Monday, July 14, 2014

Seattle: the Human Earthquake Hit on Schedule, 3pm, Saturday, July 12

somehow Netanyahu appeals to the weakness in Obama, each is a devil in his own way, smiling, telling lies, smiling, telling everyone, it’s o.k. they are only doing what they have to do to preserve peace, to protect their people, to stop terrorism, as their rockets slam into children, into hospitals, into mothers and fathers, helpless to stop the carnage, but they go on, and the blondes on American t.v. keep smiling, and talking about the weather, about jayz and bouncy beyonce, or the world soccer championships, as if beyonce, soccer, jayz, obama’s iftar dinner for muslims at the blackened white house is important, giving another check to Netanyahu for $4 billion dollars, smiling, as they lie again, as they hold each other’s balls in their hands, praising each other for their manhood, just like hitler and Goebbels, the same, even honest jews are appalled, ashamed, one went so far as to say, mr. kaufman, a british jewish mp, said, “Israel is like hitler who killed my grandmother in her bed in Germany,” so it goes on minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day, but we know, it is only a matter of time before the people in france, in England, in America, in Canada decide to rebel, and then the bloodbaths will come, and it will not be shown on t.v., as gil scott-heron said in the 1980s, “the revolution will not be televised,” but it will be bloody and that is the only way the devils can be stopped.

© sam hamod, 7.14.14

After stopping downtown Seattle for breakfast, I came upon a Muslim rally protesting the latest escalation of  genocide in Gaza. I have always supported the liberation of Palestine, so I was happy to join the protest of the Gaza concentration camp.

After awhile, I left the rally to catch the bus to my reading/book-signing at the Life Enrichment Bookstore on Rainer Ave. South. Guests were served a delicious meal of chicken, rice and salad, the human earthquake began his talk.

After addressing the audience for two hours on the process of establishing a mental health peer group to recover from the addiction to white supremacy, the human earthquake concluded his talk due to the extreme heat of the day, after all, he was drenching with sweat, his shirt soaking wet. His host had provided him with a cold towel which he used to wipe his face throughout his talk.

 Human Earthquake Marvin X hits  Seattle WA at Life Enrichment Bookstore,
Saturday, July 12, 2014

Seattle hosts, bookstore owner Vickie (yellow blouse) and audience members at the Human Earthquake reading/signing

He concluded his talk with questions and answers. A man asked what he thought about Seattle? Marvin X replied, "Well, as per the addiction to white supremacy, the irony is that in Seattle the Blacks are white and the Whites are black!

Surely, those who know Seattle, know full well the racial paradigm is of mixed breed. One can see whites walking with black babies and Blacks walking with white babies. True dat! But check this out. One can hear jazz music everywhere, on the elevator in Macy's, Norstroms, etc. This is a hip city.

A mental health worker asked, "Mr. X, you said the Black psychologists are trying to get certified in African holistic healing methods. How does one go about that and still be certified in white supremacy healing? You can contact the National Association of Black Psychologists, but I don't think the white supremacy boards of certification give a damn about African holistic methods as per the recovery of North American Africans from the ravages of white supremacy Type II."

Marvin X's oldest sister, Donna Jackmon Hart, oldest of his six sisters. Their mother, Marian M. Jackmon, gave birth to nine children, six females and three males, Marvin is the second oldest. The oldest is Ollie, a year older. Ollie was a part of Black history. He was in prison during the time of George Jackson, Eldridge Cleaver, and Sundiata Willie Tate of the San Quentin Six. Sundiata Tate told Marvin a few years ago, "Man, the last time I saw your brother, Ollie, was in San Quentin, 1968.

Marvin's sister Donna wasn't sure there was air conditioning so she didn't make it. Big Sis was right, there were only a couple of fans and Marvin cut short his lecture because of the heat. By the time he ended his lecture, he was sweating like James Brown. But his sister told her white friend to attend and she told Donna about it. Donna texted her brother, "The lady said you're a powerful speaker and you enlightened her about whites and blacks, so kudos to you!"

Donna was a witness to Black history: she worked at the poverty program where Bobby Seale and Huey Newton worked when they formed the Black Panther Party. She remembers when Little Bobby Hutton was recruited at the office. As we know, little Bobby became the third member of the BPP at sixteen. Donna also remembers being introduced to LeRoi Jones, aka Amiri Baraka, by her brother, circa 1965.

Uncle Marvin X and his Seattle nephews who hosted the event and are planning for their uncle's return
ASAP. Marvin wants to bring his BAM 27 City tour to Seattle and the northwest, including Tacoma WA and Portland ORE.

More Notes on Sleepless in Seattle

I took Amtrak to Seattle WA, wanted to enjoy the slow (24 hours) ride from Cali to the Northwest, see the mountains, valleys, green trees, meditate on the beauty of life and nature. It was summer so there was no snow in the Cascade Mountains. The only snow was on Mount Rainer as the train finally neared Seattle. Remember Rainer Ale, we used to call it Green Death. As a teenager in Fresno CA, my closet was full of empty quart bottles of Rainer Ale. Mama said, boy, why don't you get them bottles out your closet!

My host, Hakeem,  picked me up at the Amtrak station. He is  my nephew who is a husband and father with five children, two recently adopted, a worker who is trying to do consciousness raising projects.

He took me to my lodging and we agreed to hook up the next day to promote my reading and book signing.

Donna has a vivid imagination in the oral tradition. She could sell you the Brooklyn Bridge any day of the week. And you would be convinced she gave you a valid bill of sale, authentic title.

Early the next day I hooked up with my sister Donna, oldest of my six sisters (I also have  two brothers, one a year older, Ollie, and one younger than myself, Tommy). Donna drove me around so I could reorient myself with Seattle, Capital Hill, Central District, West Seattle, South, etc. We went by Pike's Market, famous for "flying fish". I used to hustle the homeless paper there at twenty dollars per.

Up the street at 3rd and Pine was McDonalds, used to be and still is the dope spot. But the entire area near Pike's Market is dope fiend heaven, known for heroin, meth, crack, weed, whatever. I set up Academy of da Corner in front of McDonalds, the meeting place for Africans in Seattle, let us say, Africans of the lower class, or perhaps dope dealers, dope fiends and hustlers. The sidewalk was grimy as  the streets of San Francisco's Tenderloin, even the windows of Mac looked dark and grimy, like soul food cafes used to look, you know dirty windows certify  Soulfulness! Food tastes better with dirty windows, right?

I passed out promo cards to the Africans. Immediately, I saw the addiction to white supremacy Type I and II. The blacks were hesitant about taking a card, the whites wanted to see what I was passing out. In short, the Northwest is a flip of the racial order: whites want to be black and blacks want to be white! But you know how I do things with my aggressive style. "Here, man, take the card!" A brother took a card after I forced him, then read it and came back to tell me, "Thank you man for making me take the card. I'm coming. See you tomorrow!" I laughed and said, "Be there or be square!"

The wheelers and dealers at 3rd and Pine were unbothered by the many police present, yes, the boyz and girls from the hood have a symbiotic relationship with popo. Call it survival, everybody does their job in a kind of dance drama. There is no interaction except when necessary. So the dealers and addicts do their thing and the police do theirs. The police said nothing to me but nodded as they passed on their bikes. It was a very hot day so everybody was out and about the streets in the 90 degree weather, I especially liked looking at the girls in their cut off jeans. Some people took the promo card, some did not, some simply were not interested, too busy doing their thang, getting their smoke on, pills, who knows, anything to escape the black poverty of the mind, body and spirit. Much like San Francisco's Tenderloin, this downtown area of Seattle is a space where the poor gather to catch busses cross town, and yet in one direction is Pike's Market, Nordstrom, Macy's and other stores in the rich shopping district, a clear demarcation line between poverty and wealth.

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