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

Parable of a Real Woman



Parable of A Real Woman



There was a man who had many women in his life. They had come and gone, with himself at fault most of the time. But he wouldn't give up, he continued his self improvement and search for that special woman. He talked with elder women about what he should do. One told him he'd never had a real woman! If so, she would still be with him, no matter what, through thick and thin, up times and down times. Well, he asked, how would he know when such a woman was in his presence. First, clean up your own act, she said. Scoop your own poop. Rid yourself of defects of character. Make amendments to all those you have harmed in life. It takes humility to do this.

Still, how will I know the real woman? The older woman answered, you will know because when she comes over your house and sees something amiss, she will take authority to correct the situation. If your house is dirty, she will immediately ask if she can clean it as a favor to you, as an act of love. She will not want any money for her services. And she will clean your house as it has never been cleaned before because she knows what she is doing. Yes, she is a pro, not only with house cleaning but with every thing she does, including her love making. She will make sure you are satisfied and herself as well.

She will demand respect and will respect you. She will demand freedom and give you freedom. She will speak in the language of love so smooth that it will be like a razor cutting to the heart. You will be bleeding to death but not know you are cut.

You will do what she suggests and do it willingly because it will not be a demand but a request said so subtle you won't recognize it for what it actually is: a demand. And you will love doing what she requests.

When you need space and time to yourself you won't need to explain, she will pick up the vibe.
And you will do the same for her.

She will not be jealous and envious of your talent and skills or how handsome you are to other women. She knows she has you in her pocket because she is confident of herself, and not worried about some other woman taking her man.

If you are taken by another woman, it must be the will of God that you go. She knows God will replace her emptiness with someone even better than you. But she will give you time to get a grip on yourself and find your way back home. Just don't take too long and when you come home don't be asking about what she was doing while you were gone.

A real woman will put her resources at your disposal if you are worthy of them, as the prophet Muhammad was treated by the wealthy trade woman Khadijah. There is no selfishness in love. All is for the beloved, but a wise woman ain't no fool. As the song says, the greatest thing you will ever do is love and be loved in return.

The man thanked the elder woman for her wisdom and departed on his search.

--Marvin X
3/11/10

Parable of the Woman at the Well


Parable of the Woman at the Well

A woman asked Plato why are youth out of control ? He replied that youth are out of control because adults are out of control and youth observe then emulate their behavior.

Even during the revolutionary 60s, the militants, who are the fathers and mothers of today’s youth, were guilty of contradictions, or saying one thing but doing another. They talked black power but went home to beat their wives and women. They preached discipline but were guilty of drug abuse and abuse of power. Much of our behavior was patriarchal white supremacy actions that debased women, considering them less than human.

Of course we learned this behavior from our white supremacy socialization. True enough, there were many good things we learned and achieved during that time, and many sincere and honest people gave their lives for the cause of freedom.

But if we had been of sober minds, we would have been able to detect agent provocateurs and snitches. We would have been able to see through the US Government’s counter intelligence program or Cointelpro. With sobriety and discipline, we might have been able to show our children better examples of male/female relations, and perhaps today’s youth would be more respectful of women, elders and peers.

The woman asked Plato what can be done today to reconnect with our children ? Plato said we must embrace them with unconditional love and do not abuse them, physically, sexually or otherwise. Do not show them contradictory behavior, saying one thing but doing the opposite.

We must not say we are about freedom, yet make their mothers slaves in the home, treating them with abuse that the children observe. Many children have been abandoned and left to fend for themselves. They are without mother or father. Many are living in foster homes, the result of parental drug and sexual abuse.

Adults must stop being predators and instead be mentors and guides. The youth want and seek our wisdom, but we must reach out to them because many are terrified of us just as we are terrified of them. It is communal insanity when we allow children to rule our community, making us afraid to go outside at night, afraid to go to the store.


But we can only take back control of our community by reconnecting and embracing our children, no matter how painful it is for us and them. We must make amends to them for our wickedness and then demand of them the same.

Yes, they must apologize to the elders they have harmed and disrespected. What we are talking about is the urgent need for a healing session between youth and adults, a time and space where we can gather to admit our mistakes and promise to do better now and in the future.

We must, youth and adults, swallow our pride and reconnect. We cannot allow the chaos to continue because we know things go from bad to worse, if we do not address the issues. Nothing is going to change until we change our thinking and actions. We must rise up from animal to divine. The tide is turning because you are turning the tide!

Mothers and fathers who are separated must come together for the sake of their children, if only for a moment. When children see parents reconciling, they will do likewise. No matter the pain of the past, adults must show the way to community unity.

Why shouldn’t youth resort to violence, after all, they see adults resolving their conflicts with violence? Adults cannot get out of our responsibility to show the way, to guide and mentor. Every youth is our child, thus our responsibility to show the right way.

Give youth a chance, support them when they are selling items other than dope, such as DVDs, CDs, gear and other items to get their hustle on in a legal way. At least they are not killing to make a dollar, so reach out to them. Hug a thug before the thug hugs you!

The woman seemed to understand the wisdom of Plato. Although frustrated to the max, she said she would try to reach out to youth, rather than simply complain about their behavior and shortcomings.

Parable of Women Without Men


Parable of Women Without Men


There was war in the land, for centuries war in the land. The men were bred for labor, sperm donations and death. The women were booty, the spoils of war. A classical situation, nothing unique, racist, call it the art of war. Men must be destroyed, or humiliated, effeminated, castrated, dehumanized. Where is the movie of David Walker, Nat Turner, Denmark Vesey, Gabriel Prosser, Toussaint, Bokman?

There is no other way to exercise social control over the population of oppressed people, enslaved peoples, than to desecrate the men and their manhood. There can be no recognition of heroes or sheroes, this would be anathema to the oppressor system of domination. Where is the movie of Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Ida B. Wells.

The man in the oppressive society is at best a stunted man, a crippled man, handicapped physically and mentally. He is a warrior but unless he dons the warrior persona, consciously or unconsciously, he cannot assume the title, thus he is a wimp, a punk bitch, a dehumanized human being, a captive in the slave society, no matter how modern the trappings of said society.

Either the former slave exercises self determination and sovereignty, or he/she is a colonized being, a slave or in the modern era a wage slave, but a slave none the less.

He can be afforded the trappings of freedom, the flag, national anthem that he is forced to sing, the election of a president of his own kind (how many presidents of black face do we have in Africa that are actually white men of the most profound kind in their wickedness and debauchery?)

How many African prime ministers, kings, presidents for life do we have who have dungeons full of opposition leaders, writers, poets, journalists?

And so out of this matrix is supposed to arise strong men and boys capable of continuing the tradition of manhood which involves the revolutionary tradition? Meanwhile the purpose of the oppressor society is to dehumanize any semblance of manhood at every turn, to project only the personality of the stunted man, the muzzled dog man, the effete man as the dominate personality.

What woman wants such a man? The woman says, "If I wanted a woman, I do not need a fake woman, I might as well get me a real woman, a woman who knows how to treat me with gentleness, even more so than the gentle man!

The champion of male/female relations, Sharazah Ali says to women, "Be careful when you call for men to be more sensitive, you end up with effeminate personalities that you reject." What does the woman says in T.S. Eliot's poem, "That is not what I meant, that is not what I meant at all...."

And so let us cut to the chase, what are women to do when their men are incarcerated, victims of homicide and/or suicide, depressed, drugged out, bisexual, homosexual, unemployed, etc.?

Nature itself rises to the occasion to answer such questions, such conundrums of life in the hood!
The man cannot sell dope, so the woman sells dope. The man cannot pimp, so the woman pimps. The man cannot carry weapons, so the woman does. The man cannot gansta, so the woman does.
The man cannot care for his family, so his girl's girl assumes the role, dress, gait, voice and language. The woman becomes protector of the woman, since the man is absent, a victim on the battlefield, a causality of life in the hood.

She dons the persona of the man, including pants sagging, swagger in gait, voice, and all manner of the masculine personality. She straps on the plastic or rubber dildo to replace the natural male organ that is absent for innumerable reasons, among them the fact the man is angry, under stress, violent and lacking in tenderness, brutal, while she needs tender loving care in her stress, trying to be mother, and lover to the unlovable male, thus she moves to her sister girl for such tenderness and understanding.

If she is the economic superior, she takes authority as a young lady said, "I leave him with the baby and I bounce. He the baby mama, I'm the baby daddy."

Indeed, we see the men picking up children from childcare. We see the men pushing strollers downtown during work hours, suggesting the male is now the childcare provider while the women is employed. This is all by societal design, of course. Have no illusions why the woman can find employment and the man cannot. The oppressor knows well he can control the woman but he also knows the oppressed male seeks to overthrow him at the earliest possibility, to cut his throat and claim the championship title as the master.

On the educational level matters are devastating. Prison is the institution for educating black males, white the academic prisons educate black women who earn their degrees in higher education but must seek out imprisoned brothers if they are to have a man. After all, black bourgeoisie parents do not send their sons to Harvard, Yale and Stanford to connect with a "black bitch." It was clear to my daughter when she attended Stanford Law School that she and her girls were not to be matched with black males. Black males avoided them like the bubonic plague.

I write as a father with three daughters who graduated college, Yale, Stanford, Howard, Fresno State University, New York University, Albany, so I know the dilemma of black women seeking a husband in academia. One of my daughters said recently 75% of her friends have married or have mates out of the black manhood pool. The Washington Post noted black women have discarded the idea of marriage with anyone.

Imagine the situation at Howard University, Washington, DC, with 14 women for every man, imagine the crisis in male/female relations, no matter how each gender claims they handle the situation. I recently spent a week lecturing at Howard, but I got a clearer understanding of Howard sexuality, from the males and females, and yet what I learned only clarified the tragedy of male/female relations, with Howard as a microcosm. The stats are so outrageous that to consider a functional solution is beyond the Western paradigm.

We now have women with MBAs, PhDs, either giving up on a husband or seeking a husband doing twenty-five to life.

Such is the result of war in the hood. Part of the frustration, anger and rejection of our children who survive the academic world, yet, as Baraka says, "Come home from academia hating us and everything we're about, yet they don't even know what we're about," but the children suspect we have sold them a bogus bill of goods. Many were told to go to college to find a husband, yet there is none.

Dr. Wade Nobles says no matter if our children attend Stanford or San Quentin prison, it is all the same, they are imprisoned, and thus denied their natural right to be with each other, in love and tenderness.

The real question is what does all this forebode for the the future? What shall be the new configuration is gender relations? Surely, not more of the same old bullshit, not after women have enjoyed same gender loving relations, and are economically and psychologically independent.

And yet, how shall they deal with the macho man or the effeminate male or bisexual rejected by the woman seeking a "real man," and yet many matrifocal households can at best produce the effeminate male, possibly the result of bio-chemistry, the petrochemical foods, including hormone produced meats, water tainted with hormones and other bio undegradable chemicals recycled from waste water. We are told the residue from plastics is causing sexual transformations. Surely this all part of the bio-chemical warfare, add in germ warfare with the HIV/AIDS pandemic.

I only know one thing, plastic toys are a sick reasonable facsimile for the real male penis. But it is understandable in war, though the only solution to war is active engagement by males and females, not diversionary tactics that only prolong war. For the day shall surely arrive when the female's biology shall seek the real deal Hollyfield.

The future of the black nation is at hand. Tell me how same gender loving people shall contribute to the this future. They may find themselves just as guilty as the oppressor in the destruction of the black nation. The question is are they pro-life or anti-life?

I don't care whether you agree with me or not. Just consider what I've said and the rest is up to you.
--Marvin X
6/1/10

Patriot Act and Politics of Tricknology


The Black face of Imperialism





Patriot Act and Politics of Tricknology

The Patriot Act was easily renewed by both Democrats and Republicans because they are two sides of the same fascist coin. They are both slaves to the lobbyists who are whores of special interests in the military,corporate, financial complex of white supremacy institutions that are transnational and couldn't give a damn about the American people or any other people except their Gang of Eight Club of gangsters and robber barons.

We saw them dancing together in lockstep to the Zionist Netanyahu who addressed the Congress as if it was his Greek Chorus of sycophants. But the winds of the world are blowing revolution, not reaction, therefore we need only be patient to see the reactionaries swept up into tornadoes and hurricanes powered by the wrath of people united to resist the pseudo power of the ruling class that shall meet the same fate as the quisling Mubarak and others in Tunisia, Yemen, Libya, Jordan, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia and Syria.

America is greatly mistaken if she thinks she will avoid the rising tide of world revolution with her "best democracy that money can buy." The spirit of real change, not pseudo change, is in the wind. The people can smell it, taste it, and will be glad about it. But as Mao said, "The reactionaries will never put down their butcher knives, they will never turn into Buddha heads."

We are crystal clear who the real patriots are, certainly not those who pillage the coffers of the poor, who leave them robbed and half naked on the roadside. The Democrats and Republicans should both give up their charade and surrender power to the people before they are hunted down and captured in some rat hole like Saddam Hussain and General Mladic, scoundrels of the worse kind, yet no worse than those who proclaim democracy yet are nothing but bloodsuckers of the poor, who would only be gratified if wage slavery was the order of the day, without a living wage or benefits.

The people need only stand up and join the winds of revolution sweeping from North Africa, the Middle East and the Americas. No, the Patriot Act is not for terrorists because the real terrorists are those who passed the Patriot Act in an attempt to stifle descent and perpetuate fear. Do not be moved except to challenge all their machinations and maneuvers to prolong the fascist state that is clearly in decay and dying with each passing moment.

Overcome the fear of death and prison, only then can you stand up to the reactionaries in the persona of the good guys. Yet we see what happens when the "good guys" take you into false wars on false pretenses that only maim and kill your sons and daughters for a worthless cause. When America wants to find the real terrorists, she will need only look in the mirror at her leaders in the Congress, in the slimy corporations and filthy Wall Street dins of iniquity, all of which are perpetuated by the Monkey Mind Media to maintain the people in a state of drunkenness and addiction to the world of make believe.

The roots of American spying began in slavery and continued during emancipation with the Black Code surveillance and later the founding of the FBI that again focused on Black Nationalist leader Marcus Garvey. The 60s Cointelpro continued the anti-American tradition of disrespecting the rights of citizens to freely assemble to address their grievances.

What we need is not the Patriot Act but for true patriots to stand and draw that line in the sand that says liberty or death.
--Marvin X
5/27/11

Thursday, May 26, 2011

General of Muslim Genocide Captured for War Crimes--Next Condi, Bush, Rumsfeld



General of Muslim Genocide Ratko (the rat) Mladic Captured-- Next Bush, Condi, Rumsfeld for Crimes Against Humanity!


The most wanted by UN Prosecutors Bosnian General Ratko Mladic

Ratko Mladic who was the most prominent Bosnian war crimes suspect in 1990 has been arrested. General Ratko Mladic is accused over the mastermind of massacre of at least 7,500 Bosnian Muslim men and boys at Srebrenica in 1995. Serbian President Boris Tadic confirmed the arrest of the former Bosnian Serb army chief at a news conference.

Serbian President Tadic said work was under way to extradite General Mladic to the international war crimes tribunal in The Hague, and it later emerged that a plane carrying the suspect had taken off from Belgrade for the Dutch city.

The detention, the Serbian leader said, had closed one chapter in Serbian history, bringing the country and the region closer to reconciliation.

The other top Balkan war criminals had been captured and tried earlier, but the failure to catch Mladic was delaying the entry of Serbia into the European Union.

Some consider the Srebrenica murders the worst incident since World War 2.