Dr. Norman, also a brother of the more world-famous Jesse Norman, has passed away this week-end.
Dr. Norman had the most beautiful bass voice I have ever heard. I asked him once why he hadn't taken that voice to the met. He indicated that he couldn't have competed with his sister, but I doubt that was why. I don't believe they would have been contracted for the same projects.
Still, Dr. Norman had an illustrious career, and taught for some time at the Wayne State Med School.
He was sincerely revered as well, as one of the most prized members of Detroit's
accomplished Brazeal Dennard Chorale.
I cannot believe I won't hear Dr. Norman sing live ever again. To hear him sing was
absolutely transformative.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Friday, July 17, 2015
What Sort Of Muslim Is Drunk?
It makes no sense for authorities to say the Tennessee man who killed four marines was arrested for
drunk driving in April, and yet a religious loyalist radical in the Muslim faith in July.
Muslims do not drink.
drunk driving in April, and yet a religious loyalist radical in the Muslim faith in July.
Muslims do not drink.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Church Camp: 2015
When I was young and we saw a gaggle of cops, we knew someone might be in trouble. We were
pretty certain it wasn't any of us.
Today, the kids think much differently.
The camp bus rolled up to the Detroit Belle Isle entrance Wednesday.
One of the youngsters asked distractedly,
"What are all these police doing here?"
Another answered,
"Cause they don't like us."
According to the camp counselors it was Youth Day at Belle Isle, and cops seemed to be there from
the tri-county area, as well as the Border Patrol!
Just then some of the kids began to mimic Uncle Ruckus of the cartoon show, The Boondocks.
"Look at all the picaninny chillren, wit dey picaninny essence all in d' ayur!"
So the counselors (All on the bus were African-American of American slave heritage.) began to laugh out loud. They asked the youngsters,
"Do you watch The Boondocks?"
Initially, the children thought they were in trouble, but at the end they all began to laugh.
pretty certain it wasn't any of us.
Today, the kids think much differently.
The camp bus rolled up to the Detroit Belle Isle entrance Wednesday.
One of the youngsters asked distractedly,
"What are all these police doing here?"
Another answered,
"Cause they don't like us."
According to the camp counselors it was Youth Day at Belle Isle, and cops seemed to be there from
the tri-county area, as well as the Border Patrol!
Just then some of the kids began to mimic Uncle Ruckus of the cartoon show, The Boondocks.
"Look at all the picaninny chillren, wit dey picaninny essence all in d' ayur!"
So the counselors (All on the bus were African-American of American slave heritage.) began to laugh out loud. They asked the youngsters,
"Do you watch The Boondocks?"
Initially, the children thought they were in trouble, but at the end they all began to laugh.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
I Feel You Ta-Nehisi - In Some Ways
I saw the short TV interview Mr. Coates did with Chris Hayes on MSNBC 7-14-15. I understand his
claim that black bodies built the U.S. but I don't quite understand his non-grasp of freedom in the
human soul.
Our souls comforted us during slavery.
We are the survivors.
Some Africans did elect to be killed rather than succumb to slavers and plantation purveyors.
We are not likely their children.
The soul is the will to live and to love one another.
It can, and often does, transcend anything.
To witness transcendence in the power of the soul, one might choose to look at early documentaries
on the life of Dr. Stephen Hawking. No one was more full of the life of the body! And yet his mind
was larger than life as we then knew it. Dr. Hawking was to have died in his twenties, maybe thirties,
according to the provincial wisdom in medical science at that time. Yet Dr. Hawking is my age now,
or older, with children of his own, and I am most assuredly over 65.
I do know,however, that when a black man loses a friend, or brother, it many times tears at him, claws at him forever and ever.
Black men feel they are a race of people.
They feel themselves a beleaguered race of people small in number and weak in the power to
enforce policies and policy provisions that even they themselves have enacted or been forceful
in having enacted.
Black women, they feel, are simply a part of their bodies they may be able to take great care of
or may have to neglect.
So when you,Mr. Coates, express the anguish of the loss of Mr. Prince Jones, I felt you grieve at the loss of one of the best in the world, one of those who built the entire New World, and was slaughtered for thanks,
though already a part of an endangered few. I felt that in your delivery.
I have always been bitter that the police killed my aunt before I was born. The loss is a bit difficult to
convey because of the time warp I didn't endure so that I could get to know her. But one would have to be able to have looked in her sister's (my mother's) face when she told the story of begging the
doctor's not to let my auntie die, and the doctors' taking pity on her small broken heart when they
explained that even though she would take care of this, her beloved elder sibling, it could not help.
My mom's sister was dying from a billy club to the head, and mamma never recovered from the
horror of that loss.
Mom was maybe nine. Her sister was just eighteen.
My mom could have been bitter about it, as was her mom, my auntie's mother too, had she ever
had a chance to be angry. She seemed to have gone from disbelief straight to grief and depression.
And as regards the cauchemardesque* of it all, that is where she stayed until we lost her at age 77.
l know my aunt's body did not survive the policeman's attack. But the part of her soul that let my mom tell us about her did survive a bit. As her body lay buried, parts of her soul were still with her
little sister, and then given over to us to ponder and to understand what about it was love.
Her stories were in her little sister's family many times, years and years later.
The soul is that part of a human being which is so very free that it makes the saying true: 'The human
mind can make heaven out of hell or hell out of heaven.'
How else could I offer a man in dire need of heroin a room at the Ritz instead, and he double over
in misery and with rage. His body helps him into this mental posture at that moment, but dependent
upon how sick he actually is, only his soul may be free enough to reject my offer most fully.
In our recently deceased and martyred South Carolina Nine, their souls will live on in many, many
persons as their bodies are no longer so free to do.
Mr. Coates would love to have met my dad, who founded an organization in the fifties, asking
for reparations. I used to say 'Dad, there was no U.S. There were thirteen colonies. Who would
pay us- we built the entire thing! All the first thirteen colonies were built by our ancestors, and the
money funding the westward movement came from the too!' He'd still try to puzzle it out.
I generally avoid all the progressive whining done on MSNBC, especially since Joy Reid has no show now; but I am so glad I caught you last night.
I also hate to miss Lawrence O'Donnell, Ed Schultz, and Rev. Al- which is how my TV happened to be on at all.
Often the sound is off and I am out of the room!
I will Between The World and Me tonight. I know your writing because I read The Atlantic when I can.
*nightmarish ( for me, in an exquisite depiction)
claim that black bodies built the U.S. but I don't quite understand his non-grasp of freedom in the
human soul.
Our souls comforted us during slavery.
We are the survivors.
Some Africans did elect to be killed rather than succumb to slavers and plantation purveyors.
We are not likely their children.
The soul is the will to live and to love one another.
It can, and often does, transcend anything.
To witness transcendence in the power of the soul, one might choose to look at early documentaries
on the life of Dr. Stephen Hawking. No one was more full of the life of the body! And yet his mind
was larger than life as we then knew it. Dr. Hawking was to have died in his twenties, maybe thirties,
according to the provincial wisdom in medical science at that time. Yet Dr. Hawking is my age now,
or older, with children of his own, and I am most assuredly over 65.
I do know,however, that when a black man loses a friend, or brother, it many times tears at him, claws at him forever and ever.
Black men feel they are a race of people.
They feel themselves a beleaguered race of people small in number and weak in the power to
enforce policies and policy provisions that even they themselves have enacted or been forceful
in having enacted.
Black women, they feel, are simply a part of their bodies they may be able to take great care of
or may have to neglect.
So when you,Mr. Coates, express the anguish of the loss of Mr. Prince Jones, I felt you grieve at the loss of one of the best in the world, one of those who built the entire New World, and was slaughtered for thanks,
though already a part of an endangered few. I felt that in your delivery.
I have always been bitter that the police killed my aunt before I was born. The loss is a bit difficult to
convey because of the time warp I didn't endure so that I could get to know her. But one would have to be able to have looked in her sister's (my mother's) face when she told the story of begging the
doctor's not to let my auntie die, and the doctors' taking pity on her small broken heart when they
explained that even though she would take care of this, her beloved elder sibling, it could not help.
My mom's sister was dying from a billy club to the head, and mamma never recovered from the
horror of that loss.
Mom was maybe nine. Her sister was just eighteen.
My mom could have been bitter about it, as was her mom, my auntie's mother too, had she ever
had a chance to be angry. She seemed to have gone from disbelief straight to grief and depression.
And as regards the cauchemardesque* of it all, that is where she stayed until we lost her at age 77.
l know my aunt's body did not survive the policeman's attack. But the part of her soul that let my mom tell us about her did survive a bit. As her body lay buried, parts of her soul were still with her
little sister, and then given over to us to ponder and to understand what about it was love.
Her stories were in her little sister's family many times, years and years later.
The soul is that part of a human being which is so very free that it makes the saying true: 'The human
mind can make heaven out of hell or hell out of heaven.'
How else could I offer a man in dire need of heroin a room at the Ritz instead, and he double over
in misery and with rage. His body helps him into this mental posture at that moment, but dependent
upon how sick he actually is, only his soul may be free enough to reject my offer most fully.
In our recently deceased and martyred South Carolina Nine, their souls will live on in many, many
persons as their bodies are no longer so free to do.
Mr. Coates would love to have met my dad, who founded an organization in the fifties, asking
for reparations. I used to say 'Dad, there was no U.S. There were thirteen colonies. Who would
pay us- we built the entire thing! All the first thirteen colonies were built by our ancestors, and the
money funding the westward movement came from the too!' He'd still try to puzzle it out.
I generally avoid all the progressive whining done on MSNBC, especially since Joy Reid has no show now; but I am so glad I caught you last night.
I also hate to miss Lawrence O'Donnell, Ed Schultz, and Rev. Al- which is how my TV happened to be on at all.
Often the sound is off and I am out of the room!
I will Between The World and Me tonight. I know your writing because I read The Atlantic when I can.
*nightmarish ( for me, in an exquisite depiction)
Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick Is Still Our Mayor
Mayor Dave Bing was a very good Detroit Mayor. The state had the power it gave itself to replace
him, but they had no right to do it. Michigan may get away with its blatantly racist tactics because
it doesn't fly the confederate battle flag. The mayor in name only we have now serves at the pleasure
of the Michigan legislature and its cheat of a governor.
But the mayor we elected who was jailed for nonsense- he served the Detroit public. Mayor Kwame
Kilpatrick is a tremendously non-violent public servant, and thanks to that, he is a prison inmate.
We need Mayor Kilpatrick. His family needs him. Please grant him a Presidential pardon for the
"crimes" he did not commit against the citizens of Detroit.
We are immensely hurt that this state and the more local Detroit haters were able to bring our Mayor
down. We also loved Mayor Bing. But at least he is free.
him, but they had no right to do it. Michigan may get away with its blatantly racist tactics because
it doesn't fly the confederate battle flag. The mayor in name only we have now serves at the pleasure
of the Michigan legislature and its cheat of a governor.
But the mayor we elected who was jailed for nonsense- he served the Detroit public. Mayor Kwame
Kilpatrick is a tremendously non-violent public servant, and thanks to that, he is a prison inmate.
We need Mayor Kilpatrick. His family needs him. Please grant him a Presidential pardon for the
"crimes" he did not commit against the citizens of Detroit.
We are immensely hurt that this state and the more local Detroit haters were able to bring our Mayor
down. We also loved Mayor Bing. But at least he is free.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
White Women Are Getting Black People Out Of Prison
America has no people.
Japan has no people.
Europe has no people.
America, however, can replace its aging population with persons who
are young and not actually prone to real criminality.
America can compete.
Get good people out of prison.
Republicans are not fooling us into thinking they are suddenly magnaminous. Neither are the Clintons.
What they are is, pragmatic. Thanks.
White women have just not been falling for the ruse to keep having a lot of babies.
They have been interested in developing themselves, and the one or two children they have
been willing to have.
They tried being married forever whether the guy was worth two cent or not.
They tried the Nurse Betty life for decades.
They tried to make it known that they needed Roe v. Wade.
They felt the sting of disrespect when right-wing groups decided if they felt abortion was
murder, everyone had to decide abortion was murder.
Abortion is termination, pure and simple, termination of pregnancy.
Americans have a right to that belief.
So thank you men and women who tried to push your brand of "family values" on everyone
in the same ways you shoved it onto each other.
Japan has no people.
Europe has no people.
America, however, can replace its aging population with persons who
are young and not actually prone to real criminality.
America can compete.
Get good people out of prison.
Republicans are not fooling us into thinking they are suddenly magnaminous. Neither are the Clintons.
What they are is, pragmatic. Thanks.
White women have just not been falling for the ruse to keep having a lot of babies.
They have been interested in developing themselves, and the one or two children they have
been willing to have.
They tried being married forever whether the guy was worth two cent or not.
They tried the Nurse Betty life for decades.
They tried to make it known that they needed Roe v. Wade.
They felt the sting of disrespect when right-wing groups decided if they felt abortion was
murder, everyone had to decide abortion was murder.
Abortion is termination, pure and simple, termination of pregnancy.
Americans have a right to that belief.
So thank you men and women who tried to push your brand of "family values" on everyone
in the same ways you shoved it onto each other.
Please Pardon Our Mayor
Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick mainly looked after his city. The Detroit Free Press had a problem with
that. The prosecutor was pressured to hound him. Now we have no mayor. I don't know why people
think we voted for Duggan. Detroiters love Benny Napolean.
Please pardon Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick.
that. The prosecutor was pressured to hound him. Now we have no mayor. I don't know why people
think we voted for Duggan. Detroiters love Benny Napolean.
Please pardon Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick.
Friday, July 10, 2015
Is There Any News?
Donald Trump is not news, and he has nothing to say. Why is media speaking with him? He has
Fox News.
Yawn.
Fox News.
Yawn.
Claire McCaskill: Been To Church Camp In Downtown Detroit?
I don't know how children manage logistics in a man/woman relationship. However, some things they
have heard about, they don't know how to distill. They shouldn't know anyway. However, these things which have caused trouble at camp, should of course cause trouble for life when they occur.
Nine Year Old African Am Male: My dad used to be in the Marines.
Seven Year Old African Am Male: Yeah, and that's how you got borned. Your
mamma got raped.
Nine Year Old...: Hey! (shouting) He over here talkin' about my mamma!
Camp Counselor: (an Af Am lady) What's going on over here?
Nine Year Old:( very angry) He's over here talking about my mamma
got raped.
Seven Year Old: That's how he got borned. They rape people in the Marines.
: Counselor: What? OK, you two go to opposites sides of the gym, and don't let
me see you play together again.
******************
So, do we think the Armed Services are able to properly handle their criminal business?
No. No we do not.
I find this exchange particularly strange since black men don't do all that much raping as a rule,
as I know of- though I admit I don't know all the statistics, and black men are becoming more
westernized by the day.
But how did this behavior attached to Marines trickle so far down that it is in a day camp for
adolescents?
As I heard said in a church not long ago ... my, my, my.
have heard about, they don't know how to distill. They shouldn't know anyway. However, these things which have caused trouble at camp, should of course cause trouble for life when they occur.
Nine Year Old African Am Male: My dad used to be in the Marines.
Seven Year Old African Am Male: Yeah, and that's how you got borned. Your
mamma got raped.
Nine Year Old...: Hey! (shouting) He over here talkin' about my mamma!
Camp Counselor: (an Af Am lady) What's going on over here?
Nine Year Old:( very angry) He's over here talking about my mamma
got raped.
Seven Year Old: That's how he got borned. They rape people in the Marines.
: Counselor: What? OK, you two go to opposites sides of the gym, and don't let
me see you play together again.
******************
So, do we think the Armed Services are able to properly handle their criminal business?
No. No we do not.
I find this exchange particularly strange since black men don't do all that much raping as a rule,
as I know of- though I admit I don't know all the statistics, and black men are becoming more
westernized by the day.
But how did this behavior attached to Marines trickle so far down that it is in a day camp for
adolescents?
As I heard said in a church not long ago ... my, my, my.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
What Does Ta-Nehisi Mean?
I thought Sean Bell was killed by thuggish officers who envied the 'bands' Sean's party had at the club to 'make her dance'.
For Our Fallen In The Already Famous South Carolina Church
Make no mistake about it. Paul Laurence Dunbar was an educated man. He wote this poem to memorialize our ancestora as they were. There are those of us who love them dearly, the way they
looked and lived and spoke and loved is dear to our hearts. We owe no apologies. For the only people who originally learned English from Americans, were those who came over from Africa.
And lest any ever forget what the sacrifice ever meant to individuals whose freedom should have been honored at birth, without question, Abraham Lincoln didn't do any of what he did without black
soldiers. When African Americans who have recent roots in American slavery do go to the ballot
box, they are not doing so to honor any confederacy, or the likes of John Roberts and his gang.
When Dey 'Listed Colored Soldiers
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Dey was talkin' in de cabin, dey was talkin' in de hall;
But I listened kin' o keerless, not a-tinkin' bout it all;
An' on Sunday, too, I noticed, dey was whisp'rin mighty
much,
Stan'in all erroun' de roadside w'en dey let us out o'
chu'ch.
But I did n't t'ink erbout it twell de middle of de week
An my 'Lias come to see me, an' somehow he could n't
speak.
Den I seed all in a minute whut he'd come to see me
for;-
Dey had 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias gwine to wah.
Oh, I hugged him, an I kissed him, an' I baiged him
not to go;
But he tol' me dat his conscience, hit was callin' to him
so
An he could n't baih to lingah w'en he had a chanst
to fight
For de freedom dey had gin him an' de glory of de right.
So he kissed me, an' he lef me, w'en I'd p'omised to
be true;
An dey put a knapsack on him, an' a coat all colo'ed
blue.
So I gin him pap's ol' Bible f'om de bottom of de
draw',-
W'en dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.
But I t'ought of all de weary miles dat he would have
to tramp,
An' I could n't be contented w'en dey tuk him to de
camp.
W'y my hea't nigh broke wid grievin' twell I seed him
on de street;
Den I felt lak I could go an' th'ow my body at his feet.
For his buttons was a-shinin, an his face was shinin',
too,
An' he looked so strong an' mighty in his coat o' sojer
blue.
Dat I hollhed, 'Step up, manny," dough my th'oat was
so' an' raw,-
W'en dey listed colo'ed sojers an my 'Lias went to wah.
Ol' Mis' cried w'en mastah lef' huh, young Miss mou'ned
huh brothah Ned,
An' I did n't know dey feelin's is de ve'y wo'ds dey said
W'en I tol' 'em I was so'y. Dey had done gin up dey
all;
But dey only seemed mo' proudah dat dey men had
hyeahed de call.
Bofe my mastahs went in gray suits, an' I loved de Yan
kee blue,
But I t'ought dat I could sorrer for de losin' of 'em too;
But I could n't, for I did n't know de haf o' what I
saw,
'Twell dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.
Mastah Jack come home all sickly; he he was broke for life
dey said;
An' dey lef my po' young mastah some'r's on de road-
side, - dead.
W'en de women cried an' mou'ned 'em, I could feel it
thoo an' thoo,
For I had a loved un fightin' in de way o' dangah, too.
Den dey tol' me dey had laid him some'r's way down
souf to res',
Wid de flag dat he had fit for shinin' daih acrost his
breas'.
Well, I cried, but den I reckon dat's whut Gawd had
called him for,
W'en dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.
looked and lived and spoke and loved is dear to our hearts. We owe no apologies. For the only people who originally learned English from Americans, were those who came over from Africa.
And lest any ever forget what the sacrifice ever meant to individuals whose freedom should have been honored at birth, without question, Abraham Lincoln didn't do any of what he did without black
soldiers. When African Americans who have recent roots in American slavery do go to the ballot
box, they are not doing so to honor any confederacy, or the likes of John Roberts and his gang.
When Dey 'Listed Colored Soldiers
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Dey was talkin' in de cabin, dey was talkin' in de hall;
But I listened kin' o keerless, not a-tinkin' bout it all;
An' on Sunday, too, I noticed, dey was whisp'rin mighty
much,
Stan'in all erroun' de roadside w'en dey let us out o'
chu'ch.
But I did n't t'ink erbout it twell de middle of de week
An my 'Lias come to see me, an' somehow he could n't
speak.
Den I seed all in a minute whut he'd come to see me
for;-
Dey had 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias gwine to wah.
Oh, I hugged him, an I kissed him, an' I baiged him
not to go;
But he tol' me dat his conscience, hit was callin' to him
so
An he could n't baih to lingah w'en he had a chanst
to fight
For de freedom dey had gin him an' de glory of de right.
So he kissed me, an' he lef me, w'en I'd p'omised to
be true;
An dey put a knapsack on him, an' a coat all colo'ed
blue.
So I gin him pap's ol' Bible f'om de bottom of de
draw',-
W'en dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.
But I t'ought of all de weary miles dat he would have
to tramp,
An' I could n't be contented w'en dey tuk him to de
camp.
W'y my hea't nigh broke wid grievin' twell I seed him
on de street;
Den I felt lak I could go an' th'ow my body at his feet.
For his buttons was a-shinin, an his face was shinin',
too,
An' he looked so strong an' mighty in his coat o' sojer
blue.
Dat I hollhed, 'Step up, manny," dough my th'oat was
so' an' raw,-
W'en dey listed colo'ed sojers an my 'Lias went to wah.
Ol' Mis' cried w'en mastah lef' huh, young Miss mou'ned
huh brothah Ned,
An' I did n't know dey feelin's is de ve'y wo'ds dey said
W'en I tol' 'em I was so'y. Dey had done gin up dey
all;
But dey only seemed mo' proudah dat dey men had
hyeahed de call.
Bofe my mastahs went in gray suits, an' I loved de Yan
kee blue,
But I t'ought dat I could sorrer for de losin' of 'em too;
But I could n't, for I did n't know de haf o' what I
saw,
'Twell dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.
Mastah Jack come home all sickly; he he was broke for life
dey said;
An' dey lef my po' young mastah some'r's on de road-
side, - dead.
W'en de women cried an' mou'ned 'em, I could feel it
thoo an' thoo,
For I had a loved un fightin' in de way o' dangah, too.
Den dey tol' me dey had laid him some'r's way down
souf to res',
Wid de flag dat he had fit for shinin' daih acrost his
breas'.
Well, I cried, but den I reckon dat's whut Gawd had
called him for,
W'en dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.
For The A.G. Beau Biden
I am still heartsick over this loss.
We learned growing up in Catholic school, that a person can have a correct conscience, a doubtful
conscience, or even a wayward conscience. Wayward in that there may very well be 'honor among
thieves', but it isn't actual honor.
Though I didn't know the A.G. I somehow became very familiar with his work.
He was like a more moral Eliot Spitzer.
He seemed a less political Elizabeth Warren, and an equally committed but less fiery Bernie Sanders.
He was all anyone ever could have hoped for in a public official.
His public conscience was offered to us as not only correct, but laser-focused, rigorous, and muscular. How did medical science in this day and age allow us to lose such a man? I suppose only
heaven can answer that question.
I'd like us to use A.E. Housman's poem to remember the A.G.'s public service, and as likely, his personal humanity as well.
To An Athlete Dying Young
by A. E. Housman
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
Today, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home.
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut,
Cannot see the record cut
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge cup.
We learned growing up in Catholic school, that a person can have a correct conscience, a doubtful
conscience, or even a wayward conscience. Wayward in that there may very well be 'honor among
thieves', but it isn't actual honor.
Though I didn't know the A.G. I somehow became very familiar with his work.
He was like a more moral Eliot Spitzer.
He seemed a less political Elizabeth Warren, and an equally committed but less fiery Bernie Sanders.
He was all anyone ever could have hoped for in a public official.
His public conscience was offered to us as not only correct, but laser-focused, rigorous, and muscular. How did medical science in this day and age allow us to lose such a man? I suppose only
heaven can answer that question.
I'd like us to use A.E. Housman's poem to remember the A.G.'s public service, and as likely, his personal humanity as well.
To An Athlete Dying Young
by A. E. Housman
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
Today, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home.
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut,
Cannot see the record cut
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge cup.
Donald Trump: What Sort Of Americans Flee Into Mexico?
You got the answer right, buddy- rapists, murderers, and drug dealers.
As a matter of fact, Interpole is always looking for a lot of those kinds of Americans all over Europe
as well!
Did you hear about the doctor Loretta Lynch arrested as he got off a plane in LaGaurdia?
Why he was an American mass murderer who'd attempted to hipe in Africa. No, Donald Dumbness,
he was not a minority of any ilk.
As a matter of fact, Interpole is always looking for a lot of those kinds of Americans all over Europe
as well!
Did you hear about the doctor Loretta Lynch arrested as he got off a plane in LaGaurdia?
Why he was an American mass murderer who'd attempted to hipe in Africa. No, Donald Dumbness,
he was not a minority of any ilk.
Mrs. Myrlie Evers- Beg Pardon
As regards the use of 'Mr.' in the S. Carolina church killer's name- many writers, like me, meant no
harm or disrespect to our fallen or their families.
Using the man's full name didn't seem right at all, because we'd put it in print for all to see, acknowledging the cretin in a way he didn't seem to deserve. Let the courts name him in full. Let the
backward backwoods judge who was so worried about the bloody one's family so soon after the murders address the man in full. There will be court filings and court papers galore naming "the
defendant". I never want to name him!
I might have used his last name alone, but as it happens the name presents as completely innocuous.
Nothing about this person should come from us who love the peace and human worth expressed in
church or through any innocent.
'Mr.' seemed to create a proper distance, like the 'Mr.' in The Color Purple, if indeed we ever had to
name this man at all.
So sorry to have offended. I guess from now on if I have to think of or write about this 'critter', I will say D. Roof. Oh, ick.
harm or disrespect to our fallen or their families.
Using the man's full name didn't seem right at all, because we'd put it in print for all to see, acknowledging the cretin in a way he didn't seem to deserve. Let the courts name him in full. Let the
backward backwoods judge who was so worried about the bloody one's family so soon after the murders address the man in full. There will be court filings and court papers galore naming "the
defendant". I never want to name him!
I might have used his last name alone, but as it happens the name presents as completely innocuous.
Nothing about this person should come from us who love the peace and human worth expressed in
church or through any innocent.
'Mr.' seemed to create a proper distance, like the 'Mr.' in The Color Purple, if indeed we ever had to
name this man at all.
So sorry to have offended. I guess from now on if I have to think of or write about this 'critter', I will say D. Roof. Oh, ick.
One Of The Saddest Things About Trayvon's Trial
The killer's grandfather took the stand to say he had heard the scream on the 911 tape once before. He had heard his grandson scream that way when he was about fifteen years old.
No one mentioned that Trayvon's voice was a lot closer to that of a fifteen year old boy than was that of his very depraved and disgusting killer.
Those of us who want children to walk the streets in peace pray every day that these killers of young,
unarmed black men get what they deserve somehow, one way- or the other.
Who knows? Those kinds of prayers may get answered too.
No one mentioned that Trayvon's voice was a lot closer to that of a fifteen year old boy than was that of his very depraved and disgusting killer.
Those of us who want children to walk the streets in peace pray every day that these killers of young,
unarmed black men get what they deserve somehow, one way- or the other.
Who knows? Those kinds of prayers may get answered too.
Trayvon Was So Within His Rights
Trayvon would have been about the age of the S. Carolina church killer right now.
That man used Trayvon's murder as one of the things which made him want to be like
Trayvon's killer.
The strangest thing about that is that at the moment Trayvon noticed some creep was following him,
he was on his cell phone drinking iced tea, and eating skittles. That might have been the exact thing
D. Roof was doing at that exact moment. Boys of that age do the sugary drink and candy thing a lot
while on their cells... even "white boys", y' know.
That man used Trayvon's murder as one of the things which made him want to be like
Trayvon's killer.
The strangest thing about that is that at the moment Trayvon noticed some creep was following him,
he was on his cell phone drinking iced tea, and eating skittles. That might have been the exact thing
D. Roof was doing at that exact moment. Boys of that age do the sugary drink and candy thing a lot
while on their cells... even "white boys", y' know.
Grace Or Victory In South Carolina?
Those family members who went to court the very day D. Roof was arraigned were asserting their
victory over his planned part in what he hoped would be a wider insurrection.
Southern confederate types are constantly attempting to start a race war.
Well, not in South Carolina good buddies, not that day, and not on the backs of our beloved slain
including Senator Clementa Pinckney and his brothers and sisters in that Wednesday prayer meeting
at Mother Emanuel Church.
Those families did all they could with a quickness to stop you dead in your foul, stinking, bloody,
so misguided tracks- and isn't it the wonder they were the ones to do it! Praise the Lord, you sad
freak.
victory over his planned part in what he hoped would be a wider insurrection.
Southern confederate types are constantly attempting to start a race war.
Well, not in South Carolina good buddies, not that day, and not on the backs of our beloved slain
including Senator Clementa Pinckney and his brothers and sisters in that Wednesday prayer meeting
at Mother Emanuel Church.
Those families did all they could with a quickness to stop you dead in your foul, stinking, bloody,
so misguided tracks- and isn't it the wonder they were the ones to do it! Praise the Lord, you sad
freak.
The Confederate Battle Flag
That flag is an enemy of all black people everywhere.
Imagine its scope and magnitude in today's world of international law and human rights legislation if
it were to attempt its dominion over any variety of darker peoples.
Would black people still be saying we were not a race of people who inherited our characteristics from a specific group of humans?
Well, they could say it; but it would do them no good at all.
Imagine its scope and magnitude in today's world of international law and human rights legislation if
it were to attempt its dominion over any variety of darker peoples.
Would black people still be saying we were not a race of people who inherited our characteristics from a specific group of humans?
Well, they could say it; but it would do them no good at all.
The U.S. Civil War: States Rights Over Slavery
Yeah...pure and simple, the Confederated states issued articles of secession, and gathered an army
against the U.S. of America, asserting their right to have people as slaves in their ownership no matter what the law of the country might say.
Sounds good?
No. No it does not.
against the U.S. of America, asserting their right to have people as slaves in their ownership no matter what the law of the country might say.
Sounds good?
No. No it does not.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)