Here is a walking tour of Hyde Park that I scripted and recorded recently.
Please come to Chicago!
Here is a walking tour of Hyde Park that I scripted and recorded recently.
Please come to Chicago!
Defense wins championships,
War profiteering bleeds budgets & People
Enough ale the color of
Leaded water in Flint to
Flood the Lower Ninth Ward
Enough Bud brewed to drown
Governments in bathtubs
Enough melted cheese to sink
Manhattan multiple times
Enough pizzas to feed every
Occupy, springing up 2011, for a week
Enough chips to stretch from
Earth to Uranus and back again
Enough heartburn to backlog
Every emergency room still open
Enough gas to forget about fracking;
and power an armada of nuclear subs
Enough bullshit to flow Brooklyn Bridge
to Golden Gate Bridge and back again,
Pausing “Send In The Clowns—“
$election 2016—2/4 Dance where a dime’s
Difference resides in war dancers,
Bailout engineers, extraordinary renderers,
Enhanced interrogators, collateral damagers,
Drone devotees—Guantanamo groupies!
thickness of a Trump card separates
Warheads of a Cruz missile from those of a
Golda-plated Iron Lady plundering Haiti—
Grieving families still feel the Bern of Boeing’s
Products and learn Northrup-Grummond’s another
Name for death…
Grandiose spectacle of the declining empire, the
Warfare state, causes chickens to tremble in terror
This time of year—
thinking of their wings, breasts, other body parts
stuffing the Colonel’s buckets; chickens shudder
at being stuffed in pepperoni holes of cops, klan,
militia and poor black, brown, and white
Working-class men in Couch Potato Pose
A week deep into African-
American History Month—shortest
Month of the year, and another
Newton leads Panthers on Ohlone Land,
Golden State, world stage, this Sunday—
Not the 9.0 earthquake, 1960s…
He entertains endless babbling about
Arms, “arm-strength—“ armed self-defense
Stuffed behind class war’s line of scrimmage
like a failed fourth and one run; he addresses
chatter of “moving the chains—“ Removing the
Chains is out of bounds, like a receiver failing to tap
dance before the white line…
Pigskin pursuits like opponents clipping, chopping
Black Lives down on streets, are out of bounds—so is
Tackling land, bread, housing and other 10-Points
Panthers played Sudden Death overtime for…
Before Broncos or Panthers wake up,
Before buses caravan from hotels—before
Coin toss—heads 1% wins, tails 99% loses:
Playing field ain’t level, dice are loaded—
Game’s rigged, fix is in:
Fat Cats, too big to fail, stuffed Single Payer, strip-
Sacked schools, jobs, pensions, 4o1Ks, blocked
Housing, threw drinking water, air we breathe for
Losses; bailed-out bull-rushing banksters on quick-
Counts—ran endless, no huddle wars… And 64 people
Own more wealth than all eyes viewing Super Bowl L!
Voting is like talking12th Man, Terrible Towel, Cheese-
head claptrap, rant, rodomontade—until Colts become
Broncos; Jaguars, Panthers; Raiders, Patriots— or some
Slave Phone app is invented for saving the planet,
Saving the working-class masses—February 31st…
We claim we want another world—say it’s
Possible, we can hear it on a clear day, and
can’t wait, and other incredibly beautiful things…
Yet, classmates succumb to cancer and we talk
“transitions,” “home-goings,” avoiding the
hermeneutics of suspicion, not outliving our
parents—our children not outliving us…
We claim, “all lives matter” knowing some
Have never mattered—and never will…
We say, “Save the children,” watching fifty-four
Schools closed, twenty-three prisons built—
celebrating life, slicing 60% of the pie for death
We say, “organic,” instead of calling out war-
Poisoned Frankenfood; we say, “mainstream media,”
knowing it’s minority, multibillionaire, big-lie
We say, “becoming a police state,” like $4.99
Becomes $5.00— because bald-headed buffoons and
lil’ fellas with funny mustaches are MIA—though 25%
of all humans caged are under stars and stripes; some
Gunned down daily!
We speak truth to power. Yet, power creeps like
Weeds into our lexicon:
“boots on the ground” isn’t a Barney’s blowout
sidewalk sale; “enhanced interrogation” ain’t discourse
on Douglass intersecting Du Bois, in Robeson’s
Cultural Work, or King’s ‘67 Riverside Church speech;
“signature strikes” aren’t ILWU refusals to
Unload South African and Israeli apartheid cargo
“high value targets” ain’t good department store deals
Game planning from the Peoples’ Playbook—
Marching holes in soles, walking out, sitting-in,
Striking, boycotting—meeting more than four corners;
Nurturing the new—paying attention to children in
Chitown, babies in Baltimore, front-liners in Flint and
Ferguson—remembering Occupy, drawing lessons—
putting forehead to history, theory getting us to the
Red Zone—struggle for socialism’s our Super Bowl!
Raymond Nat Turner © 2016 All Rights Reserved
MICHAEL J. KENNEDY
1938 – 2016
Michael Kennedy, fearless, defiant, aggressive defender of the
poor, the rebellious, the radical and the silenced. Uniquely committed to his humanly-flawed but rarely-in-doubt clients, he embraced a fierce and lifelong devotion to their – to our —
quandaries and needs, for decades forward. And we rely on the idea that Michael is here whatever crisis may befall us, for humane advice, for counsel about impossible ethical choices, for selecting priorities, for the best way to frame an issue, for critical strategic thinking. You go to Michael for wisdom as much as for law.
As I was preparing to go to jail for an uncertain term by resisting a federal grand jury subpoena in 1982, with three small sons at home, Michael first tried to talk me out of it, and then told me how to survive it. “Make yourself small, just now,” he said, “small enough to go through the eye of the needle. Then you will go back to your family and the revolution.” He was right.
Two decades later, my oldest son and his partner, for example, went to him for advice about marriage. And then again, for conversations about how Michael and Eleanora were raising their extraordinarily confident, fully-realized, and powerful daughter, their Anna. Michael’s advice on negotiating his fees became our family mantra whenever any bargaining was involved:
“If his knees don’t buckle, you didn’t aim high enough.”
Michael was also a fearless, off-the-rails lunatic, a courageous wordsmith and street fighter, capable of charging the bench in the name of justice, willing to risk contempt by manifesting his own scorn for the structures rigged against his clients. From the acquittal of Los Siete, seven Mexican-American youth charged with killing a police officer in San Francisco in 1969, to lead counsel in the acquittal of the 5 federal defendants in Brooklyn Federal Court charged with conspiracy to run guns to the Provisional Irish Republican Army in 1982 (a cache of weapons, that, to be exact, included a 20-millimeter cannon, a flame thrower, 47 machine guns and 11 automatic rifles). Michael’s strategic sense of how to obtain justice from a jury or a judge was without equal. Acquittals seemed to come his way. No wonder one of his most beloved dogs was named “Not Guilty”!
His passionate and intelligent fidelity to his clients is legendary: Huey Newton, the Mitchell Brothers, Vietnam deserters, The Brotherhood of Eternal Love, Rennie Davis in the Chicago Conspiracy Trial and before the notorious House Un-American Activities Committee. Grand Jury resistors under Nixon. Acquittal of a Wounded Knee defendant. Clemency for Jean Harris. Decades as general counsel to High Times and the stunningly successful campaign to decriminalize marijuana. And Michael was indeed my own anchor and guide returning to legal life, after eleven years as a fugitive.
Force of Nature meets Force of Nature. In 1967, Michael and Eleanora arrived in NYC madly in love, inseparable as Pablo Neruda wrote, through “the pleasures and penalties of being on earth.” Michael had come East to take up the military law defense of GIs resisting the Vietnam War, with his life comrade at the bar, Michael Tigar.
Kennedy had law partners, and legal enemies, but everyone knew that Eleanora and Michael were the devoted partners in each thing he did, and that her savvy and insight into human longings for freedom, passionate love, tribal loyalties, and defying the taken-for-granted would resonate with jurors, judges, and even the most powerful. They loved each other in high times and low, for 47 years. Eleanora’s eye and ear for the art and the science of jury selection was prescient. During the critical jury voir dire for the federal IRA trial in Brooklyn, Eleanora realized that the British military had just seized Las Malvines islands off Argentina (also known as the Falklands War). Every Latina and Latino in Brooklyn did not feel kindly about the Brits. Bingo. Acquittal on all counts.
Against stereotype, Michael taught himself how to grow sand dunes, and how to cultivate his beloved Zen garden. His stone cottage in Ireland’s Black Valley was a different retreat and comfort, where Mikey the boatman and caretaker would set the fire in the morning and sheep roamed the hills and clogged the roads. His commitments to Nicaragua, Father Miguel d’Escoto Brockmann, and to Gus Reichbach and to their merry band of brilliant lawyers reveal his keen character… Kennedy never tired of raving about his precious children, Scott, Lisa, & Anna, & adored playing with his 5 grandchildren.
He joked through the past months: I’m doing this clinical trial. I’ve never met a trial I didn’t love… and then …. I’ve got this cancer right where I want it…
I picture Michael and Eleanora rushing up to the New Rochelle house the evening that Haywood Burns, my sister Jennifer’s husband, was killed in a car accident in CapeTown, South Africa. Michael embraced Jennifer and whispered, “A thousand days. The Irish say it takes a thousand days to put your beloved to rest.”
Seamus Heaney wrote as Michael lived. Many will recognize this piece:
History says, don’t hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.
But you may not remember the rest of Heaney’s poem;
So hope for a great sea-change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that further shore
Is reachable from here.
Believe in miracle
And cures and healing wells.
If there’s fire on the mountain
Or lightning and storm
And a god speaks from the sky
That means someone is hearing
The outcry and the birth-cry
Of new life at its term.
Oh, Michael. You left us too soon, much too soon, and I miss you terribly. Thinking of the wild adventures together and how many times you saved us or sprung us, I feel a little naked and vulnerable without you. The world is better for your having been here with us.
Michael Kennedy passed away in NY yesterday in the arms of his family and his beloved Eleanora. Dear friend, wise counsellor, genius strategist, our fierce courtroom warrior, Michael was brilliant and fearless—he was comfortable living deep underground, the soul of an old Irish revolutionary dressed up as a proper gentleman. His radical instincts and his deep sense of justice were always awake and on-point, his love of life and his enjoyment of the vast carnival of humanity always engaged, his humor always enlivening and enlightening, often deployed to deflate the rich and powerful and encourage the riff-raff and the wretched of the earth.
Live on, Brother!
By Martin Luther King, Jr.
Tonight we assemble here to pay tribute to one of the most remarkable men of our time. Dr. Du Bois was not only an intellectual giant exploring the frontiers of knowledge, he was in the first place a teacher. He would have wanted his life to teach us something about our tasks of emancipation. One idea he insistently taught was that black people have been kept in oppression and deprivation by a poisonous fog of lies that depicted them as inferior, born deficient and deservedly doomed to servitude to the grave. So assiduously has this poison been injected into the mind of America that its disease has infected not only whites but many Negroes. So long as the lie was believed the brutality and criminality of conduct toward the Negro was easy for the conscience to bear. The twisted logic ran if the black man was inferior he was not oppressed-his place in society was appropriate to his meager talent and intellect. Dr. Du Bois recognized that the keystone in the arch of oppression was the myth of inferiority and he dedicated his brilliant talents to demolish it. There could scarcely be a more suitable person for such a monumental task. First of all he was himself unsurpassed as an intellect and he was a Negro. But beyond this he was passionately proud to be black and finally he had not only genius and pride but he had the indomitable fighting spirit of the valiant.
To pursue his mission, Dr. Du Bois gave up the substantial privileges a highly educated Negro enjoyed living in the North. Though he held degrees from Harvard and the University of Berlin, though he had more academic credentials than most Americans, black or white, he moved South where a majority of Negroes then lived. He deliberately chose to share their daily abuse and humiliation. He could have offered himself to the white rulers and exacted substantial tribute for selling his genius. There were few like him, Negro or white. He could have amassed riches and honors and lived in material splendor and applause from the powerful and important men of his time. Instead, he lived part of his creative life in the South-most of it in modest means and some of it in poverty, and he died in exile, praised sparingly and in many circles ignored.
But he was an exile only to the land of his birth. He died at home in Africa among his cherished ancestors, and he was ignored by a pathetically ignorant America but not by history.
History cannot ignore W. E. B. Du Bois. Because history has to reflect truth and Dr. Du Bois was a tireless explorer and a gifted discoverer of social truths. His singular greatness lay in his quest for truth about his own people. There were very few scholars who concerned themselves with honest study of the black man and he sought to fill this immense void. The degree to which he succeeded discloses the great dimensions of the man.
Yet he had more than a void to fill. He had to deal with the army of white propagandists – the myth-makers of Negro history. Dr. Du Bois took them all on in battle. It would be impossible to sketch the whole range of his intellectual contributions. Back in the nineteenth century he laid out a program of 100 years of study of problems affecting American Negroes and worked tirelessly to implement it.
Long before sociology was a science he was pioneering in the field of social study of Negro life and completed works on health, education, employment, urban conditions, and religion. This was at a time when scientific inquiry of Negro life was so unbelievably neglected that only a single university in the entire nation had such a program, and it was funded with $5,000 for a year’s work.
Against such odds Dr. Du Bois produced two enduring classics before the twentieth century. HisSuppression of the African Slave-Trade, written in 1896, is Volume I in the Harvard Historical Studies. His study The Philadelphia Negro, completed in 1899, is still used today. Illustrating the painstaking quality of his scientific method, to do this work Dr. Du Bois personally visited and interviewed 5,000 people.
He soon realized that studies would never adequately be pursued nor changes realized without the mass involvement of Negroes. The scholar then became an organizer and with others founded the NAACP. At the same time he became aware that the expansion of imperialism was a threat to the emergence of Africa. He recognized the importance of the bonds between American Negroes and the land of their ancestors, and he extended his activities to African affairs. After World War I he called Pan-African Congresses in 1919, 1921, and 1923, alarming imperialists in all countries and disconcerting Negro moderates in America who were afraid of this restless, militant, black genius.
Returning to the United States from abroad, he found his pioneering agitation for Negro studies was bearing fruit and a beginning was made to broaden Negro higher education. He threw himself into the task of raising the intellectual level of this work. Much later, in 1940, he participated in the establishment of the first Negro scholarly publication, Phylon. At the same time he stimulated Negro colleges to collaborate through annual conferences to increase their effectiveness and elevate the quality of their academic studies. But these activities, enough to be the life work for ten men, were far from the sum of his achievements. In the six years between 1935 and 1941 he produced the monumental seven-hundred-page volume on Black Reconstruction in America, at the same time writing many articles and essays. Black Reconstruction was six years in writing but was thirty- three years in preparation. On its publication, one critic said: “It crowns the long, unselfish and brilliant career of Dr. Du Bois. It is comparable in clarity, originality and importance to the Beards’ Rise of American Civilization.” The New York Times said, “It is beyond question the most painstaking and thorough study ever made of the Negroes’ part in Reconstruction,” and the New York Herald Tribune proclaimed it “a solid history of the period, an economic treatise, a philosophical discussion, a poem, a work of art all rolled into one.”
To understand why his study of the Reconstruction was a monumental achievement it is necessary to see it in context. White historians had for a century crudely distorted the Negro’s role in the Reconstruction years. It was a conscious and deliberate manipulation of history, and the stakes were high. The Reconstruction was a period in which black men had a small measure of freedom of action. If, as white historians tell it, Negroes wallowed in corruption, opportunism, displayed spectacular stupidity, were wanton, evil, and ignorant, their case was made. They would have proved that freedom was dangerous in the hands of inferior beings. One generation after another of Americans were assiduously taught these falsehoods, and the collective mind of America became poisoned with racism and stunted with myths.
Dr. Du Bois confronted this powerful structure of historical distortion and dismantled it. He virtually, before anyone else and more than anyone else, demolished the lies about Negroes in their most important and creative period of history. The truths he revealed are not yet the property of all Americans but they have been recorded and arm us for our contemporary battles.
In Black Reconstruction Dr. Du Bois dealt with the almost universally accepted concept that civilization virtually collapsed in the South during Reconstruction because Negroes had a measure of political power. Dr. Du Bois marshalled irrefutable evidence that, far from collapsing, the Southern economy was recovering in these years. Within five years the cotton crop had been restored, and in the succeeding five years had exceeded pre-war levels. At the same time other economic activity had ascended so rapidly the rebirth of the South was almost completed.
Beyond this he restored to light the most luminous achievement of the Reconstruction-it brought free public education into existence not only for the benefit of the Negro, but it opened school doors to the poor whites. He documented the substantial body of legislation that was socially so useful it was retained into the twentieth century even though the Negroes who helped to write it were brutally disenfranchised and driven from political life. He revealed that, far from being the tragic era white historians described, it was the only period in which democracy existed in the South. This stunning fact was the reason the history books had to lie because to tell the truth would have acknowledged the Negroes’ capacity to govern and fitness to build a finer nation in a creative relationship with poor whites.
With the completion of his book Black Reconstruction, despite its towering contributions, despite his advanced age, Dr. Du Bois was still not ready to accept a deserved rest in peaceful retirement. His dedication to freedom drove him on as relentlessly in his seventies as it did in his twenties. He had already encompassed three careers. Beginning as a pioneer sociologist, he had become an activist to further mass organization. The activist had then transformed himself into an historian. By the middle of the twentieth century, when imperialism and war arose once more to imperil humanity, he became a peace leader. He served as chairman of the Peace Information Bureau and, like the Rev. William Sloane Coffin and Dr. Benjamin Spock of today, he found himself indicted by the government and harried by reactionaries. Undaunted by obstacles and repression, with his characteristic fortitude he fought on. Finally in 1961 with Ghana’s independence established, an opportunity opened to begin the writing of an African Encyclopedia, and in his ninety third year he emigrated to Ghana to begin new intellectual labors. In 1963 death finally came to this most remarkable man.
It is axiomatic that he will be remembered for his scholarly contributions and organizational attainments. These monuments are imperishable. But there were human qualities less immediately visible that are no less imperishable.
Dr. Du Bois was a man possessed of priceless dedication to his people. The vast accumulation of achievement and public recognition were not for him pathways to personal affluence and a diffusion of identity. Whatever else he was, with his multitude of careers and professional titles, he was first and always a black man. He used his richness of talent as a trust for his people. He saw that Negroes were robbed of so many things decisive to their existence that the theft of their history seemed only a small part of their losses. But Dr. Du Bois knew that to lose one’s history is to lose one’s self-understanding and with it the roots for pride. This drove him to become a historian of Negro life, and the combination of his unique zeal and intellect rescued for all of us a heritage whose loss would have profoundly impoverished us.
Dr. Du Bois the man needs to be remembered today when despair is all too prevalent. In the years he lived and fought, there was far more justification for frustration and hopelessness, and yet his faith in his people never wavered. His love and faith in Negroes permeate every sentence of his writings and every act of his life. Without these deeply rooted emotions his work would have been arid and abstract. With them his deeds were a passionate storm that swept the filth of falsehood from the pages of established history.
He symbolized in his being his pride in the black man. He did not apologize for being black and, because of it, handicapped. Instead he attacked the oppressor for the crime of stunting black men. He confronted the establishment as a model of militant manhood and integrity. He defied them and, though they heaped venom and scorn on him, his powerful voice was never stilled.
And yet, with all his pride and spirit he did not make a mystique out of blackness. He was proud of his people, not because their color endowed them with some vague greatness but because their concrete achievements in struggle had advanced humanity, and he saw and loved progressive humanity in all its hues, black, white, yellow, red, and brown.
Above all he did not content himself with hurling invectives for emotional release and then to retire into smug, passive satisfaction. History had taught him it is not enough for people to be angry-the supreme task is to organize and unite people so that their anger becomes a transforming force. It was never possible to know where the scholar Du Bois ended and the organizer Du Bois began. The two qualities in him were a single, unified force. This life style of Dr. Du Bois is the most important quality this generation of Negroes needs to emulate.
The educated Negro who is not really part of us and the angry militant who fails to organize us have nothing in common with Dr. Du Bois. He exemplified black power in achievement and he organized black power in action. It was no abstract slogan to him.
We cannot talk of Dr. Du Bois without recognizing that he was a radical all of his life. Some people would like to ignore the fact that he was a Communist in his later years. It is worth noting that Abraham Lincoln warmly welcomed the support of Karl Marx during the Civil War and corresponded with him freely. In contemporary life the Englishspeaking world has no difficulty with the fact that Sean O’Casey was a literary giant of the twentieth century and a Communist or that Pablo Neruda is generally considered the greatest living poet though he also served in the Chilean Senate as a Communist. It is time to cease muting the fact that Dr. Du Bois was a genius and chose to be a Communist. Our irrational, obsessive anti-communism has led us into too many quagmires to be retained as if it were a mode of scientific thinking.
In closing, it would be well to remind white America of its debt to Dr. Du Bois. When they corrupted Negro history they distorted American history, because Negroes are too big a part of the building of this nation to be written out of it without destroying scientific history. White America, drenched with lies about Negroes, has lived too long in a fog of ignorance. Dr. Du Bois gave them a gift of truth for which they should eternally be indebted to him.
Negroes have heavy tasks today. We were partially liberated and then re-enslaved. We have to fight again on old battlefields, but our confidence is greater, our vision is clearer, and our ultimate victory surer because of the contributions a militant, passionate black giant left behind him.
Dr. Du Bois has left us but he has not died. The spirit of freedom is not buried in the grave of the valiant. He will be with us when we go to Washington in April to demand our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
We have to go to Washington because they have declared an armistice in the war on poverty while squandering billions to expand a senseless, cruel, unjust war in Vietnam. We will go there, we will demand to be heard, and we will stay until the administration responds. If this means forcible repression of our movement, we will confront it, for we have done this before. If this means scorn or ridicule, we will embrace it, for that is what America’s poor now receive. If it means jail, we accept it willingly, for the millions of poor already are imprisoned by exploitation and discrimination.
Dr. Du Bois would be in the front ranks of the peace movement today. He would readily see the parallel between American support of the corrupt and despised Thieu-Ky regime and Northern support to the Southern slave masters in 1876. The CIA scarcely exaggerates, indeed it is surprisingly honest, when it calculates for Congress that the war in Vietnam can persist for one hundred years. People deprived of their freedom do not give up—Negroes have been fighting more than a hundred years, and even if the date of full emancipation is uncertain, what is explicitly certain is that the struggle for it will endure.
In conclusion let me say that Dr. Du Bois’ greatest virtue was his committed empathy with all the oppressed and his divine dissatisfaction with all forms of injustice. Today we are still challenged to be dissatisfied. Let us be dissatisfied until every man can have food and material necessities for his body, culture and education for his mind, freedom and until rat-infested, vermin-filled slums will be a thing of a dark past and every family will have a decent, sanitary house in which to live. Let us be dissatisfied until the empty stomachs of Mississippi are filled and the idle industries of Appalachia are revitalized. Let us be dissatisfied until brotherhood is no longer a meaningless word at the end of a prayer but the first order of business on every legislative agenda. Let us be dissatisfied until our brother of the Third World- Asia, Africa, and Latin America-will no longer be the victim of imperialist exploitation, but will be lifted from the long night of poverty, illiteracy, and disease. Let us be dissatisfied until this pending cosmic elegy will be transformed into a creative psalm of peace and “justice will roll down like waters from a mighty stream.”
The Centennial Address delivered by Nobel Laureate Dr. Martin Luther King at Carnegie Hall in New York City, February 23, 1968. The occasion was the International Cultural Evening sponsored by FREEDOMWAYS Magazine on the 100th birthday of Dr. W.E.B. Du Bois and launching an “International Year” (1968) honoring his life and works.
People ask: But can Rahm really be forced from office? The answer is YES, he really can and likely will be.
True, his narcissism knows no bounds, and his ego is as big as all outdoors—he won’t go easily or quietly. True, there’s no legal mechanism at this point. And true, he has a large set of lap-dogs on the city council licking his ass.
But never underestimate People Power. The city is not returning to “normal” and we won’t forget. The streets are on fire. The national Democrats are sweating it out, and it’s a matter of time before the long knives are out. Et tu, Hillary? And if the pressure keeps up and the demands for real structural change keep developing and deepening, the capitalist class will move beyond grumbling and say “Enough.” His high crimes and misdemeanors are egregious, but when the system shakes at its foundations, he’s gone. But it won’t be enough, and at that point we should escalate the fight for real, systemic change.
Dare to Struggle! Dare to Win!