Saturday, October 23, 2021

Walkin' Revolution by El Muhajir/Marvin X

 Sent: Saturday, October 23, 2021, 05:19:16 PM PDT

Subject: Walking Revolution


Marvin X reading at the University of Chicago Sun Ra Conference, performing with members of the Sun Ra Arkestra, under the direction of Marshall Allen. Sun Ra is the undisputed Father of Afro-futurism, Octavia Butler, the Mother. Marvin X's classic myth-ritual is Resurrection of the Dead, based on the myth of Osiris, drafted at the New Lafayette Theatre in Harlem and produced in San Francisco at Marvin's Black Educational Theatre, the off campus classroom of his drama class at UC Berkeley, 1972.
photo Burrell Sunrise


Walking  N Revolution 

Ancestor  Dr. John Henrik Clark taught us Revolution is not s sprint but a long distance run. He added that we would  not reach the finish line without high consciousness and high morals.As per high consciousness,  Ancestor Fidel Castro said, "The weapons of today are not gus but consciousness!" Ironically,  the satanic globalists have informed us gus need not be utilized: chemical and germ warfare will suffice,  along with the monkey mind fake news propaganda machines of Hollywood and the toxic technology shaman who rule Facebook, Twitter and Instagram,  et al.

The resultant creation of the desired trans--human zombies will be achieved without one bullet. The cell phone is clear evidence the zombie has arrived and human touch, feelings, emotions have vanished. Alas, texting has replaced human speech, even the text linguistics is sub English 1A,e.g., DUM, BTW, CU,OMG, WTF, 4sure, etc.

But if we can summon that ineluctable revolutionary energy the great Pan African revolutionary Jan Carew told me about as he and Canada's greatest Black  novelist, Austin C. Clarke,  mentored me during my Toronto, Canada exile, 1967, when I refused to be a running dog for American imperialism in Vietnam, we may often find ourselves slowing down from the long distance run to a slow walk as we make revolution. When confronted with the cries of the oppressed, we may be commanded to halt to listen to their cries as they scream and demand we look into their dreary eyes, yes, eyeball to eyeball, literally.  

Today, on the 55th Anniversary Celebration of the Black Panther Party, a seasoned revolutionary came upon me as I passed out my latest magazine Black Street, a publication for Black Street Vendors in the Bay or nation-wide for that matter since Oakland is known for sending its radical energy coast to coast and worldwide as the Black Panther Party did. The brother I knew as a Communist, confessed he'd fallen victim to alcoholism and was in recovery. I tried to tell him I practice harm reduction as per alcohol and drugs, but if I could only practice harm reduction with my diet, my family and friends would surely sigh in relief at any reduction of my obesity, mainly due to laziness. The Honorable Elijah Muhammad taught us our greatest problem is laziness, for which he proscribed us a prayer to say seven times daily.

But because the brother wanted me to listen to his pain, I could hardly get a word in, and he acknowledged his domination of the conversation but I knew the drill so I continued listening to his pain. He asked if I was aware that one of our great revolutionary theoreticians had joined the ancestors, Lil' Joe Johnson. I said yes, Lil' Joe was one my students from Los Angeles who supported my fight to teach black studies at Fresno State University, 1969, and who also came to support me trial in San Francisco Federal Court for refusing to fight in Vietnam. Lil' Joe's revolutionary literary criticism enlightened me as per my writings on the Mythology of Pussy and Dick, especially my essay The Maid, the Ho, the Cook in The Crazy House Called America, essays: "The Maid, the HO', the Cook was one of the most beautiful pieces about real love I've ever read. The image of 'crack-heads' as scandalous and without human dignity is destroyed by Marvin's recollection of this sister with whom he fell in love." But shortly before he joined the ancestors, he emailed me to suggest I publish a collection of my revolutionary poems. When I replied there are those who have been long awaiting a collection of my love poems, Lil' said forget the love poems, publish the revolutionary poems. My friend agree on Lil' Joe's extreme dogmatism and said they had fell out because of his devotion to the revisionist ideology of Leon Trotsky as opposed to the orthodoxy of Stalinism. As my friend was of the orthodox Marxist-Leninist ideological persuasion, he admitted he and Lil' Joe parted, no less similar than the sectarian differences between the Islamic Sunni and Shia sects. Trotsky was assassinated during his exile in Mexico City. 

As I listened to his ideological differences with Lil' Joe, about which I cared nothing about the dogmatism of Marxist-Leninists, I loved Lil' Joe and I told my friend I was going to dedicate a book of my revolutionary poems to Lil' Joe. I don't think my friend heard a word I said so lost in his chemical and ideological addictions. But I told him to keep walking with me as I distributed my magazine, then after a while I told him to sit down with me at an empty table and we continued our conversation. 

He told me he had moved to Los Angeles and moved into the house of his father that was rent free. He got on social security and that's when the alcoholism began. He later informed me his wife moved into his father's house with him but soon departed, but not before letting him know she appreciated him for their beautiful son who was playing sax with a band as we conversed. I knew their son and he is indeed a beautiful young revolutionary brother. 

So we see revolution is a walk, sometimes, rather than the long distance run, and most certainly not a sprint. 

Although I desire to end this narrative here or proceed to relate more of the conversation that continued, the Holy Spirit compels me to inform you that before I even departed my vehicle to attend this historic event, Mama C passed by so I gave out copies of Black Street to her and her entourage, although I know her and her husband exiled in Tanzania. Then another comrade came to the driver side of my car and began talking to me--yes, before I couldn't depart for my revolutionary walk that I've described above. We have a mutual artistic friend that called me a few days ago to inform me I was out of line for putting his name on a program, as I am known to do, yes, I often draft people for my events and they often react as he did, "Marvin, can you call me first, you know I will do anything for you, you know I am with you 100%, but can you please call me first before you put my name all over the internet?" Now those of you who know me know the artist's request is too much for Marvin X to do, even though it is the right thing to do in the professional world, but Marvin lives in his world, some world beyond that of his most sacred friends: Sun Ra, Amiri Baraka, Sonia Sanchez, Nikki Giovanni, Last Poets, Haki Madhubuti, et al.

But the friend with his elbow resting on the car and the bag of Black Panther groceries Marvin told him to sit on the hood of car, began to tell the poet of their mutual friend's trauma and how pervasive and toxic it was. The friend sad their mutual friend was almost totally out of his mind in grief and trauma at the loss of his partner and. another person. Marvin, the friend at the car said, "Marvin, our friend is almost totally out of his mind, he is overwhelmed with grief. Even though he has known you for decades, he talks to me the same way and I have been accommodating him during his grief. He talks to me as if I am his enemy, WTF, I'm driving him around as he is in no condition to drive. Marvin X, I'm driving him in the same condition you're in, I'm driving with one eye too. We both half blind, Marvin, but we trying to do all we can do.

Hell, I put his name out there for us to do a concert that I will produce and pay the other musicians I want to perform with me: Violinist Tarika Lewis and Harpist Destiny Muhammad. 

My people, let us walk together in the name of freedom, national liberation, reparations, sovereignty. No matter our mental and/or physical disparities, did not Dr. Frantz Fanon tell you the only way the wretched of the earth can regain their mental equilibrium is through the process of revolution. And I shall repeat the words of John Henrik Clarke, Fidel Castro, et al., alas, Sun Ra taught discipline, not freedom, discipline. Sun Ra told me to stop teaching my actors and dancers freedom, teach them discipline. "Marvin X, don't you see your actors and dancers are free, they were born free so teach them what I teach my musicians, discipline.... When they come to me after a night with their woman and want money for breakfast, I tell them to go back where they were last night and get breakfast money!"

Didn't MLK, Jr. say, "Walk together children, don't get weary..."?
--continued-

--El Muhajir/Marvin X
10/23/21 

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