MURDER, POLITICS, AND THE END OF THE JAZZ AGE
by Michael Wolraich
Order today at Barnes & Noble / Amazon / Books-A-Million / Bookshop
MURDER, POLITICS, AND THE END OF THE JAZZ AGE by Michael Wolraich Order today at Barnes & Noble / Amazon / Books-A-Million / Bookshop |
Beneath the Spin * Eric L. Wattree
This article was originally written in December of 2005. It wasn't written to glorify either crime, murder, or the gangster lifestyle that a minority of Black and Hispanic youth embrace in the hood. It was written to reflect the reality of life in this nation’s inner cities, and the culture of wasted humanity that it spawns.
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In the end, it turned out that Tookie Williams was a brilliant young man, and he just might have possessed a mind that could have cured many of society’s ills. This nation cannot afford such a waste, and the Black community cannot just sit back and allow this sort of thing to continue, because the fact is, Stanley 'Tookie' Williams was actually an All American Boy; the only thing he did that we don't routinely honor our young men for, was applying his American values toward his own interest, instead of Exxon/Mobile's.
Since I wrote that article eight years ago, there has been some change - with respect to the Black community, it's gotten worse. Some Obama critics - like Tavis Smiley, Cornel West, and the entire Republican Party - would say, that makes their point. Even though we've elected a Black president things have gotten worse. But that's not true. On a national level things have gotten a lot better. Under the Bush administration the nation was hemorrhaging 850,000 jobs per MONTH, and this nation, and the world as a whole, was racing towards a second Great Depression, so on a national level things are much better.
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What the steady decline of the Black community does clearly indicate, however, is that we're not doing nearly enough to help ourselves. So why are Obama critics wasting so much time on television, selling books, and rolling around in buses promoting themselves when there is so much work to be done in the community? Why aren't they in the community with their sleeves rolled up and educating the community to the need for change, and about how to bring that change about? The answer is, because they don't care. All they care about is their own enrichment. So the fact is, we've got to stop waiting for them, and starting caring about ourselves. So let's get moving.
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Ode to Tookie
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Tookie?
Yeah,
I know Tookie;
I WAS Tookie,
And I knew his pain.
*
I know the pain of a child
That the cold, smirking
Eyes of society
Peer down upon;
Of being caught like
A doe in the headlights
Of unbridled hatred
For nothing more than
Just . . . being;
Of being
Under-acknowledged,
Under-appreciated,
And under-educated,
By a society
Intent on robbing you
Of the innocence
That is every child’s birthright.
And I know the churning, agonizing,
And unfocused anger
Of a youth
Who knows anger
Much too soon.
*
So,
Tookie?
Yeah,
I know Tookie;
I WAS Tookie,
But I ain’t going out like that.
*
Because some the greatest minds
I’ve ever known
Held court while sitting
on empty milk crates
In the parking lot
Of ghetto liquor stores;
And at their feet I embraced
The love of knowledge,
And through their tutelage
Defined self-worth
In my own terms.
*
These were the "Eulipians"—
Writers, poets, musicians, painters,
And uncommon drunks—
Those shade-tree philosophers who
Contemplate the fungus
Between the toes of society;
Who dance with reckless abandon,
Unfettered by formal inhibition
Through the presumptuous
Speculation of the ages.
*
Yes, the Eulipians,
Who lived in county jails,
Cardboard boxes, alley ways,
And luxury apartments.
Seemingly insignificant
Here in Great Bruteland,
But of ultimate significance
In the eyes of God.
*
While these obscure intellectuals
Stood well outside the mainstream
Of academy,
I watched with astonished delight
As they sang, scat, blew, and scribed
Their various philosophies into the
Mainstream of human knowledge.
*
Tookie?
Oh Yeah,
I know Tookie;
I WAS Tookie,
*
But I met the Eulipians,
Who, from their ragged podiums,
Put forth the proposition
That knowledge was free, thus,
Would transcend attempts to be
Contain through barriers of
Caste and privilege - and even,
Institutionalized murder -
Leaving man's innate thirst
For knowledge free to overwhelm
His lust for stupidity.
*
So,
Tookie,
Yeah,
I know Tookie;
I WAS Tookie,
But I choose a different tact.
While I refuse to lounge
Against your saber,
In a glorious and defiant act,
Look into my eyes, my man--
I still got my brother’s back.
*
You thought you had him,
While facing death,
But he went down like
Like Trojan -
Leaving your silly asses,
With your silly smiles,
Standing there
Shocked and frozen.
*
"What’s up, baby,
Can’t find a vein?
You been beggin’ to do it,
So let’s us do this thang.
But if y’all
Waitin’ around
To see some pain,
I ain’t the only one gon’
Die here,
You jive ass, lame.
*
"Faint of heart?
Give it here,
I’ll stick the damn thang for ya;
I’m a man of the hood
And strong of heart,
So I go down
Like a warrior.
*
"Naw, my man,
You don’t see no fear;
You really look surprised!
I’m gon’ honor my people
As I leave here,
So just stick me,
So I can close my eyes.
*
"You schemed and cheated
To take me out,
So let us get this on;
You can still my body
And take my breath,
But my heart
Will still live on."
*
So,
Tookie?
You mean
THAT Tookie.
Yeah, I know Tookie,
We’ve planted his heart
Within the hood.
What you saw as dirt,
We see as soil,
To sow this tragedy,
Into something good.
*
Tookie,
Oh yeah,
I KNEW Tookie,
But I ain’t goin’
Out like that.
Eric L. Wattree
http://wattree.blogspot.com/
[email protected]
Citizens Against Reckless Middle-Class Abuse (CARMA)
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Religious bigotry: It's not that I hate everyone who doesn't look, think, and act like me - it's just that God does.