin' like @[1166896430:2048:Marvin]—Happy Birthday and best wishes for many, many more... "

Dion E. Evans












"Happy Birthday bro! Keep writing...one day they will get it!"




Jeanie Tracy












"Have a Fantastic Birthday Marv...enjoy.

Ayodele Nzinga

Dear Baba,

Happy Solar return.



I wish you all of everything that makes us grow.

I am grateful that we met & more grateful
you have taken the time to help me grow.

I wish you many more years to shine forth.

Promize Capone posted on your Wall.











"Happy Cake day My Black Brother
Kiwi Da Beast Of Livewire Records]"





Paradise Free Jahlove












"HAPPY BEARTHDAY TO THE 67 STAR SENIOR GENERAL GOD POET KING!"



James Moore Jr.











"Happy Birthday Brother Marvin."


'Adeeb Shabazz












"Happy B'day Marvin X, my fellow Gemini, fellow writer, fellow enlightener. Peace be upon you this day, and many days to come."

Mxolisi T. Sowell












"Furaha kwa siku ya kuzaliwa! (Joy! for the day of your birth!) Ankh, Udja, Seneb!"



Oshun Bey












"Happy Bearthday to ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ YOU♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ Happy Bearthday to♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪YOU ♥ ♥ ♥ Happy Bearthday dear♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ Marvin X! ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪... Happy Bearthday to YOU!♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪...and many more! Love and Light!!!!! praying that the day is filled with all you need!"

Ser Seshs Ab Heter-Boxley












"Marvin! Gil is gone but we got you and his recordings! This must make your anniversary of being earthed really special!"

Mical Free












"happi birthday mr.x! thx. for your all!"




Bc Martin












"Happy Birthday Brother X. May the muse be with you."




Kenneth Monteiro












"Happy Birthday, keep being your creative and conscious self."



Rudolph Lewis












"Happy birthday Marvin. May you have many more. Loving you madly, Rudy "


Kim McMillon












"Happy Birthday, Marvin. Beautiful photo on your profile. Keep up the music with words."

Norman K. Brown












"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Brother Marvin, Have a Great weekend. "


Sam Hamod












"hey marvin, we dont' believe in calendars, as u know, everyday is a "birthday" so have another good one, salaam, sam 5.29.11 a.m."


Zayid Muhammad












"happy birthday to the original shocka rocka!"

Kwasi Akyeampong












"(¯`*•.(¯`*•.¸ Thanks for being here. Thanks for the difference you make. Happy Birthday

As I Consider My Life at 67



As I consider my life at 67, it's clear to me that I've done everything I wanted to do, written everything I wanted to write, said everything I wanted to say, and had all the beautiful, intelligent women in my life that any man could want. I've had all the dope any fool could want. I never made much money, so at this point I don't desire much. In short, today I live for my children, grandchildren and my people, the wretched of the earth.


I am happy with the knowledge I have more friends than enemies. I would be quite satisfied to go into silence, but for the people, I must continue ranting in the wilderness. My precious muse, Fahizah Alim, said it best, "Muhajir, you are the voice of the Black Man whose cry has been muffled by the clank of prison bars, the explosion of gunfire and the loud silence of apathy and compliance."
--Marvin X, May 29, 2011

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Gil Scott-Heron Joins Ancestors


Gil Scott-Heron was the bridge between The Black Arts Movement and Hip Hop. Surely we are from Allah and to Him we return.
--Marvin X

Gil Scott-Heron dies aged 62

Poet and songwriter was hailed as 'Godfather of Rap' after penning The Revolution Will Not Be Televised


David Sharrock
guardian.co.uk, Saturday 28 May 2011

Gil Scott-Heron, the poet and musician regarded as the 'Godfather of Rap', has died in New York.

The musician and poet Gil Scott-Heron – best known for his pioneering rap The Revolution Will Not Be Televised – has died at the age of 62, having fallen ill after a European trip.

Jamie Byng, his UK publisher, announced the news via Twitter: "Just heard the very sad news that my dear friend and one of the most inspiring people I've ever met, the great Gil Scott-Heron, died today."

Scott-Heron's spoken word recordings helped shape the emerging hip-hop culture. Generations of rappers cite his work as an influence.

He was known as the Godfather of Rap but disapproved of the title, preferring to describe what he did as "bluesology" – a fusion of poetry, soul, blues and jazz, all shot through with a piercing social conscience and strong political messages, tackling issues such as apartheid and nuclear arms.

"If there was any individual initiative that I was responsible for it might have been that there was music in certain poems of mine, with complete progression and repeating 'hooks', which made them more like songs than just recitations with percussion," Scott-Heron wrote in the introduction to his 1990 Now and Then collection of poems.

He was best known for The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, the critically acclaimed recording from his first album Small Talk at 125th and Lenox, and for his collaborations with jazz/funk pianist and flautist Brian Jackson.

In The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, first recorded in 1970, he issued a fierce critique of the role of race in the mass media and advertising age. "The revolution will not be right back after a message about a white tornado, white lightning or white people," he sang.

He performed at the No Nukes concerts, held in 1979 at Madison Square Garden. The concerts were organised by a group called Musicians United for Safe Energy and protested against the use of nuclear energy following the meltdown at Three Mile Island. The group included singer-songwriters such as Jackson Browne, Graham Nash and Bonnie Raitt.

Scott-Heron's song We Almost Lost Detroit, written about a previous accident at a nuclear power plant, is sampled on rapper Kanye West's single The People. Scott-Heron's 2010 album, I'm New Here, was his first new studio release in 16 years and was hailed by critics. The album's first song, On Coming From a Broken Home, is an ode to his maternal grandmother, Lillie, who raised him in Jackson, Tennessee, until her death when he was 13. He moved to New York after that.

Scott-Heron was HIV positive and battled drug addiction through most of his career. He spent a year and a half in prison for possession. In a 2009 interview he said that his jail term had forced him to confront the reality of his situation.

"When you wake up every day and you're in the joint, not only do you have a problem but you have a problem with admitting you have a problem." Yet in spite of some "unhappy moments" in the past few years he still felt the need to challenge rights abuses and "the things that you pay for with your taxes".

"If the right of free speech is truly what it's supposed to be, then anything you say is all right."

Scott-Heron's friend Doris Nolan said the musician had died at St Luke's hospital on Friday afternoon. "We're all sort of shattered," she told the Associated Press.

Friday, May 27, 2011


Parable of the Poor Righteous Teacher




for Haki Madhubuti (Don L. Lee)

Sooner or later, they always come for the teacher. After all, the more popular, the more dangerous. The more serious and sincere, the more a threat to the bourgeoisie whose philosophy is do nothing, say nothing, know nothing. Thus, the serious teacher has no seat at the table. Yes, he is tolerated for a time, maybe a long time, but the plot was hatched the first day he arrived to teach, when the contract was signed, his doom was sealed.

No matter what chairs he established, no matter how many institutions he created in the name of God. The bourgeoisie care nothing for God, only as a cover for their filthy behavior in the dark, their winking and blinking at the water hole.

The teacher must know absolutely if he is on his job he won't have a job, for no matter how many years he gives of his soul, his mental genius, he is not wanted. No matter how many students he is able to raise from the box, his services are not wanted.

The bourgeoisie do not want Jack out of the box, this must be understood. They prefer Jack and Jackie stay confined and proscribed in the box of ignorance. They are mere pawns in the game of chance the bourgeoisie play until they are removed from power, after they steal all they can, when the coffers are empty, the institution bankrupt and they are under indictment.

Now they will never put down their butcher knives, never turn into Buddha heads. This is why one must practice eternal vigilance with them. They are planning and plotting the demise of the poor righteous teachers at every turn.

So the teacher must teach his students about power, but when he does, his exit papers are signed. He may not know this. He may believe he has friends on the board of trustees, but he is only fooling himself. He is a starry eyed idealist, a dreamer, who shall be awakened from his dream one day for sure. And on that day he shall find his office door locked. His classroom door secured by a guard. His students transferred to other colleagues he thought were with him. But they will only say to him, "Sorry, brother."
--Marvin X
4/5/10

Parable of the Parot


Parable of the Parrot by Marvin X




for Ngugi Wa Thiong'o and the Pan African Revolution


The king wanted parrots around him. He wants all his ministers to wear parrot masks. He said he had to do the same for the previous king. He only said what the king wanted to hear, nothing more, so he advised his ministers to do the same. In fact, they must encourage the people to become parrots.

Yes, he wanted a nation of parrots. Don't say anything the kings does not want to hear. Everything said should be music to his ears. And don't worry, he will tell you exactly what he wants to hear in his regular meetings and public addresses to the nation. Everyone will be kept informed what parrot song to sing. No one must be allowed to disagree with the king. This would be sacrilegious and punishable by death.

The king must be allowed to carry out the dreams that come to his head. No one else should dream, only the king. In this manner, according to the king, the people can make real progress. There shall always be ups and downs, but have faith in the king and everything will be all right. Now everyone sing the national anthem, the king told the people.

There must be a chorus of parrots, a choir, mass choir singing in perfect unity. Let there be parrots on every corner of the kingdom, in every branch and tree. Let all the boys sing like parrots in the beer halls. Let the preacher lead the congregation in parrot songs. Let the teachers train students to sound like parrots. Let the university professors give good grades to those who best imitate parrot sounds. Let the journalists allow no stories over the airwaves and in print if they do not have the parrot sound.

The king was happy when the entire nation put on their parrot masks. Those who refused suffered greatly until they agreed to join in. The state academics and intellectuals joined loudly in parroting the king's every wish. Thank God the masses do not hear them pontificate or read their books. After all, these intellectual and academic parrots are well paid, tenured and eat much parrot seed.

Their magic song impresses the bourgeoisie who have a vested interest in keeping the song of the parrot alive. Deep down in the hood, in the bush, the parrot song is seldom heard, only the sound of the hawk gliding through the air in stone silence looking for a parrot to eat.




--Marvin X 4/5/10

Fable of the Rooster and the Hen





Fable of the Rooster and the Hen
for Jah Amiel, James, Jazmin,
Jordan, Mahadevi, Kevin,
and you



There was a farm that had many chickens and roosters. One rooster used to control his many hens with an iron fist and he made the sound of the rooster to let others roosters know not to mess with his hens. He roared and cockadoddledoed early in the morning to signal dawn of the new day. And he cockadoodledoed throughout the day, strutting around the yard with his hens well under control, standing guard when they were laying eggs, especially when he found the door of the big house open and one of his favorites would lay her eggs on the couch in the living room of the big house.



The rooster would not go inside but stand in the doorway so he could watch both ways, inside the house and outside. If the farm lady would not come into the house and chase the hen outside, the hen would stay until she laid her egg, then she and the rooster would go down the steps and back into the yard, joining the other roosters, hens and baby chicks.

There were other fowl on the farm too: turkeys, ducks, guineas, peacocks, doves, and pigeons.
One day, after the farm lady got some special feed from the store and tried a little out on the rooster, he no longer could make the sound of the rooster. The other fowl were surprised when they heard rooster sounding like a hen and no longer making the sound of the mighty rooster. They all laughed at the rooster and thought he had gone crazy. What the hell is wrong with you, rooster, they asked. They figured maybe the farm lady had given him some special food to make him sound different. They were happy she didn't give them the feed she gave the poor rooster, who looked so pitiful and sounded even worse.

They knew something had changed him and he started not only sounding like a hen but acting like one as well. He made every attempt to act like he was laying eggs, although he wasn't able to lay any, still he put on a show for everyone on the farm who gathered around to see him play the role of a hen. Other rooster's would even stand guard while he pretended to lay eggs, though he couldn't, it was just an act and they went along with it just to please him.

He no longer strutted about like a rooster but like a hen. They called him a freak and made fun of him until he couldn't take it anymore and asked the farm lady to give him some better food so he could sound and act like a rooster again.

She honored his request, telling him she was trying out some new feed and didn't think it would completely alter his behavior, she told him she was sorry, and she would never give him that feed and special water again. The feed store had told her to try it out, but she would not bring anymore to the farm. The rooster was happy to return to his true self and make the sound of a rooster. The hens gathered around him again and the other fowl danced they were so happy to see he was a rooster again and not a hen.

--Marvin X

3/5/10

Parable of the Gangsta




Parable of the Gangsta

He wanted to be a gansta since childhood. He watched his big brothers gang banging, in and out of prison, the funerals, parties with more wine than they had at the Last Supper.

Females were always on hand serving the brothers, raising their babies, visiting them in jail and prison. Big cars, flashy clothes, bling bling, the little brother watched and waited his turn.

When it was time for him to join, he got ready for the initiation. On that day he was required to kill and rape. He was ready. No matter his mother was a hard working house cleaner who took the bus to work. She wanted none of her children's ill gotten gain. She was a Christian woman who tried to get him into college, rather than go the path of her other sons.

But he had other plans. He didn't want to be a square. He hated squares. They were, in his mind, suckers for the white man. He saw them with their suits and ties and brief cases, thinking they were all that and a bag of chips.

He saw them in the dope house coping, along with their square girls. When the girls got sprung, they would leave the square nigguhs for the dope man. He watched the square brothers get broke and turn tricks with the dope man in front of their women.

He vowed to his dead gangsta brothers he would not be a square, but would be like them, even though they didn't want him to end up like them, in prison or a coffin early in life.

Thursdays was gang initiation night in the hood. Most people stayed off the street on Thursdays, unless people got off work late and had to walk home. Anyone could be a victim if caught on the street. He drove around looking for a victim, not far from his house. It didn't matter who it was.

On a dim lighted street he saw a woman and snatched her onto the ground, tearing off her clothes. She screamed and yelled but he didn't care, especially since he was loaded on dope and out of his mind. He didn't bother to look at the woman's face as he raped her.

When he finished he turned her around and got the shock of his life. She was his mother! He ran to his car in shame and horror.
When he got home he took out his gun and shot himself in the head and fell to the floor dead. He was now a gangsta.

-
-Marvin X 3/11/10


Based on a true story.

Parable of the Pit Bull


Parable of the Pit Bull


There was a pit bull who lived in the city. A man wanted to buy him and raise him for protection, so he met with the owner and got the pedigree. He investigated the history of the dog and his family connections, to make sure he was a pure bred. Once he was clear the pit bull came from a legit line, he paid for the animal and brought it home. He was happy to have a nice pet, especially one so pure and not polluted like a mutt, a cross breed or mongrel, a mutation whose DNA was of questionable nature.

He loved his pit bull and the animal loved him. He trained the dog for fighting, and he was a great fighter, a champion who won many battles.

And then the man met a woman he really liked. He knew almost nothing about her, but he hooked up with her and eventually she moved in with him. He didn't know where she came from, nothing about her family roots, her friends, her education and work history, whether she was psychotic and/or neurotic, suicidal and/or homicidal, whether she was radical, revolutionary or reactionary.

He didn't know she had been raised in a foster home, and later an orphanage, that she had seen her mother stab her grandmother, that her mother had a nervous breakdown and was confined to an institution for life. He didn't know any of this. He didn't know she had been a prostitute, homeless and a drug addict.

But he loved her and married her. And when he found out about her past life, he didn't give a damn. Since he was rich, a baller, big willie, he gave her the best of everything, just as he treated his pit bull, even better. He dressed her in the finest clothes and took her to eat in the finest restaurants and party in the VIP section of clubs.

And then one day she disappeared. He didn't know what happened to her. Worried to death, he hired a private investigator to search for her. The private eye found her in a two dollar motel with a trick.
The man told the private eye not to disturb her, leave her where she was.
--Marvin X