ITATIONS OF RAS ANTATOLE

Ras Anatole, the lead singer of Mind, Body, and Spirit, a RastafarI Elder, is a voice that has been chanting in Virginia for quite a time. These never before seen writings are a testament of this Idren's willingness to share and do his part in a movement he has witnessed and known all too well. InI the Babe and Suckling.com give thanks for the privilege.

FIRE IS BURNING

November 1998

This is livicated to my parents, my reason for living and breathing.

Religion not withstanding, there has been a large amount of information written regarding one individual: that individual is JESUS CHRIST. Volumes and chapters livicated to telling us of HIS divinity, prophethood and humanitarianism have been written. There are those who say that HE is GOD Himself as part of an Almighty trinity; THE FATHER, SON and HOLY GHOST. There are some who, while acknowledging HIS greatness and HIS contribution to spirituality do not attribute to HIM any divinity. They reject the notion of a trinity. Still others say HE did nothing but rabble rouse and stir up trouble against the status quo. They reject not only the idea that HE is divine, but that HE served much of a purpose at all. However HE is viewed by us as individuals the fact remains that JESUS CHRIST is one of the most revered men to have ever lived.

My first introduction to JESUS CHRIST was through the Catholic church and its' teachings. Therein I learned that CHRIST is GOD. I learned of HIS great compassion. I learned of HIS great sorrow. I learned of HIS miracles. Catechism classes chronicled HIS childhood and HIS calling to return HIS people to the right path. HIS struggles against authority were detailed for me in a way that I was able to see that indeed, this is the greatest human to have ever lived; the one man without blemish. No harshness or anger was ever attributed to HIM. I still know this to be true.

As the years went by and I matured into adolescence and then into young adulthood I became aware of other schools of thought regarding religion. I found out that there are people who don't believe in GOD at all. Others who say they don't know if there is a GOD. My young head was about to explode. I had been taught that CHRIST prophesied of a triumphant return to human form as the KING OF KINGS AND THE LORD OF LORDS. It would be necessary to return because HE would be killed by the powers that be after being vilified, ridiculed and held in contempt. My earliest teachings pointed to the office of the papacy as the vehicle through which CHRIST returned. I came at odds with myself when my belief in that notion started to wane. I began to see a tear in the fabric of that logic. My prayers were answered in a way that initially led me to reject any religion. To me it was like finding out the truth about Santa Claus, how could I be lied to so effectively and sincerely by those I held in the highest esteem? The reason I could not continue with Catholicism is that the priest could not answer for me why there had been so many popes when prophesy said there would be one return that would set in motion a time table of events which would lead ultimately to the end of the world as we knew it.

Other forms of Christianity were for me out of reach because I wanted to reject totally the idea of GOD as man. I may have even wanted to reject the idea of GOD altogether. Mans' inhumanity to man was obvious. Racism, sexism; it was apparent to me that things were messed up. I stumbled around for years in a spiritual void. I found myself studying, though not practising ISLAM. I found a great deal of beauty and truth doing so. I found out other things about JESUS CHRIST and HIS life which rekindled my desire to know more. I had been taught that prayers will be answered, I still did not see the answers clearly. I delved into BUDDHISM, a spiritual philosophy which made CHRISTIANITY AND ISLAM look like babies in its' wake. Johnnies come lately. I found out there is a God head, which was/is not BUDDHA, but a spiritual being residing in a region which like the spiritual being of CHRISTIANITY, ISLAM and JUDAISM, is everywhere. BUDDHISM opened a door for me which reflected an image of human divine capability which led me once again to JESUS CHRIST. This time HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY EMPEROR HAILE SELASSIE THE FIRST came to my attention.

I had often wondered what role AFRICA played in the story of CHRISTIANITY. It became evident to me that something was amiss in the racial lineage of JESUS CHRIST. ALl of my perceptions had me visioning a Caucasian type Jew person. This made me wonder why GOD would be so selective of one 'race' and so rejective of others. I reconciled this dilemma through prayer. It is true that all humanity has a common origin, from one race. The people from AFRICA gave the world the original hue-men and women and from there stem all of our modern races. Thus the image of CHRIST began to reflect a more dark hue. HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY gave me a definite face and now I could look upon 'GOD'.

As of now I am a member of a group which understands the difficulties experienced by the Apostles and Disciples of JESUS. I now know how deep the feelings of resentment run toward people with human frailties, just as I am. Their task, when given to them was, to shake up the understanding of the people at the time. Most rejected what they had to say then and some reject it even today. We have to remember that ISLAM as it is practised today did not exist. The Prophet MUHAMMAD had to wait several hundred years before he was to come and attempt to return ISLAM from paganistic infanticide to a pristine reality that respected human life. So the people I am speaking most about are the people of Christs' origin, the Jews, and the authoritarians of the day, the Italians. Rome is Italy plain and simple. JESUS found out that HE could be sold out to the highest bidder just as MUHAMMAD would be and countless others before and after them, by their own kind. Even though JUDAISM has been usurped by modern day descendants of a twist of fate, the Jews of ancient times rejected HIM, as do the Jews of today.

The Bible has prophecies directly attributed to JESUS that are pushed aside today. Not the least is the telling to Peter that HIS church would be built where he (Peter) willed. However, we find very little written by Peter in the Bible. On the other hand, there is abundant information by Paul also known as Saul written in the Bible. This written by a man who never walked with JESUS. There are some I know who have argued that this only intensifies his (Pauls') words. That his faith is greater, because he did not walk with CHRIST. I say pay attention to JESUS and not Paul and take JESUS at HIS word. Out of ETHIOPIA did HE come again. The ONE who makes the sun, moon and stars. The ONE who gives us our mind, body and spirit. HE is man again to deliver us to the next level. HE is the POWER of the TRINITY, HAILE SELASSIE the FIRST. Finally I was satisfied. I could see clearly what was in front of me. I wondered how it is that everyone could not see. Then I remembered that in the wake of all JESUS did with witnesses, HE was still rejected and scorned. HAILE SELASSIE led HIS life praising HIMSELF. HE led HIS public and private life as a Christian. From the moment of HIS birth the elders of the Ethiopian church knew who HE was. The name HAILE SELASSIE was conferred on HIM at birth. In Ethiopia there have been countless men named Haile, which means power, and scores more named HAILE SELASSIE. He was/is the first and only. The Ethiopian church has been shrouded in secrecy. It was not as well known as the other denominations of Christianity. Ethiopia itself had remained hidden from the world. It still remains today the only country in Africa which was not consistently colonized by European monarchies. Attempts were made but all were thwarted. I dare say that the Second World War was fought to make an attempt to remove SELASSIE from Godhead. It is well know that the Papacy blessed bombs dropped on Ethiopia during that war. What we saw, although veiled, was a clash of religious beliefs. The Italians seeking to squash the newly coronated KING of KINGS. It is fact seventy two (72) different nations sent representatives to the coronation of HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY in November of 1930. It is also fact all the Kings of Europe abdicated their powers. They turned over ruling status to either the Queens or Prime Ministers. For forty five (45) years HIS MAJESTY ruled Ethiopia. As Ethiopia emerged on the stage of internationalism, it (The Monarchy) became a threat. Some "Christians" started to pay attention to what had taken place. Like Christians before them, they began to reject Papal rule. They started to talk about HAILE SELASSIE as JESUS returned in HIS Kingly character as the Bible had prophesied. This as in JESUS' time was more than some would take. They liked the way things were. It would be too much work to see things differently. HAILE SELASSIE, while never declaring HIMSELF divine, did some remarkably divine things. The actual witnesses to these events may not be here to tell us themselves. As the Apostles before them their lives have ended, but words, deeds and truth have way of finding witnesses, none the less. HIS MAJESTY fulfilled all prophecy.

I do as little as I can to continue the insanity we now live. I am a descendant of both the slave and the slave master. The confusion is overwhelming us. Has overwhelmed us to the degree that we by and large do not know what role we are to play. Therein lies a large amount of our dilemma. I know that a I am not the only one to suffer such a malais of being mixed racially. I relish this knowledge. Remember I am fully aware that all races stem from an origin in Africa. So being a member of the human race, I thank JAH for giving me a dark hue in this life. Even if my hue were lighter, I feel I would have reached the same conclusion. I do not play. Word sound being power, I fully realize the relationship language has to our down/oppression. The english language does not allow us to express our heartfelt emotions.

I am serious. Everything I do is geared toward praising the CREATOR. Everything I do is geared to righting the wrongs which we continue to perpetuate. We must come to terms with our mixed status. Very few of us are racially pure, if any. We can continue to skirt the issue and deny reality. We must declare the Human Race pure and accept our part in it. Whatever role our ancestors fulfilled, we must accept what has come our way. Seek justice. When justice is examined we will know what to do.

Light or white America will admit that the monster which is now in its' midst, is of its' own making. Had Africans been left out of chattel slavery, America would not be as it is. All of the high sounding words of the founding fathers were not directed to the hue men and women who were enslaved. For centuries, millions of hue people were made to feel second rate, less than, put upon. Families were not encouraged. Quite the contrary, families were summarily destroyed. Family members sold away, tortured and killed and never paid a dime for their troubles. JUSTICE. The word cries out for recognition.

I do accept the fact that because of my hue I am descended largely from those classified as slaves. More than probable, my slave master blood was introduced under some sort of duress. Being a direct descendant of slaves, I wholly understand the deficit my people today suffer because my fore fathers were not paid. I also recognize the advantage the descendants of the slave master who have a lighter hue enjoy. I know that today the litany of the aforementioned descendants of the slave master is they are not guilty of owning slaves. However, they do enjoy the advantage of spending monies that rightfully belong to we descendants of slaves. I dare say light or white America is spending the interest on the money that was banked on the life, blood, sweat and tears of their slaves for five hundred and forty (540) years. I dare say that. I say you today are as guilty as your fore fathers because you have not addressed this problem. The diversity of our lives cries out for justice. Your fore fathers embarked on a journey of tyranny and bigotry unprecedented in the annals of time. As mentioned before families were destroyed. Guile and cunning were foisted on people who accepted them generally with open arms. I will never nor do I want to know what it takes to be a down/oppressor. Therein lies a percentage of our problem. We, being culpable also in our own enslavement, had no idea the degree of depravity, slavery in the west, at the hands of those light or white people would stoop. We did not fathom the levels of wickedness people could reach. The question remains, why? Why was the course of chattel slavery embarked upon? More important, how do we heal ourselves?

I am out of the worldly maelstrom of recrimination and wickedness. This mind set of oppression and separation, is I feel, nearing an end. I fully recognize the criminal justice system is in and of its' self criminal. I recognize that the job ahead is seemingly insurmountable. I have gone beyond anger. I have reached a place of understanding wherein I know what needs to be done. We humans cannot do it. We need a cataclysmic happening greater than the flood of Noah. The HAND of the ALMIGHTY CREATOR has to reach out unto us on this planet and right the wrongs done to everyone. Only then will justice be understood, will justice carry the swing. HE alone understands why we deserve what we get.

As I have said, my life started with an understanding of GOD through the Catholic church of the 1950's and 1960's. At present, "1998", I do not know the position taken by the Catholic church on the role of the Pope. However, I know that the triumphant return of my LORD and SAVIOR came in the personage of HAILE SELASSIE the FIRST of Ethiopia.

Not long from now we should witness the third very spiritual incarnation of the Godhead. No carpenter son, no human kingly manifestation, but the prophecy in the book of REVELATION which describes "Judgment Day". The day in which it will be removed from us any responsibility for deciding our own fate. Until that time it is incumbent on us to define a role, take a positive position and truly be the best we can be for everyone involved. Our eternal spiritual life depends on the position we take.

Volcanoes, brush fires, forest fires, tornadoes, hurricanes, monsoons, typhoons and the like are natures' way of protecting the life of the earth. Because the earth is a perpetual motion machine it needs lubrication. This lubrication comes from the life that is existent on the planet. You and me, canines and felines, birds, insects, reptiles and the like. Bears, deer, skunks and anything you may think of with life. Microscopic life. Name it and with death the earth sets in motion the process of decomposing and reclaiming. It forms its lubrication through a means which breaks everything down to fossil fuel or crude oil. This oil is stored in pockets from where when needed the earth uses these deposits to lubricate itself. Man has found ways to use the earths' deposits. Plastics, gasoline, motor oil and the like are manufactured by man. The earths' oil supply, which takes millions of years to form, is used up with impunity by man. Global warming and catastrophes are the direct result of mans' refusal to see the truth. We are our own worst enemy. We were created in harmony with and from our surroundings. We have forgotten our pristine reality and it has been replaced by a desire to destroy ourselves. Self loathing is perhaps our greatest sin. Because of it we go about our lives tearing down everything natural and replacing it with the unnatural. Eating the flesh or our fellow oxygen breathers, scouring the seas and destroying the life therein. Wreaking havoc with permanent cities. Attempting to blast off the planet and pollute outer space. These seemingly well minded people are unable to fathom the relative nature of their actions. Most attend churches and pray to GOD (JESUS or ALLAH). However, upon leaving the holy confines of the church, synagogue or mosque, they systematically uphold the status quo of today, all the while rejecting the spiritual teaching they have been given. Why? Because they have a job to do, they have bills to pay and lives to capitalize on. Just as the people of old, we attempt to hold on to what we know; even when it is wrong. We reject truth. We like it the way it is.

As I said before "Judgment Day" is upon us. The time when we will have no choice. We will be forced to face ourselves. It will not be a human face we will look upon. Those of us who will be able to see, that is. Others will enter the hell of not being able to look upon the Divine Spiritual Countenance of the CREATOR: the hell of remorse over deeds unseemly. Will we learn or will we burn? The fire is burning; the fire of justice, the fire of truth and the fire of everlasting contentment.

COME WITH ME I AM GOING TO ZION
COME WITH ME I AM TRODDING ON THROUGH
COME LET US GO IT WILL NOT BE LONG NOW
JUSTICE IS THERE WE CAN SING OUR SONG
COME WITH ME I AM GOING TO ZION
TO THAT PLACE WE ALL BELONG

Selah

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THE BIRTH OF TERROR

1999

All that could seen was a glint of light reflecting off of a piece of metal which lay wedged between two pieces of wood. This in what was left of Abdur Ramis' home. The bombs came swiftly, more swift than was thought. The warnings had been sounding all night. People were contacting friends and loved ones, family members, anyone that could be thought of. There was a very heavy feeling of dread in the air. At the first sound of explosion, everyone huddled together praying they would be spared. Abdur Ramis' family was a tight knit group. They had endured the war with Iran, had suffered through the aftermath of the smart bomb attacks. This was only the latest drama they hoped to survive. The sound of explosions was quite near and moving closer. In all the conflicts they had endured, this was proving to be the closest yet. No one had any idea which areas were to be targeted. Soon, very soon this family was going to realize the ultimate hell.

As the sounds of explosions grew increasingly loud, Abdur Ramis' sense of dread increased. He did not want Sanjah to see the fear in his eyes. So he kept them diverted toward ALLAH. When the first bomb hit their small house, everything went immediately dark. His initial thought was for his wife and children. As much as he had wanted to keep everyone together, he found this to be impossible. Panic set in and the children went running toward what they remembered to be the front door. Abdur Rami witnessed their destruction as the next bombs' flash illuminated in his minds' eye the exact moment his children disintegrated. The force of this next bomb threw Abdur Rami and his wife in opposite directions. Then like the thunder from a storm the sound of explosions diminished until the only sounds were the sounds of anguish. As his mind cleared, reality set in. Abdur Rami found himself trapped under how much rubble he could not tell. Deafening screams were all around. Neighbors cried out for loved ones. He saw over and over again in his mind the destruction of his children. He called out to Sanjah, but there was no answer. Why? Oh why ALLAH? Why so much suffering? Why? Why? Why? He lost consciousness. He knew it must be day because light was reflecting off of a piece of metal wedged in front of him. He called to his wife. He could hear voices around him and although he could detect desperation, the cries of anguish were not so incessant. There was no response from Sanjah. He relived over and over again his childrens' death. He could only guess at the fate of his wife. He must have lost consciousness again because he no longer saw any light. As he listened he became aware of people attempting to rescue those alive and buried in the rubble. He tried to move for the first time and was made immediately aware that he was not only trapped, but injured very bad. He had no idea how bad. He called out to what sounded like rescuers. Yes, he was certain he heard sounds of digging. The pain was starting to subside. He relaxed as well as he could under the circumstance and led his rescuers to him. As far as he could figure, it had taken them an hour to dig all the debris thrown on him by the bombs. When freed from his would be tomb, he learned the fate of his beloved Sanjah. She had died under a massive slab of asphalt which had been ripped up and thrown onto their house by the force of the bomb which landed directly in front of their house. The same bomb that killed his children. How sad he felt. How hopeless. How useless. Unable to protect those he loved most in life. Sad, hopeless, useless, helpless. Why did he live and they die? Why? It is all so senseless. He cursed the infidel americans. How dare they come to his country. Tell them what to do. Tell them they cannot choose their own destiny. As the messages had been flashed over the media for years, this is a Holy War. We are being manipulated by paranoids. Because they have been the only ones to use weapons of mass destruction, now they fear the development of these same weapons by others. Yes, they know. What goes around comes around. Abdur Rami thinks as he lays in the hospital, my children, my wife were not making weapons of mass destruction. He vowed to his dying breath to bring death to the infidels. He joined the Holy War.

Let me tell you this, I am not now nor have I ever been a crook. I am merely a man. I have the frailties of man. None of us are perfect. I have sinned against my oath as a husband, but I have not impuned my job. My job is to govern this great land and its' people. I feel I have done that. My indiscretion is such that I have betrayed my wife and daughter. I have lied about an aspect of my life that no one should be privileged to. I declare now that the questions about my personal life should not have been asked in the first place. What person in my position, when approached by anyone inquiring about how, when or where a sexual act was performed would be absolutely forthcoming with the information. I want to say this now, I honestly never thought it would reach this point.

Honey, will you turn that down, I can't hear Shelly.

Portrait of another family oblivious to the drama being played out in Iraq. The Klickendorfs sit in their home far removed from Abdur Rami and those like him; the victims of the bombings. You have John Klickendorf, a banker for seventeen years, Annabelle Klickendorf, affectionately known as Belle, works with friends at Mary Kay cosmetics. Their children Katie, seventeen, Shelly, twelve and John Jr., ten.

At that moment Belle was listening to Shelly recite the address she was to deliver to her class as part of her latest project.

John reached over to the remote and hit the mute button. Belle, come here, you've got to hear this. Kids come here too. They all sat spread out in front of the t.v. and listened as the president of the United States of America admitted that he lied.

I really didn't. I fully understand now the adage, what is done in the dark will be brought to light. Lust took over my character. I am not going to say everyone does it. Even if everyone else did, I should have been the one who did not. I got caught in a maelstrom I could not control. I thought I could ride out the storm. I sought to protect myself, when I was viciously attacked by those who would seek to discredit me anyway they could.

As the President remarked about his infidelity, John thought of his lovers. There had been many, more than John cared to remember. He particularly remembered the cute blond who approached him three years before concerning a loan for a new business. He remembered how happy he was to find the blond coming on to him. His position had afforded him many opportunities. People loved his power. He used it to his great advantage. With a movement of his pen, he was able to determine whether or not a persons' dream would be realized or not. His dreams were realized many times over. He remembered how after the first meeting with the cute blond, there were many more. He was head over heels in love. He wanted to end his sham of a marriage. Why, he wondered, had he married Annabelle anyway. She was not very attractive, at least not to him anymore. He remembered how they had met. The years went by so quickly. He thought about the birth of each child. How guilty he felt. He knew he was homosexual. He had thought about being raped at the hands of some older boys. They had said he looked like a sissy, so he might as well be one. After the initial disgust and shame, he realized he was unable to look the straight life in the eye. He found himself compelled to seek homosexual love in a very heterosexual looking environment. He found a world of secrecy he had never dreamt about. He prayed he would never be in the predicament the President was in right now.

Abdur Rami was recovering from his wounds. He was reconciling himself to the fact that he would be living life without his family. He wept every time he remembered them and he remembered them all the time. He had little idea what was going on in america. He could not fathom why they had done this. He reasoned with himself that the reports were correct. The americans had targeted them for annihilation. That in their unreasonableness they were not going to understand that the Iraqis were only asking for their country to be restored in full. He prayed for an opportunity to strike back at the infidels. He wanted to deliver a blow as devastating as he felt.

Jonathan Spivey sat in front of his t.v. set so upset he could not believe it. What he was hearing was a man caught with his pants down was trying to get his attackers to relent. He was attempting to get his enemies to stop bombing him. All the while presiding over and ordering his charges to dispatch death and destruction on people Jonathan did not believe they should be suffering. Jonathan did not know Abdur Rami. He did not know John Klickendorf. He did know if he was an Iraqi, he would be mad as hell. Hell, he was an american and he was mad as hell. He was starting to believe it didn't matter what the people wanted. He had called his state representatives and told them that he didn't feel all this was necessary. He and everybody he talked to felt the same way. He saw no reason to rake the presidency over the coals. Wrong is wrong and two wrongs don't make a right. He agreed with the president. He would have lied too. You have to the way people act when you get caught fooling around. Everybody fools around anyway. Hell, that little Monica girl wanted to do it anyway. Let's just figure how to not get caught that's all. That's why Jonathan was sitting by himself, his woman had caught him fooling around. Now neither woman will give him the time of day. He thought, what would he do if bombs were falling around him?

Abdur Rami, John Klickendorf nor Jonathan Spivey thought much about why all the bombs were falling either in Baghdad or on capital hill. Each had his personal circumstance to deal with. It had been lost on each of them that this was a territorial battle in both cases. In the case of Iraq, the entire conflict is predicated on the annexing of an entire region of a sovereign nation by might and force. In so far as the proceedings against the president were concerned, they grew out of an attempt to link the then governor of a state to unscrupulous dealings on several fronts. This carried over to his presidency and now has caught up with him way down the line. He was able to cover his tracks when money was concerned, but an affair of the heart reduced him to scorn.

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WE DO NOT MAKE POLICY!

1992

Coming home was the greatest chore. Working from can't see to can't see. We would be looking for some relief from the days drudgery.

Sadie? Where you at woman? Silence. No fire in the shanty. Not even a hint of warmth. No smell of food cooking. Now you know Sadie a slave like you are, you know she subject. Your minds' eye searching your memory to remember what she look like. Could she done been sold? Never see her again. Oh Jesus! Massah didn't kill her did he? Where oh where is Sadie? Your mind racing.

You remember the first time you saw her. She was so shattered after having been womaned up by massah. All vulnerable, barely thirteen and already a woman. Her dark skin ashen as she lay battered and abused. As time went by she was coaxed back into the numbing reality of slavery. You saw the coldness creeping into her eyes, then acceptance. You can remember when you started to love her, maybe it was right then. Maybe it was, when no matter how many times massah called for Sadie, she returned with her head held high; seemingly undaunted. You knew her spirit was not broken. You also know that is what massah wanted, to break every spirit and reduce all of you to abject victims. When at fifteen Sadie had massahs' child you could see the years crashing in on her. What to do now? This little boy, looking remarkably like massah, is a reality. As he lay there clawing the air, crying for attention: none is forth coming. Sadie has been unable to reconcile herself to accept the child. Massah is finished with her since she got a pickny. Massah don't look after the child. All Sadie knows is that no one around her has been willing to help her. Help her even understand why these things have happened. It is not enough for her to know that she is not the only one. It has happened so many times before to countless other little girls just like her.

Now years later you return home to find the shanty dark. Several possibilities, somebody got to know. Next door where the baby is you find out it ain't the worst things. She ain't been sold and she ain't dead. Even though in her mind at that time she wishes she was.

Overseer Johnson done come got eighteen year old Sadie for the night, to do with her what he does. Brutal, unloving he treats everyone bad, especially slave girls. A consolation is he is usually drunk and sometimes, if you're lucky he just passes out. Other times he is so quick that that part is out the way. But then you have to lay there til' get up time, smelling him and feeling his brutalness against you. Oh how at those times you longed for some protection from someone, anyone. No parents, you were sold to massah Tisdale when you was twelve years old. Alone and frightened, groomed to be massahs' wench, you got pregnant. Turned out by massah, you were very fortunate that Ty Spriggs took to you. He looked at you with affection and gentleness. It was him who brought you around from absolute degradation. Brought into perspective for you the reasons for existing. Not even he can protect you from this though. After massah, it was still your duty to service the other white men if they wanted you, when they wanted you, and Johnson had wanted you tonight.

As you approached the shanty you could see the faint glow of the oil lamp. Ty was up for the fields. Staggering from exhaustion, you stepped into the shanty. Pushing back the oil cloth covering the door way. As your eyes met, the first impression was relief, then shame. You because you had to experience that again, him because he was powerless to stop it again. The reunion was strained to say the least; self recrimination from both sides. Neither of you capable of making policy. Dictated to at every turn. VICTIMS!

In 1998 we still do not make policy. We are dictated to just as we were in 1798, by racists. Every law is conjured to assure that our way of life never resurfaces. Anti-life is the order of the day. As we look about us we see evidence of the wickedness that is so pervasive in a society which was built on cruelty and degradation. A society which was built by robbing one set of people of dignity and some lives(the yellow man and woman) another set of people were robbed of their dignity, language, culture and many lives(the black man and woman). Still another set of people were systematically eradicated(the red man and woman). Another set of people were created by the rape of all three previously mentioned people; yellow, black and red by the racists(brown people). With these five sets of people now on the planet, there is a great global imbalance. So the true policy makers are busy exploring other areas to plunder and pollute. Their attempts to blast off into outer space may be the last straw. It is well prophesied that every arrogant willful nation(society) will fall. When you attack the CREATOR, you will fall.

We, existing today, look into each others' eyes and immediately feel relief. Then we feel shame because we cannot protect or be protected. We acquiesce. We accept. Then we blame each other. We argue. We separate. We are defeated once again. We do not see that we do not make policy. We are handed down from massah to overseer now just as we were two hundred years ago. The chains are on our brains. Everything we learn is a bastardized form of the truth. We are victims of this society no matter if we are black, brown, red or yellow. If we think we are not, we are fools. Policy is set and we are told what to do. We have no way to protect our women. They do not have any faith in us men black brown, red or yellow.

It took two thousand seasons, which is five hundred years in order for the continent of Africa to be softened up for the slave trade. Five hundred more years to develop Sadie and Ty. They knew they loved each other, they just could not forget. Forget the degradation they both suffered.

That day it seemed that overseer Johnson was particularly hard on Ty. Nothing he did was right. Smug whip cracker, sittin' on his horse, spittin' tobacco, Ty had to do everything over. Yeah, he was sure Johnson was pickin' at him. In the afternoon Ty heard overseer Johnson talkin' 'bout his wench las' night. Said that gal wailed and hollered so much he had to put a sock in her mouth to shut her up. Tys' anger risin', mad as hell, he wanted to whip hell outta Johnson, wanted to drag that whip cracker off that horse and smash his smug face flat wit' a rock. Ty knew he was talkin' about Sadie. He ached as he thought about Sadie in the clutches of that scruffy overseer. He shut his eyes and tried to shut out the pain. Just then he felt the sting of the whip 'cross his back. "Git to work boy, you good for nothin'". "Standin' 'round ain't gittin' this heah work done". "Is you sleepy boy"? "Me, I got a good night rest". "I had this wench all night". "Best wench I had in a while, real loud, yeah boy, real loud".

Meanwhile, Sadie was back at the shanty trying to once again make sense of her existence. She wanted to feel something, but she was numb. There was nothing for her to do right then. No one had come to her shanty. As she sat deep in thought, she heard the shrill scream of a baby. She felt a stir, then a dull ache. She became violently ill. The incessant cry of the child was deafening. She knew it was her offspring but she could not go to it. She hated herself because of it. She hated her momma for lettin' her be sold. She hated all the slaves on the plantation 'cause they was like her, powerless. Why? She wanted to know. Why? What is this peculiar institution and why is she part of it? She remembered the day the child was born. She had never felt anything so terrible. Except for the night massah womaned her up, she had no memory of more pain. Last night with Johnson, he kept on tellin' her she won't nothin' 'cause he couldn't git it up. Finally after several attempts he was able to do his business. That over wit', he went to sleep; loud and stinking of tobacco and whiskey. Snapped back to now, Sadie heard Louise call her name. Louise, the slave what took the child to raise. She said she ain't never experienced what is happenin' now. Baby Arlen was turnin' blue. Screamin' and turnin' blue. Sadie didn't care. She had always thought it would be best if the baby was dead. What kind of life is this anyway?

That was all that Ty could take. At that time nothing mattered. With the shovel he had in his hand, he swung up and as hard as he could, smashed Johnson right in his smug whip cracker face. Johnson fell to the ground screaming in agony. Ty hit him again and again 'til there was no sound left. What a moment, how exhilarated he felt. As he looked down at Johnsons' battered body. He felt the weight of several men on him. Trustee John, Earl and overseer Malloy had jumped him. He knew his life was over. He knew slaves had been killed for less. He didn't care. He knew Sadie would understand and appreciate his actions. Ty was twenty years old.

It was three days later. Sadie was alone again. Ty had been beaten to within an inch of his life and then tied up in a tree with honey all over his naked body. A terrible death. To some he was a hero. To others he was just a dumb slave who lost control. He did not make policy.

Once Sadie knew she was pregnant with Johnsons' baby she couldn't live. Her life ended as she implemented her bold plan. Concealed in the folds of her shirt was a very sharp knife. She gained access to massah through a ruse. As she plunged the knife in massah Tisdales' chest, he looked at her with at that moment understanding. She hit him with a hatred that encompassed all the pain she had ever felt. Then she plunged the knife into herself. Right where she felt the baby would be. She ended their lives. She set policy.

1998, Ty and Sadie are figments of my imagination. Sadly, the events portrayed are beyond comprehension. It is unfathomable why such cruelty could have been heaped upon so many. We reflect on the many holocausts which have decimated fellow spirits. What are we to do? Should we continue as we are, forever disturbed? Should we attempt to heal the psychological and emotional wounds left by mans' inhumanity to man?

As many imaginary scenarios as we may be able to envision, reality is the present. We, many of us come to this existence descended from the Tys, Sadies, Tisdales, Johnsons and others; slave and slave masters. That is not imaginary, that is fact. Our lives dictated to by a small group of persons who have come out on top: the policy makers. Our lives are dictated to by the realities of the past.

We have been Ty and Sadie many times over. We have looked at each other and have recognized our plight, but we have lacked the necessary tools to right the wrongs. We have not seen in each other any one able to afford any protection.

I am powerless to protect myself. Had Ty and Sadie lived, their experiences would have not allowed them to continue together. The weight of the circumstance would have overwhelmed them. The weight of living in america is certainly heavy. Everything being relative, Tys' experiences and the experiences of every black man are the same. We cannot have family because family like the policy makers make family is not for us. Truth is we have not had family for four thousand seasons or one thousand years.

WE ARE VICTIMS OF THE GREATEST ONSLAUGHT ON THOUGHT, WORD AND DEED EVER INSTITUTED.

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Site a reasoning by Ras Anataole....

An unrehearsed reasoning with Ras Firenail, a Bro. who through his experiences and freeness of heart explains how he rose to sight RastafarI and makes his voice heard through music and writings on various subjects. Also includes: A BONUS READING BY RAS FIRENAIL!