Blah Blah, Blah Same Old Shit!

Playthell Benjamin comments on the Master of Disaster himself, Donald J. Trump.

Commentaries on the Times

A Master of Disaster

Trump Let’s Generals Make Afghan Policy

Like the unrepentant charlatan that he is, Donald Trump began his speech announcing a “new” policy in Afghanistan with a syrupy sweet call for peace and unity on the home front that was a paragon of duplicity, since he is the main cause of the growing internecine conflict that is engulfing America.  After all, Trump has just recently threatened to throw many men and women that are honorably serving in our armed forces because of their sexual orientation…a matter that has already been settled!

In his shameful amoral refusal to show any sign that he is even able to recognize right from wrong, fascist from anti-fascist, those who stand for freedom and those who would destroy it, his speech sound leaden, phony and unconvincing. Imagine how the many active duty servicemen, many of whom may have already served in a…

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“Oh, the Violins!”–When Vultures Cry

James Alan Fields, Jr. was once known as a “kind” and “shy” young boy–a “gentle giant,” according his teachers and classmates in Kentucky and Ohio. In reality this fat, bloated turnip and self-hating Jew was inwardly a seething mass of white racist ressentiment, who by the 9th grade already held deeply entrenched, radical views on race. Throughout high school he studied intensively the Waffen SS under a Mr. Weimer who, in his words, “used all the tricks to really ram home how evil and wrong the Nazis were” and–upon learning about Mr. Fields’ deliberately running over 14 people at the Charlottesville rally on August 12–“definitely feel like (he) failed.”

Unfortunately, Mr. Weimer did, but he’s not to be faulted for that. If Mr. Weimer can be faulted for anything it was naively thinking he could open a mind which was closed from the start.

As the fallout from “Bleeding Kansas, Part Two” continues¹, many participants and observers seem to be cracking up. Many of them have since revealed themselves as simply being swaggering blowhards who thought this “white power” business was just another good ole fashioned game of “cowboys and Indians.” Jason Kessler, one of the head Nazi goons at the August 12th rally, was chased off the podium by infuriated protesters a few days later when he attempted to clarify what his goon squad had attempted to “achieve” at his “Unite the Right” rally. On the 18th of August, he sent an angry Tweet calling the late Heather Heyer (killed by James Alan Fields) a “fat, disgusting Communist” and that her death was “payback time” for the “94 million” Kessler claims were killed by Communism in the 20th century.² Kessler, of course, has backtracked, denounced his own words as “heinous” and is now claiming that he was drugged out on “Xanax, ambien and booze” when he wrote the tweet. The poor wittle thing is now claiming that he is under a “crushing amount of stress” and receives “daily” death threats. (Wow, Jason. How horrible. Welcome to our world.)

Christopher Cantwell, known as one of the toughest of the tough, one of the most uncompromising of the Nazi horde, made a name for himself by waving his pop-guns around while being interviewed for VICE magazine two years ago. (As a side note, it should be remembered that one of main organizers of “Unite the Right,” Gavin MacInness, was VICE’s chief editor about a decade ago.) In a more recent video an unshaven Mr. Cantwell can be seen sniffling and sobbing and shitting his pants at the very thought that the police might be after him, that he had never intended to be violent, that all that gun-waving he did on his previous videos was just “him talking shit.” The contrast between the previous muscle-bound Ubermensch and the latest driveling, sniffling little puddle of snot could not help but make one laugh. (Again, Chris, welcome to our world.)

And the tears, sniffling and snot rags didn’t end with Can’t-Well. When Donald Trump dragged his feet in responding to the outrage in Charlottesville, many people rightfully suspected that Herr Trump’s true sympathies lay with the neo-Confederates and alt-righters. This writer has always assumed the worst about the Orange Honky, so Trump’s half-assed and weak insinuations that Antifa was really to blame for Charlottesville came as no surprise. But most everyone else in the media was either naively outraged, or “outraged” in the most disingenuous and opportunistic way –like, for instance, certain establishment Republicans/Democrats, such as Paul Ryan, Charles Krauthammer and Mitch McConnell, who took advantage of Trump’s waffling to gain a high moral ground that they had never held in the entirety of their careers: as if it were even possible to attain “moral high ground” in contemporary American politics.

The downpour of crocodile tears and retractions began in earnest and lasted for about a week, especially after Logan began systematically exposing individual members of the Charlottesville rally. Pete Tefft was rightfully disowned by his family, which appears to have some sense of decency. Peter Cvjetanovic, 18, another disaffected white ethnic, angrily claimed that he was “not a Nazi” (all appearances notwithstanding) and was simply “marching with them” because…well, because he liked “white history,” that’s all. No nigger-hater, he. Jarrod Kuhn, a leading organizer and member of the allegedly defunct Daily Stormer, now claimed he was just a “moderate Republican.” (If he is, then that would explain a lot; that would explain Dubya, explain the Iraq War, and probably explain the late Ronald Reagan laying a wreath at the grave of SS soldiers in Germany back in the mid-1980s.)  Kuhn is now whining like a little girl and claiming that his “life is over.” It should have never begun.

Andrew Anglin, webmaster for Daily Stormer, has since decamped for Nigeria to get his chocolate fix. (It has been well known in Nazi circles that Anglin, despite his ferocious hatred for blacks, Muslims and Jews, has a secret sweet tooth for chocolate and caramel. The latter he buys in the Philippines and Cambodia.³) Clay Aiken, once America’s favorite hillbilly crooner, recanted his support for Donald Trump. (Super-jock rapper LL Cool J, however, did not.)

Wendy Osefo and Gianno Caldwell, two establishment Negroes–one left, one right–could be seen shamelessly and stupidly crying last week on Fox News. Abby Huntsman, alleged “journalist” and one of one of Murdoch’s alt-lite pinup girls, sat there sandwiched between the two of them and smirking the whole time. At one point Miss Huntsman shit her pants when negro Neocon Gianno Caldwell blubbered that Trump was “morally bankrupt.” Of course, anyone with a brain knows that such a statement is true, but Abby Cunstman does not. One actually wants to vomit looking at these three: two spades weeping like a couple of kids and that smug, self-satisfied, plastic-surgery-faced half-caste sellout between them, trying to keep the whole ship from drowning in crocodile tears.

These tears continued on Fox for at least another day from Melissa Francis and Kat Timpf, two more of Fox’s resident Playboy bunnies. Miss Francis supports Trump but Kat Timpf went in on the Grand Oompla Loompa, stating “it’s honestly crazy for me to have to comment on this right now, because I’m still in the phase where I’m wondering if it was actually real life what I just watched!” Well, it was, sadly enough. Call it The Unbearable Lightness of Being in Trumplandia, because after seeing the last year unfold one’s head starts to feel that lightness you get when one is about to pass out in horror–not so much for what you have just seen but with a premonition of what’s next.

Soon there was weeping left and right–literally. I didn’t like this silliness, and felt compelled to write this essay just to put all of this into some perspective. The icing on the cake for me was seeing this obese, shirtless, uncombed BLM woman foolishly weeping–again–while confronting an equally obese white man in full Confederate regalia, silent, stoic, unblinking, standing in front of General Lee’s statue in Charlottesville, VA. A bunch of other furious protesters surrounded the fat Rebel with curses and middle fingers. The police finally broke it up and arrested the fat Rebel, handcuffed him, and ever so gently stuffed him in the squad car, to which he responded, “I’m just here to honor him, that’s all.” At that point I would have had to agree with Miss Timpf about the unreality of it all.

America has become a bad Tom and Jerry cartoon. Perhaps it always was, when you think about it. After four centuries of unending, unceasing racial and ethnic violence in North America, the media’s pretended naivete about this basic American reality is worse than disingenuous. Why is Van Jones weeping on YouTube? What is it with all these “poor sapling” tears? I think I know, but I’m simply throwing the question out there for others who may not get it. Whatever the reason for all these crocodile tears, for all this faked outrage over the death of Heather Heyerª (the only person willing to lay down her life to end the alt-right)–please, just cut that out. Cut…That…Shit…Out. You look like a  bunch of idiots. Tears don’t stop fascists, not even crocodile tears.

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Cantwell: “Mommy, help me!!”

I guess that the Negroes to the left and right of us are trying to appeal to the conscience of a neoliberal global order that does not even see them, much less hear them. Or they are trying to appeal to the people living under that order who have been trained from day one neither to see nor to hear each other. Or they are trying to appeal to that small minority within the people who live under the Neoliberal order that can actually still feel, in the hope that they will take to the streets and cry with them in the Great Struggle of Tears to end structural white supremacy. The only problem with this approach is that structural white supremacy is represented not by sandlot bullies like Cantwell, Anglin and David Duke, but by Trump and Bannon, and behind them Hillary & Bill, Bush & Bush, the late Ronald Reagan, the late Margaret Thatcher, Obama, Ronald Dumbsfeld (sic), Theresa May, Jacques Chirac, Angela Merkel, Marcon, Berlusconi and Tony Blair. (The aforementioned people are definitely not Nazis but they certainly paved the way for their return, which is why I hold all of them accountable.)

 

 

Meanwhile Bannon has been kicked out for attacking Trump’s fan base (the neo-Confederates and fascists) and has scooted back to Breitbart, with conflicting reports as to whether he will support or attack Trump. Trump is digging in his heels and attacking the alt-Left, a political nonentity. Spencer is promising more far-right looney tunes in the weeks to come. James Alan Fields and the head of the North Carolina KKK are unapologetic and are not shedding any more tears than the Grand Oompa Loompa is.

Coincidentally it was a Marxist, Takiya Fatima Thompson, who also decided that weeping and wailing was bullshit and decided to buck the center-left trend. She  tore the Confederate statue down in Durham, North Carolina. It’s good to know that some people out there have some sense. Schoolteacher Yvette Felarca, who punched a neo-Nazi, said emphatically and without tears that clocking Nazis in the face was not a crime. And it isn’t. In this writer’s opinion she should have used a beer mug. The whole ideology Nazism anyway is violence personified. (By the way Ms. Falarca punched the Nazi in his stomach, and did not kick the Nazi in his face–unlike one of her white Antifa cohorts who, as I have noticed, has not been charged. So even white far-left radicals get preferential treatment under U.S. law, as opposed to their non-white counterparts. Maybe that explains why there’s been such a dearth of black, brown and yellow men at these demonstrations.)

The charges against Ms. Felarca are absurd. Felarca was, in her words, stabbed in the arm and hit on the head. A photo that I have seen of Felarca with a bandaged forehead confirms this. The Nazi in question–if you see the video–is twice the size of the petite, slender Felarca. I’m pretty sure that the Nazi who got “assaulted” by Ms. Felarca had to be rushed to the intensive care unit after those punches, which did not even bring him down–again, much unlike the white Antifa backers who toppled him into the street.

The pop-news site “Bustle” titles its article on Felarca, “This Middle School Teacher Argues Punching Nazis is Not a Crime.” No shit? General Eisenhower argued that bombing and shooting Nazis wasn’t a crime, either. He became the fucking President in 1953. Ms. Felarca is looking at jail time. What are you trying to get at with that title, Ms. Mendoza?

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Yvette Felarca: “I wont stop”–and no, she doesn’t cry

Many in the alt-right  suddenly lost their backbones when they realized that the establishment was not going to back them up. Of course the establishment is not going to rally to their side. The establishment, which is actually a bigger threat to human rights than Spencer’s ricky-tick Tiki-Torch mob, has its own interests at stake here, and outward displays of white supremacism are not on the agenda at the moment. It is much more important for the Neoliberal establishment (which, despite everything the Keks are spouting, is not in the least Marxist) to continue to build alliances and bridges with Third World billionaire stooges in Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and Latin America, and consistently refine white supremacism to the point where it will no longer resemble fascism at all, but simply something natural. In this new Neoliberal order 500 Sierra Leoneans can perish in the blink of an eye and no one will be outraged to the extent that people were outraged over Ms. Heyer’s death. Those deaths did not register in the Western mind.

And neither did the 65 people shot over the previous weekend in Chicago. Most of them were black, of course, and these shootings were simply “business as usual.” No tears were shed over them. They were “niggers being niggers” to conservatives as well as neoliberals, who would prefer not to call black people “niggers”: that would be bad for business. It wants black people to think, talk and act in ways that define themselves as such. The nigger stereotype must be made real and self-perpetuating, without any work on the behalf of the Neoliberal order. The systematic dehumanization, depersonalization and dislocation of African Americans must continue, but with that air of banality that cuts very close to Hannah Arendt’s own definition of the “banality of evil.” The same goes for Sierra Leone, for Syria, for Venezuela, for the Congo, for the Philippines, for North Korea, and every other nation which Westerners think to be “inferior.” Violence, dysfunction, depersonalization will be defined as “real black/brown/yellow culture” to the Neoliberal order. Come to think of it, it already is. WELCOME TO OUR WORLD.

This is something that those on the Left–those who don’t break down in tears when the shit hits the fan–need to keep in mind. The alt-right are merely the Brown Shirts in this fight; the real assholes are far deeper entrenched politically, culturally and economically, and it will take more than tears and marches to contain their reactionist fuckery. It will take discipline and organization, and patience, forbearance and absolute determination to throw out the organized criminality and insanity that passes for the New World Order.

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“Sob brother, sob sister”…
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…yet no tears from this New Afrikan socialist

*Heather Heyer (1985-2017): “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.”

¹Bleeding Kansas, part one, was a dress-rehearsal for the First Civil War. The Second has yet to begin. According to the late George Carlin, who once joked about Civil War buffs in the 80s who liked to dress up and re-enact key Civil War battles down to the last detail, they do this “just in case we have to go through this again some time.”

²Of course, no one has ever suggested that Heather Heyer should have done the same to Mr. Fields, since corporate fascists and capitalists have killed at least 250 million people since 1800. This number may in fact be quite conservative.

³Anglin’s preference for darker (and underage) girls has made him the butt of ridicule among many hardcore white supremacists. He is also suspected of being Jewish, which is not unusual, since many Nazis suspect other Nazis that they personally despise as being Jewish. 

Also: Don’t be surprised to find that a lot of Nazis prefer “dark meat.” It is more common than you think. In fact one of the main reasons why these guys are Nazis is because they can’t get a “nice,” “ladylike,” “virginal” and “loyal” white woman who will give them the sense of authority they feel they can’t get in mainstream society.

ªNearly 500 people have died in mudslides in Sierra Leone meanwhile and nobody in the US has shed a tear over their deaths except, naturally, immigrants from Sierra Leone.

Postcards from the Devil: Andrew Anglin–in Nigeria

The following is an account of Andrew Anglin’s improbable exile–in Lagos, Nigeria.

BY Andrew Anglin, himself.

Andrew Anglin is a rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth alt-right psychotic.

Living in Lagos, Nigeria.

Yeah. I know.

——–

NIGERIANS LOVE NEO-NAZI WHITE SUPREMACIST ANDREW ANGLIN

Andrew Anglin
Daily Stormer
July 14, 2017

CNN recently doxed me as living in Lagos, Nigeria.

Yes, this is a backward, somewhat savage place, but it is also one of the only countries on the planet where I can avoid being consistently harassed by law enforcement and antifa “street enforcers” because of my political views. There is no immigration enforcement in Africa, and I regularly cross borders without having my passport checked. If you need to avoid ZOG, it is actually not a terrible place.

While the Jews say that every racist is pure evil and just blindly hates skin colors for no reason, I in fact get along well with the Nigerians I live amongst here in Nigeria.

In fact, they love me.

The fact that the world’s number one racist hater feels safest in a totally black country where pansy antifa would pee their pants as soon as they got off the plane is something that should give even the densest liberal pause for thought.

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Where Andrew Anglin lives: “This is my neighborhood. The streets can be a bit exhausting.”

If a Nigerian asks me what I do, I tell them that I run a website promoting the interests of the White European race, and they do not need further explanation, as the concept of promoting one’s collective racial interests makes natural sense to them. They certainly aren’t offended by the idea, and when I explain to them that I live in their country because my own people will harass and attack me for defending them, they say, “Orisirisi, they don kolo,” meaning “That’s a mess. They’ve gone insane.”

They agree with my views that races are fundamentally different from one another.

They also find it funny when I refer to the country as “Niggeria” and them as “Niggerians.” They have various jokey terms for white folk (they call us oyinbo), and it’s all in good fun. If a white person is an idiot they will call them mugu.

In actual fact, Nigerians who leave on these boats to Italy are despised by the locals here in Nigeria. They are deeply ashamed at the horrible behavior of their kinsmen who go to Europe.

They are especially disgusted by black men who lust after white women, believing this practice to be unnatural and sick. They believe it can bring a curse on a man’s entire family for generations. However, they do believe that white women seduce their men, and I am not certain I can disagree with this. Some of the women working for NGOs here are absolutely perverted whores, and there is also a European female sex tourism industry (though Nigeria is not a top destination for this, it certainly is a cheaper option than many). The Nigerian men who service these women are called something that translates into something like “borrowed filthy disease-ridden street dog.”

Nigerian intellectuals (yes, that is a relative term, but it is a thing, sort of*) are typically of Yoruba tribal stock and regret the end of colonialism and the wretched state the nation fell into when the white man left.

 

None of these Nigerians are talking about how they used to be wuz kangz until whites stole their civilization.¹ That is 100% a belief of the kiked-out American Negroid. (Note: see pictures at bottom.)

The lower races naturally want to look up to us, to serve us, to learn from us.

This is the order of nature, and it is the default if you don’t have Jews.²

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Anglin: “The British only left in 1960, and older people remember them fondly. They liked learning from more evolved beings.” (See picture below)

*You’re wrong, you schmuck. A “relative-term” Nigerian, Wole Soyinka, won a Nobel Prize. Plus you forgot about Chinua Achebe and Teju Cole (a Nigerian-American), to name just two “relative-term” Nigerians who are “just a thing” in your head. I won’t say “mind” because it’s obvious that you don’t have one. 

And speaking of Nigerian “intellectuals”–the writer of this footnote, though African-American, is largely of Igbo (Nigerian) descent. Not Yoruba. So shove it, cracker.

¹Typical flabby pseudo-intellectualism from an alt-righter. Apparently he never read Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, and knows nothing about Nok, Igbo-Ukwu, Ile-Ife, Benin, etc. Now that some Nigerian house niggers are sucking his dick he’s gotten even more soft-headed than he ever was before. 

²Igbos are technically the Jews of Nigeria, dipshit. Mazel tov.

*

UPDATE: The REAL Reason Why Andrew Anglin is Now in Lagos!

Young Congoid Mee-Maw

Andy loves to swirl.

Shall We Kill Them Now, or Shall We Wait Till We Get Home to Masturbate?

“This is twenty people,” cried Emily Gorcenski, a transgender woman at a violent fascist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, on the night of August 11, 2017, “twenty people, standing against what is coming! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

The woman was outraged at the total lack of preparedness on the part of the so-called “left” on the night of August 11, 2017. The look of absolute terror on her face was undeniable. As usual, it did not register in the American imagination except as low comedy. “Antifa tranny has major meltdown after seeing how badly they are outnumbered,”  The Saint Negro, obviously a fascist douche-bag, gleefully exclaimed. OG Redneck Moab, another fascist douche (and a cunt, apparently), chortled in response to the woman’s terror, “I can’t stop laughing!!”

“When fascism came back, forty people stood against hundreds,” Ms. Gorcenski continued.

Personally I think things are even worse than what Ms. Gorcenski said at that heated moment. Fascism came back in a myriad of clever formats. It had to if it wanted to be popular. Physical culture, dressing sharp, glamour and a free-wheeling attitude to sexuality were a few important ways that the alt-right managed to capture the imagination of bored white youths looking for alibis to express their racist and xenophobic views. The Alpha Male, Red Pill, PUA movement of the 2000s very easily took sides with the far-right for one main reason: Left-wing prissiness. The New Western Left is prudish, effeminate, snobbish and solipsistic. They are self-righteous and whiny; they are hypocrites. They are also a bunch of rag-tag slobs, especially if they are white; if they are black they tend to be spaced-out Afropunks with massive dreadlocks and crooked, uncombed Afros, knee-grows and she-grows who cry buckets whenever some dumb honky asshole calls them “niggers.”

Identity Evropa, to cite just one example is a well-tailored, clean-cut, masculine-looking bunch that looks as if they stepped out of the late 1940s. They appear to exude strength and resilience, right down to their cold, reptilian, psychopathic stares. The women of the alt-right generally are not fat, whiny slobs but slim and glamorous “ladies” like Faith J. Goldy and Lauren Southern¹–both alleged “authors,” and definitely fascists–the one being rather sly and shifty about her political affiliations and the other simply blunt and to the point about her fascism. (Note: Miss Southern is the author of Barbarians: How Baby Boomers, Immigrants and Islam Screwed My Generation.)

Ryan Beitler, writing for Paste Magazine, says bluntly that “the alt-right is larger than you think, and violence is helping them grow.” Indeed. Beitler goes on to say that “(t)he people who associate with the alt-right aren’t just re-tweeting memes and pissing people off on the internet, they’re organizing to fight for their fascist future. Violence has not only emboldened them to take up similar means of political combat, it has strengthened their cause by making them sympathetic—and therefore appealing—to young people who slip down the slope of racist ideology.”

And sadly, the alt-right is successful largely do to its violence. The glamorous edgy and sexy aspects of the alt-right are merely the icing on their stale angel food cake. The alt-right understands a basic principle that the tree-hugging white left and the shea-butter BLM chicks don’t: that Violence, with a capital fucking “V,”  is the primarily catalyst for historical change.

Peaceful protests do not move history. It’s a cold, hard fact. They don’t. There has never been a single instance in which a peaceful protest, or some sort of gentleman’s agreement, has led to significant advancements in the overall livelihood of homo sapiens sapiens. The reason for this is actually very simple. Human beings have yet to evolve to the point where contentious issues can be resolved by sitting at a round table and working out our differences, or by patting each other on our collective backs and telling each other, “we can work this out.”

Jiddu Krishnamurti, who by all accounts was not in the least violent, once said that “(t)he whole world is caught up in violence, in wars; the very structure of our acquisitive society is essentially violent.” In other words, we are all essentially born and bred and shaped in a civilization whose very foundations are built upon violence. Everything about it, and about us, is violent. The way we talk, not to mention our very vocabulary, is saturated with violence. Our clothing, our handwriting, our sexuality, our way of walking, our way of eating, even the way we breathe is violent. Our antagonism towards one another runs so deep that we are not even capable of genuinely thinking our way out of it: “Surely, it is not a question of how one is not to be violent. The fact is that we are violent, and to ask ‘How am I not to be violent?’ merely creates the ideal, which seems to me to be utterly futile. But if one is capable of looking at violence and understanding it, then perhaps there is a possibility of resolving it totally.”²

If only. Yet if we here in this decaying West are capable of observing and understanding the violence which infests the lives of so many of us–particularly those of us who are not white, and still more precisely those of us who are black–we clearly see and understand who originated it, where it originated and precisely which institutions are perpetuating it, and which social strata have been infected with it. To answer the last question, everyone is infected–even the proponents of nonviolence. “When we obey out of fear,” writes Krishnamurti, “there is violence.”

Naturally.

Naturally these nonviolent protesters think they are taking Dr. King’s words to heart when they naively confront the alt-right. Naturally, they rarely, if ever, show up with bricks and clubs, let alone machine guns–unlike the alt-right, which simply doesn’t care what any of its members do to their racial and political opponents. The alt-right is not merely just another honky minstrel show; it’s a movement made up of psychotics and social deviants* who clearly mean every thing that they say when they talk about killing niggers, kikes, gooks, spics, mudslimes and faggots. The alt-right has proven time and again that they are as willing to kill as they are to die for their goofy, antediluvian beliefs in a “white homeland.” Even the alt-lite, represented by scum like Milo, Gavin MacInness and Ben Shapiro, really aren’t kidding around. Milo really is a fascist, and a violent one, to boot. Milo does not have to put his fucking hands on anyone–all he needs to do is open his trap and speak. Of course, he believes in the First Amendment and all that crap, much like the rear-guard hacks at Infowars and Fox News do–free speech for himself and his species, that is; the rest of us, in his eyes, simply don’t count.

Neither Black Lives Matter nor their allies can really understand this; they do not realize who and what they are up against, for if they did they would have armed themselves with handguns (at the very least) before setting out to confront the alt-right in Charlottesville. Black “radicals” remain completely clueless as to the aims of the alt-right. They still imagine they are taking on a bunch of disaffected, toothless rednecks. The alt-right wants a Final Solution, and Black radical “Afropunks” want some sort of Kumbaya moment with Jared Taylor, preferably over a cup of ginseng tea. Meanwhile fascist cops in American towns and cities continue to hunt “niggers” like they hunt squirrels; they’ve been doing it for decades, but now these Afropunkass “radicals” are “tired” of it all.

Unfortunately, they have picked the wrong moment in history to be “tired” in the face of fascism.

On August 12, 2017 the “radicals” were down in Charlottesville shouting profanities at the Nazis and chanting the usual “No Nazi scum” bollocks. I call it “bollocks” because to a hardcore Nazi these chants are merely amusing, like water off a goddamned duck’s back. They were lucky to have Antifa to back them up in the streets, for at least Antifa halfway gets the fucking point concerning the alt-right. Nazis don’t understand the concept of nonviolenceThat is why one protester wound up dead at the hands of the Nazis, and why the alt-right won yet again. (Yeah, they did. They won. Score one for the Nazis and score zero for the loopy Black Lives Mammies, who all had their panties in a bunch over who shot John.)

The writing is on the wall for the African-American and he refuses to read it. It is not hard to understand why the African American refuses to read it. It is not hard to understand why this darkie will not connect the dots, and see the obvious connection between the killer cops and the alt-right’s kicking his ass in the streets. As for the latter, the cops and the alt-right are essentially on the same team–it has been well-established that the far-right has been infiltrating American law enforcement for decades, and that many, many cops who are not officially on the far-right are still, nonetheless, brutally racist towards Blacks. (Including, naturally, black, brown and yellow cops.)

As for the former–well, let’s be blunt. This soft little Negro is always willing to forgive his tormentor in the end. The Nazi has been quick to take advantage of the fact that his primary opponent (the Negro) simply has no balls. This is yet another cold, hard fact that we must contend with. The American Negro is essentially castrated; he can only assert himself physically against another, weaker Negro or, at the very least, in the bedroom. Frantz Fanon was dead accurate in his assessment when he proclaimed that “the black man is not a man” and that he wishes he were “white.” Loaded down with an anachronistic colonial-era “double consciousness,” which most Africans throughout the world long ago rid themselves of, this whitened African American–educated or uneducated–wants an “honest and forthright dialogue” with violent white supremacists–a la Cornel West, the master of dialogue and prayer vigils in the face of a rising Fourth Reich.

But no dialogue is possible with Nazis because Nazis lie. Nazis may be human but their concept of what makes a human is entirely limited to what they define as human–and we, by their definitions, simply aren’t human beings. Period. Nazi ideology only makes sense if one is willing to accept the idea that human hierarchies are natural and God-given. Of course, the current set of racial, ethnic and class hierarchies that exist throughout the world are entirely man-made, and upon close inspection are generally the product of (and are upheld by) spiteful men.

People are not born to lord it over other people simply because they have a different skin color or hair texture or nose or eye shape, or because they pray in a different temple, or because they don’t go to bed with someone of their own fucking gender. Only children believe these things, and all racists are children, as James Baldwin once said. The fact that a bunch of white thugs are incapable of growing up and facing the responsibilities of living in civilized society is not our problem. Our problem is to protect ourselves against Nazis because they use any excuse to flex their perpetually tense muscles. They use any alibi to puke out onto us the insanity and confusion raging inside their skulls. There’s no question that they are psychotically violent. The only question now is why are we still treating Nazis with kid gloves. We know what Nazis are, let’s not fool ourselves. They are our enemies–period. After so many books, documentaries, films and other media have been issued detailing the inner workings of the Nazi mind; after Hitler, after Auschwitz, after King Leopold,  after Mussolini, after Apartheid, after Jim Crow, after Pinochet–we, who supposedly understand just how horrifically destructive the ideology of white supremacy is, want to pull rank just when the alt-right is pulling out its bombs.

“It goes without saying that (Antifa’s) frustration is valid and tangible,” writes Ryan Beitler for Paste, “but the problem is that violence never effectively puts a halt to a political movement. On the contrary, it emboldens that movement to use the same tactics and gain sympathy from new supporters.” So it goes. The left is damned if it does something, apparently, but it is equally damned if it does nothing. Nonviolent protests (as we have seen) inspire their scorn but violent resistance emboldens them and encourages the alt-right to adapt ever more brutal tactics to achieve their insane goals. So far, not one member of Antifa has killed a member of the alt-right. You may say that violence is not the answer, and parrot that old shopworn homily that “an eye for an eye leaves everyone blind.” But one has to understand that this is not 1961, nor are we dealing with British colonial authorities in 1933 India who, after all, made up a tiny minority in that nation and who did not have nuclear warheads at their disposal.

The fact is that we have every legitimate reason in the world to kill the alt-right.³ We don’t have to hate them to realize that we must kill them. We don’t even need to ask why we must kill them. If we don’t kill them, they will kill us. It sounds hopelessly romantic, even corny, but it’s true. From a very practical standpoint, you cannot be complacent anywhere on this earth when the alt-right goes mainstream in the world’s only superpower. You cannot be complacent when Nazis worm their way to the top of the world’s political food chain. The last time we dragged our feet in deciding what to do with Nazis we found ourselves in a World War. If we continue to drag our feet today these Nazis will very soon be in control of the world’s largest nuclear arsenal. Do we, as a species, as homo sapiens sapiens, really need to deal with that? Do we need to face our own extinction, simply because a handful of Nordic Neanderthals disingenuously insist upon their so-called “right to free speech”?

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Fascists in America routinely get away with violence because they know that they have a clear field of it. Urban “gangstas” are too busy killing each other. Mainstream “minority” leadership wants to stay out of such conflicts altogether. Only Antifa and New-Afrikan communists and anarchists are seriously going to challenge them, and the latter are few and far between; when they do show their faces everyone is outraged and no one is more horrified at the prospect of black terrorism than the rank-and-file Black American. When Gavin Long, a radical black blogger and ex-Marine shot three cops in Baton Rouge last July, the entire Western press frothed at the mouth (as they usually do in these instances). Mainstream Black America frothed along with mainstream White America. It had occurred to few people that Gavin Long, terrorist or no, had merely flipped the tables on a notoriously violent and corrupt police department, as had Micah Xavier Johnson in Houston; neither man was a Mau Mau, let alone an Algerian fellagha or even Huey Newton. (It is worth noting at this point that both Johnson and Long were by-products of the U.S. military machine, and both had spotless backgrounds. Neither was a stereotypical pot-smoking, gun-wielding, illiterate “thug.” Both served their country with honors.) The late Micah Johnson and the late Gavin Long were “monsters” because they had the temerity to commit “outrageous” acts against American law enforcement–“outrageous,” in Western minds, because neither Mr. Johnson nor Mr. Long were Green Mountain Boys or Sinn Fein patriots. To paraphrase James Baldwin, any black man who sees the world the way John Wayne sees it is simply “stark raving mad.” Of course, to be fair, the late white James Hodgkinson was also perceived as being rather “mad” for shooting House Majority Whip Steve Scalise; there was a bipartisan response in Congress condemning the attacks and well-wishing from all around to Representative Scalise–a homophobic bigot whose views chime very well with those of the alt-right.

To all of which I can only say–and to bring up Baldwin again–“people who treat other people as less than human must not be surprised when the bread they have cast on the waters comes floating back to them, poisoned.”

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¹Here we have two cracker Canucks–crackeresses, to be precise–one of whom (Miss Southern) dragged her dirty ass all the way from Canada to prevent an “invasion” of Sicily by a handful of displaced African migrants. The migrants were unarmed and apparently malnourished, but in Miss Southern’s mind they were oversexed, jihad-prone Saracens armed with hard-ons, cross-bows and scimitars. Miss Goldy-locks is a Greek Orthodox skank who sexed herself up just for the Charlottesville Massacre, and had a cameraman follow her about while she loudly complained that the fuzz wouldn’t let the fash march anymore, that her extreme-right views (and her fellow honky patriots) were being sidelined by Black Lives Matter “niggers” and Antifa “commie Jew fags.” (She didn’t use those slurs, but she was “on code” at that moment, so it didn’t matter what she said.) Her whole shtick at that moment was to flip the script on the lefties and coons about “inclusion” and “diversity,” but in a typical display of bald-faced hypocrisy, the bitch expressed “horror” and “shock” when fascist James Alex Fields, Jr., allegedly “out of fear,” ran over several protesters with a car. Goldy-locks stopped her Mata Hari shtick and began crying, “Holy shit! Holy shit!…People are badly hurt! We need medics, we need ambulances!” Actually, cunt, what we need is for people like you (and that Southern hoe) to drop dead so that shit like this doesn’t happen again.

²Jiddu Krishnamurti, The Book of Life

³Edward Snowden: “Every act of progression in our nation’s history has involved tension with law. Whether it was the abolition of slavery, whether it was the enfranchisement of women, whether it was the birth of our nation–laws were broken, and that’s because the laws were wrong.”

*In this regard, they are no different than Hitler’s Brown Shirts.

On Chancellor Williams’s “Destruction of Black Civilization”

The late Chancellor Williams was no slouch when it came to researching African history. As he himself states near the beginning of his book, “(R)esearching African history is more tedious, laborious, and time-consuming than is true in other unsuppressed fields.” He is certainly right about that. Until very recently it was next to impossible to obtain substantial documents and data dealing with the history of sub-Saharan Africa. When “The Destruction of Black Civilization” appeared in 1971 the fabled libraries of Timbuktu were, in the minds of even the most ardent African scholars, largely still a fable. Unfortunately, his decades of thoroughgoing research in Africa, Europe and elsewhere had not amounted to much, if we have just this book to go on. The details in this meager book, generally speaking, and particularly in regards to Egypt and Sudan reveal nothing that one would not just as easily gleamed from other texts. About Ghana, Mali and Songhay he says precious little–in fact, all the information Dr. Williams provides about these three West African states could fill an article in the New Yorker. (There is, to be fair, invaluable, substantial, and much-needed information on the little-known Kingdom of Kuba.) However, in these instances–and much in line with his accounts of Egypt, Meroe, Axum and other kingdoms–the details are all overladen with heavy-handed rhetorical generalizing about “The Blacks” and, most especially, their fateful encounters with Europeans and Asiatics.

The gist of Williams’s generalizations is that a bunch of bloodsucking, homicidal ofays and gooks wrecked the African continent. Which, as nasty as it sounds, is quite true. No doubt about that. The crushing of Songhai at the hands of the Moroccans on March 13, 1591 (mirroring an earlier crushing of Ghana at the hands of the Almoravid Berbers in 1076) is a prime example, as was the Hyksos invasion of Egypt thousands of years earlier. And of course, one need only look at the mad scramble for Africa that took place after the Berlin Conference of 1885 (and let’s not make mention of both slave trades–the European and the Arab–the latter of which lasted far longer and took many more lives). So on one level, Williams is right about Eurasian homicidal mania towards Africa. Where he is wrong–for the most part, that is–is in deducing the intent of Eurasian destruction of Africa, at least before the arrival of the Portuguese.

Williams says (not suggests) that Black Africa was originally one big continent full of Black people who–at one magical, mythical point in its prehistory–all spoke one language and belonged to one tribe: the magical, mythical Black African tribe, who all saw, felt, ate, drank, copulated, lived and died as Blacks. On the one hand, that’s not earth-shattering news: 20,000 years ago, virtually every homo sapien on the planet was more or less still “African” in appearance, if not in language. Williams, on the other hand, was eager to assert that all these mythical Black Africans had “Black Consciousness” in the face of a white enemy waiting with sharpened knives outside the gates of Sinai–and that typical Black moral failings (divisiveness, pettiness, selfishness, greed, self-hatred, disrespect for centralized authority, and naivete in dealing with non-Blacks) led to its destruction.

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Ashanti house in Ghana

Another false assertion that he pushes in his little book is that Eurasia’s ancient rape of Africa was really done solely out of racist envy and spite, rather than desperate plunder by barbarous groups of non-Africans (who may not have been nearly as “white” as he imagined them to be) with meager resources and even less patience for the civilized graces of more established nations. The same fate that befell Egypt and Carthage also befell Mycenae, Elam, Sumeria, Sassanid Persia, Mohenjo-Daro, Ancient China, Ancient Vietnam (at the hands of China), and even Rome itself.  There is also the question of the desire of imperial conquest, which naturally drove China to quash and colonize Vietnam for over 1,000 years beginning in 111 BC; or the destruction of medieval Cambodia at the hands of the Siamese c. 1431. Lest anyone think this is entirely race-motivated, one need only research the destruction of Constantinople at the hands of the Venetians in the latter part of the 13th century: both parties were white Europeans, yet clearly despised each other for reasons that had nothing to do with skin color.

The same held true in Africa, whether North or South, east or west. It sounds cliched, but building an empire is much like making an omelette: one has to break some eggs in the process. Medieval Mali and Songhai, respectively, were about the size of the entire European continent. Yet neither empire was built by the consent of the peoples it subjugated–and no group of people, anywhere in the world, has ever really cottoned to the idea of being subjugated to another, whether in the form of vassalage (as was the case with much of Mali’s empire) or outright conquest (also true of Mali as well as Songhay, which were largely built on the ruins of Ghana and Susu). Indeed the very creation of Mali came about as a result of a crippled Mandinka, Sundiata Keita, who not only felt humiliated to be subject to the Sosso (an upstart kingdom which had encroached upon Mandinka land in its expansionist moves across West Africa)–but who, according to the national epic of Mali, was prophesied to be a great leader by the oppressed Mandinka. Mali’s national epic is essentially the story of a liberation struggle against an imperialist nation that was neither European nor Arab, and in human history prior to 1400 this is no anomaly.

The best I can say about “Destruction” is that it is superbly written. It would have made an excellent historical novel. As for straightforward history, the book is marred by false and romantic assumptions about African history. My point is not to argue whether or not the Ancient Egyptians were Africans, since most of the evidence gathered about them strongly suggests that they were of sub-Saharan origin. (Actually most of the period portraiture, mummies and DNA evidence speaks for itself.) My point is that in no period of pre-colonial African history did Africans have the kind of “black consciousness” that Dr. Williams so vehemently espouses, and with which he so vehemently lambastes Africans for lacking. “Black consciousness” (notwithstanding the revealing name KEMET) was almost entirely a product of an anti-colonial and anti-slavery sentiment that began long after the fall of Songhai in 1591.

Aside from the chapter dealing with the Bushongo of Central Africa, there is very little nuance anywhere to be found in The Destruction of African Civilization. This book, had it purported to deal with the myriad factors and fine details as to what caused the collapse of African civilization–should have been at least four times as long as it is. Of course, even today, it is extremely difficult to write cogently about sub-Saharan African history without filling in the gaps with conjecture and outright solipsism, so maybe one should at least give some credit to Dr. Williams in opening up a discussion on a subject which had been previously ignored. But that is not enough, for there is a more troubling issue at stake here.

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Pharaoh Menkaure, 4th Dynasty (Egypt)

Williams was naive enough to assume that pre-colonial Africans were actually infected with the profound self-loathing and depersonalization–what Dr. Du Bois rather politely called “double consciousness”–that Africans suffer today. He was even more naive in assuming that all black people everywhere were essentially the same in nature and outlook. Indeed, the last thing that Africans anywhere in the world need is yet another piece of work that reduces them down to a common denominator, however positive that denominator may appear to be. This alone should be enough for a half-way intelligent person to put the book down. What Dr. Williams says concerning Africa’s downfall could just as well apply to the Chinese downfall, the Arab downfall, the Roman downfall, the Byzantine downfall, the various downfalls of India, South East Asia, and naturally the total annihilation of Pre-Columbian America. Dr. Williams projects the anxieties of a mid-twentieth century Black American pan-Africanist back into Africa’s pre-colonial past, and as a result, THE DESTRUCTION OF BLACK CIVILIZATION should be taken with a cup of salt.

‘Flappers, wine, cocaine & revels’: Melbourne, 1928

The Sonny Clay incident in Australia in 1928 should be ample proof to anyone who thinks that blacks did not face extreme racism in their global travels back in the old days.

My great-grandfather, Philip Thomas Smith, faced far lesser prejudice in Paris in 1918. The French girls merely felt his behind and wondered what had happened to his tail.

The Vapour Trail

Recently, the editor of extempore, an Australian journal devoted to writing about jazz and improvised music, asked me to write a short piece about Sonny Clay’s ill-fated Australian tour in 1928.

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(Members of Sonny Clay’s Coloured Idea (including the singer Ivie Anderson) on deck as they pull into Sydney, 1928)

Sonny Clay’s Plantation Orchestra, toegther with other singers and dancers, formed a vaudeville combination called the Coloured Idea which hit the Tivoli circuit in early 1928. As I wrote in a previous post, Clay’s ‘orchestra’ was the first all-African American jazz band to disembark on Australian shores, joined by the ebullient songstress, Ivie Anderson. They stayed a couple of months and were deported at the end of it, amid surveillance from tabloid reporters, police and the then-equivalent of ASIO.

In order to write my piece on Clay, I spend time in the State Library of Victoria when I was in Melbourne last week…

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Red Hot Cannonballs and Bloody Knives: Why Fanon Still Matters

Since when did Fanon not matter?

GODS & RADICALS

From Jesse Brent


This past March, I attended a speech at the NYU Law School by Kathleen Cleaver, the law professor and former Communications Secretary of the Black Panther Party. After a dialogue with two young activists, whom Cleaver cautioned against the effects of non-profits on political movements, Cleaver responded to questions from the audience. One student asked Cleaver which books had influenced her the most politically. She responded by saying that the official Black Panther Party Book List is available online, but the most important title for herself was The Wretched of the Earth by Frantz Fanon. Another student asked if Lenin was an important influence for her. She responded with a simple “no.”

Frantz Fanon was a psychiatrist and revolutionary philosopher from Martinique, who lived in Algeria during the country’s anti-colonial war against the French. Fanon joined the revolutionary movement and contributed to El Moudjahid and Résistance Algérienne

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The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro, by Frederick Douglass

The following post is being made on the 155th anniversary of the deliverance of Frederick Douglass’s speech, “The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro.” The full speech (and not just the well-known excerpt erroneously entitled “What to the Slave is the 4th of July?”) is shown below. I did not post anything on the 4th of July–not out of spite, but because my mind was elsewhere. I haven’t even thought of, much less celebrated, this rather pointless holiday for many years. When I was a kid, July 4th was a time to go out and see the fireworks with family.  Today it’s just another day for an expat writer, watching his country fall apart from the vantage point of a neoliberal halfway house that somehow imagines itself to be “tolerant” and “multicultural.” 

Even the most casual reading of Douglass’s text will show one that very, very little has changed–in its essence–in the United States since 1852. We KNOW that slavery is gone, that there are no longer any “Indian Wars” where Native Americans are systematically stripped of their land (among other things), and that brutal 19th century-style colonial wars no longer take place–ON THE SURFACE. Scratch the surface and one can’t ignore the dozens of U.S. companies that utilize prison labor to manufacture their goods, as well as countless “illegals” who don’t get paid for cleaning out American toilets; we can’t ignore what happened and continues to happen Standing Rock, nor can one ignore Allen, South Dakota, on the Pine Ridge Reservation, where the average yearly income is a mere $1,539. And this is not to make mention of American law enforcement, whose crimes would not only disgrace savages but, if they saw them being committed live, would actually make them vomit!!

Anyhow, I’m too short on cash and time right now to be bothered even with writing something about the 4th of July. I have a new insurance plan under KSK (Kuenstlersozialkasse) and they keep climbing down my throat for money that I don’t really have.  

*

This speech was given July 5, 1852 in Rochester, New York. The speech below is shown in its entirety.

Mr. President, Friends and Fellow Citizens:

He who could address this audience without a quailing sensation, has stronger nerves than I have. I do not remember ever to have appeared as a speaker before any assembly more shrinkingly, nor with greater distrust of my ability, than I do this day. A feeling has crept over me quite unfavorable to the exercise of my limited powers of speech. The task before me is one which requires much previous thought and study for its proper performance. I know that apologies of this sort are generally considered flat and unmeaning. I trust, however, that mine will not be so considered. Should I seem at ease, my appearance would much misrepresent me. The little experience I have had in addressing public meetings, in country school houses, avails me nothing on the present occasion.

The papers and placards say that I am to deliver a Fourth of July Oration. This certainly sounds large, and out of the common way, for me. It is true that I have often had the privilege to speak in this beautiful Hall, and to address many who now honor me with their presence. But neither their familiar faces, nor the perfect gage I think I have of Corinthian Hall seems to free me from embarrassment.

The fact is, ladies and gentlemen, the distance between this platform and the slave plantation, from which I escaped, is considerable-and the difficulties to he overcome in getting from the latter to the former are by no means slight. That I am here to-day is, to me, a matter of astonishment as well as of gratitude. You will not, therefore, be surprised, if in what I have to say I evince no elaborate preparation, nor grace my speech with any high sounding exordium. With little experience and with less learning, I have been able to throw my thoughts hastily and imperfectly together; and trusting to your patient and generous indulgence I will proceed to lay them before you.

This, for the purpose of this celebration, is the Fourth of July. It is the birth day of your National Independence, and of your political freedom. This, to you, as what the Passover was to the emancipated people of God. It carries your minds back to the day, and to the act of your great deliverance; and to the signs, and to the wonders, associated with that act, and that day. This celebration also marks the beginning of another year of your national life; and reminds you that the Republic of America is now 76 years old. l am glad, fellow-citizens, that your nation is so young. Seventy-six years, though a good old age for a man, is but a mere speck in the life of a nation. Three score years and ten is the allotted time for individual men; but nations number their years by thousands. According to this fact, you are, even now, only in the beginning of your national career, still lingering in the period of childhood. I repeat, I am glad this is so. There is hope in the thought, and hope is much needed, under the dark clouds which lower above the horizon. The eye of the reformer is met with angry flashes, portending disastrous times; but his heart may well beat lighter at the thought that America is young, and that she is still in the impressible stage of her existence. May he not hope that high lessons of wisdom, of justice and of truth, will yet give direction to her destiny? Were the nation older, the patriot’s heart might be sadder, and the reformer’s brow heavier. Its future might be shrouded in gloom, and the hope of its prophets go out in sorrow. There is consolation in the thought that America is young.-Great streams are not easily turned from channels, worn deep in the course of ages. They may sometimes rise in quiet and stately majesty, and inundate the land, refreshing and fertilizing the earth with their mysterious properties. They may also rise in wrath and fury, and bear away, on their angry waves, the accumulated wealth of years of toil and hardship. They, however, gradually flow back to the same old channel, and flow on as serenely as ever. But, while the river may not be turned aside, it may dry up, and leave nothing behind but the withered branch, and the unsightly rock, to howl in the abyss-sweeping wind, the sad tale of departed glory. As with rivers so with nations.

Fellow-citizens, I shall not presume to dwell at length on the associations that cluster about this day. The simple story of it is, that, 76 years ago, the people of this country were British subjects. The style and title of your “sovereign people” (in which you now glory) was not then born. You were under the British Crown. Your fathers esteemed the English Government as the home government; and England as the fatherland. This home government, you know, although a considerable distance from your home, did, in the exercise of its parental prerogatives, impose upon its colonial children, such restraints, burdens and limitations, as, in its mature judgment, it deemed wise, right and proper.

But your fathers, who had not adopted the fashionable idea of this day, of the infallibility of government, and the absolute character of its acts, presumed to differ from the home government in respect to the wisdom and the justice of some of those burdens and restraints. They went so far in their excitement as to pronounce the measures of government unjust, unreasonable, and oppressive, and altogether such as ought not to be quietly submitted to. I scarcely need say, fellow-citizens, that my opinion of those measures fully accords with that of your fathers. Such a declaration of agreement on my part would not be worth much to anybody. It would certainly prove nothing as to what part I might have taken had I lived during the great controversy of 1776. To say now that America was right, and England wrong, is exceedingly easy. Everybody can say it; the dastard, not less than the noble brave, can flippantly discant on the tyranny of England towards the American Colonies. It is fashionable to do so; but there was a time when, to pronounce against England, and in favor of the cause of the colonies, tried men’s souls. They who did so were accounted in their day plotters of mischief, agitators and rebels, dangerous men. To side with the right against the wrong, with the weak against the strong, and with the oppressed against the oppressor! here lies the merit, and the one which, of all others, seems unfashionable in our day. The cause of liberty may be stabbed by the men who glory in the deeds of your fathers. But, to proceed.

Feeling themselves harshly and unjustly treated, by the home government, your fathers, like men of honesty, and men of spirit, earnestly sought redress. They petitioned and remonstrated; they did so in a decorous, respectful, and loyal manner. Their conduct was wholly unexceptionable. This, however, did not answer the purpose. They saw themselves treated with sovereign indifference, coldness and scorn. Yet they persevered. They were not the men to look back.

As the sheet anchor takes a firmer hold, when the ship is tossed by the storm, so did the cause of your fathers grow stronger as it breasted the chilling blasts of kingly displeasure. The greatest and best of British statesmen admitted its justice, and the loftiest eloquence of the British Senate came to its support. But, with that blindness which seems to be the unvarying characteristic of tyrants, since Pharaoh and his hosts were drowned in the Red Sea, the British Government persisted in the exactions complained of.

The madness of this course, we believe, is admitted now, even by England; but we fear the lesson is wholly lost on our present rulers.

Oppression makes a wise man mad. Your fathers were wise men, and if they did not go mad, they became restive under this treatment. They felt themselves the victims of grievous wrongs, wholly incurable in their colonial capacity. With brave men there is always a remedy for oppression. Just here, the idea of a total separation of the colonies from the crown was born! It was a startling idea, much more so than we, at this distance of time, regard it. The timid and the prudent (as has been intimated) of that day were, of course, shocked and alarmed by it.

Such people lived then, had lived before, and will, probably, ever have a place on this planet; and their course, in respect to any great change (no matter how great the good to be attained, or the wrong to be redressed by it), may be calculated with as much precision as can be the course of the stars. They hate all changes, but silver, gold and copper change! Of this sort of change they are always strongly in favor.

These people were called Tories in the days of your fathers; and the appellation, probably, conveyed the same idea that is meant by a more modern, though a somewhat less euphonious term, which we often find in our papers, applied to some of our old politicians.

Their opposition to the then dangerous thought was earnest and powerful; but, amid all their terror and affrighted vociferations against it, the alarming and revolutionary idea moved on, and the country with it.

On the 2nd of July, 1776, the old Continental Congress, to the dismay of the lovers of ease, and the worshipers of property, clothed that dreadful idea with all the authority of national sanction. They did so in the form of a resolution; and as we seldom hit upon resolutions, drawn up in our day, whose transparency is at all equal to this, it may refresh your minds and help my story if I read it.

“Resolved, That these united colonies are, and of right, ought to be free and Independent States; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown; and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, dissolved.”

Citizens, your fathers made good that resolution. They succeeded; and to-day you reap the fruits of their success. The freedom gained is yours; and you, there fore, may properly celebrate this anniversary. The 4th of July is the first great fact in your nation’s history-the very ringbolt in the chain of your yet undeveloped destiny.

Pride and patriotism, not less than gratitude, prompt you to celebrate and to hold it in perpetual remembrance. I have said that the Declaration of Independence is the ringbolt to the chain of your nation’s destiny; so, indeed, I regard it. The principles contained in that instrument are saving principles. Stand by those principles, be true to them on all occasions, in all places, against all foes, and at whatever cost.

From the round top of your ship of state, dark and threatening clouds may be seen. Heavy billows, like mountains in the distance, disclose to the leeward huge forms of flinty rocks! That bolt drawn, that chain broken, and all is lost. Cling to this day-cling to it, and to its principles, with the grasp of a storm-tossed mariner to a spar at midnight.

The coming into being of a nation, in any circumstances, is an interesting event. But, besides general considerations, there were peculiar circumstances which make the advent of this republic an event of special attractiveness. The whole scene, as I look back to it, was simple, dignified and sublime. The population of the country, at the time, stood at the insignificant number of three millions. The country was poor in the munitions of war. The population was weak and scattered, and the country a wilderness unsubdued. There were then no means of concert and combination, such as exist now. Neither steam nor lightning had then been reduced to order and discipline. From the Potomac to the Delaware was a journey of many days. Under these, and innumerable other disadvantages, your fathers declared for liberty and independence and triumphed.

Fellow Citizens, I am not wanting in respect for the fathers of this republic. The signers of the Declaration of Independence were brave men. They were great men, too-great enough to give frame to a great age. It does not often happen to a nation to raise, at one time, such a number of truly great men. The point from which I am compelled to view them is not, certainly, the most favorable; and yet I cannot contemplate their great deeds with less than admiration. They were statesmen, patriots and heroes, and for the good they did, and the principles they contended for, I will unite with you to honor their memory.

They loved their country better than their own private interests; and, though this is not the highest form of human excellence, all will concede that it is a rare virtue, and that when it is exhibited it ought to command respect. He who will, intelligently, lay down his life for his country is a man whom it is not in human nature to despise. Your fathers staked their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor, on the cause of their country. In their admiration of liberty, they lost sight of all other interests.

They were peace men; but they preferred revolution to peaceful submission to bondage. They were quiet men; but they did not shrink from agitating against oppression. They showed forbearance; but that they knew its limits. They believed in order; but not in the order of tyranny. With them, nothing was “settIed” that was not right. With them, justice, liberty and humanity were “final”; not slavery and oppression. You may well cherish the memory of such men. They were great in their day and generation. Their solid manhood stands out the more as we contrast it with these degenerate times.

How circumspect, exact and proportionate were all their movements! How unlike the politicians of an hour! Their statesmanship looked beyond the passing moment, and stretched away in strength into the distant future. They seized upon eternal principles, and set a glorious example in their defence. Mark them! Fully appreciating the hardships to be encountered, firmly believing in the right of their cause, honorably inviting the scrutiny of an on-looking world, reverently appealing to heaven to attest their sincerity, soundly comprehending the solemn responsibility they were about to assume, wisely measuring the terrible odds against them, your fathers, the fathers of this republic, did, most deliberately, under the inspiration of a glorious patriotism, and with a sublime faith in the great principles of justice and freedom, lay deep, the corner-stone of the national super-structure, which has risen and still rises in grandeur around you.

Of this fundamental work, this day is the anniversary. Our eyes are met with demonstrations of joyous enthusiasm. Banners and pennants wave exultingly on the breeze. The din of business, too, is hushed. Even mammon seems to have quitted his grasp on this day. The ear-piercing fife and the stirring drum unite their accents with the ascending peal of a thousand church bells. Prayers are made, hymns are sung, and sermons are preached in honor of this day; while the quick martial tramp of a great and multitudinous nation, echoed back by all the hills, valleys and mountains of a vast continent, bespeak the occasion one of thrilling and universal interest-nation’s jubilee.

Friends and citizens, I need not enter further into the causes which led to this anniversary. Many of you understand them better than I do. You could instruct me in regard to them. That is a branch of knowledge in which you feel, perhaps, a much deeper interest than your speaker. The causes which led to the separation of the colonies from the British crown have never lacked for a tongue. They have all been taught in your common schools, narrated at your firesides, un folded from your pulpits, and thundered from your legislative halls, and are as familiar to you as household words. They form the staple of your national po etry and eloquence.

I remember, also, that, as a people, Americans are remarkably familiar with all facts which make in their own favor. This is esteemed by some as a national trait-perhaps a national weakness. It is a fact, that whatever makes for the wealth or for the reputation of Americans and can be had cheap! will be found by Americans. I shall not be charged with slandering Americans if I say I think the American side of any question may be safely left in American hands.

I leave, therefore, the great deeds of your fathers to other gentlemen whose claim to have been regularly descended will be less likely to be disputed than mine!

My business, if I have any here to-day, is with the present. The accepted time with God and His cause is the ever-living now.

Trust no future, however pleasant,
Let the dead past bury its dead;
Act, act in the living present,
Heart within, and God overhead.

We have to do with the past only as we can make it useful to the present and to the future. To all inspiring motives, to noble deeds which can be gained from the past, we are welcome. But now is the time, the important time. Your fathers have lived, died, and have done their work, and have done much of it well. You live and must die, and you must do your work. You have no right to enjoy a child’s share in the labor of your fathers, unless your children are to be blest by your labors. You have no right to wear out and waste the hard-earned fame of your fathers to cover your indolence. Sydney Smith tells us that men seldom eulogize the wisdom and virtues of their fathers, but to excuse some folly or wickedness of their own. This truth is not a doubtful one. There are illustrations of it near and remote, ancient and modern. It was fashionable, hundreds of years ago, for the children of Jacob to boast, we have “Abraham to our father,” when they had long lost Abraham’s faith and spirit. That people contented themselves under the shadow of Abraham’s great name, while they repudiated the deeds which made his name great. Need I remind you that a similar thing is being done all over this country to-day? Need I tell you that the Jews are not the only people who built the tombs of the prophets, and garnished the sepulchers of the righteous? Washington could not die till he had broken the chains of his slaves. Yet his monument is built up by the price of human blood, and the traders in the bodies and souls of men shout-“We have Washington to our father.”-Alas! that it should be so; yet it is.

The evil, that men do, lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones.

Fellow-citizens, pardon me, allow me to ask, why am I called upon to speak here to-day? What have I, or those I represent, to do with your national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence, extended to us? and am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble offering to the national altar, and to confess the benefits and express devout gratitude for the blessings resulting from your independence to us?

Would to God, both for your sakes and ours, that an affirmative answer could be truthfully returned to these questions! Then would my task be light, and my burden easy and delightful. For who is there so cold, that a nation’s sympathy could not warm him? Who so obdurate and dead to the claims of gratitude, that would not thankfully acknowledge such priceless benefits? Who so stolid and selfish, that would not give his voice to swell the hallelujahs of a nation’s jubilee, when the chains of servitude had been torn from his limbs? I am not that man. In a case like that, the dumb might eloquently speak, and the “lame man leap as an hart.”

But such is not the state of the case. I say it with a sad sense of the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of this glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common.-The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fa thers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought light and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony. Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day? If so, there is a parallel to your conduct. And let me warn you that it is dangerous to copy the example of a nation whose crimes, towering up to heaven, were thrown down by the breath of the Almighty, burying that nation in irrevocable ruin! I can to-day take up the plaintive lament of a peeled and woe-smitten people!

“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yea! we wept when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there, they that carried us away captive, required of us a song; and they who wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.”

Fellow-citizens, above your national, tumultuous joy, I hear the mournful wail of millions! whose chains, heavy and grievous yesterday, are, to-day, rendered more intolerable by the jubilee shouts that reach them. If I do forget, if I do not faithfully remember those bleeding children of sorrow this day, “may my right hand forget her cunning, and may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth!” To forget them, to pass lightly over their wrongs, and to chime in with the popular theme, would be treason most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a reproach before God and the world. My subject, then, fellow-citizens, is American slavery. I shall see this day and its popular characteristics from the slave’s point of view. Standing there identified with the American bondman, making his wrongs mine, I do not hesitate to declare, with all my soul, that the character and conduct of this nation never looked blacker to me than on this 4th of July! Whether we turn to the declarations of the past, or to the professions of the present, the conduct of the nation seems equally hideous and revolting. America is false to the past, false to the present, and solemnly binds herself to be false to the future. Standing with God and the crushed and bleeding slave on this occasion, I will, in the name of humanity which is outraged, in the name of liberty which is fettered, in the name of the constitution and the Bible which are disregarded and trampled upon, dare to call in question and to denounce, with all the emphasis I can command, everything that serves to perpetuate slavery-the great sin and shame of America! “I will not equivocate; I will not excuse”; I will use the severest language I can command; and yet not one word shall escape me that any man, whose judgment is not blinded by prejudice, or who is not at heart a slaveholder, shall not confess to be right and just.

But I fancy I hear some one of my audience say, “It is just in this circumstance that you and your brother abolitionists fail to make a favorable impression on the public mind. Would you argue more, and denounce less; would you persuade more, and rebuke less; your cause would be much more likely to succeed.” But, I submit, where all is plain there is nothing to be argued. What point in the anti slavery creed would you have me argue? On what branch of the subject do the people of this country need light? Must I undertake to prove that the slave is a man? That point is conceded already. Nobody doubts it. The slaveholders themselves acknowledge it in the enactment of laws for their government. They ac knowledge it when they punish disobedience on the part of the slave. There are seventy-two crimes in the State of Virginia which, if committed by a black man (no matter how ignorant he be), subject him to the punishment of death; while only two of the same crimes will subject a white man to the like punishment. What is this but the acknowledgment that the slave is a moral, intellectual, and responsible being? The manhood of the slave is conceded. It is admitted in the fact that Southern statute books are covered with enactments forbidding, under severe fines and penalties, the teaching of the slave to read or to write. When you can point to any such laws in reference to the beasts of the field, then I may con sent to argue the manhood of the slave. When the dogs in your streets, when the fowls of the air, when the cattle on your hills, when the fish of the sea, and the reptiles that crawl, shall be unable to distinguish the slave from a brute, then will I argue with you that the slave is a man!

For the present, it is enough to affirm the equal manhood of the Negro race. Is it not astonishing that, while we are ploughing, planting, and reaping, using all kinds of mechanical tools, erecting houses, constructing bridges, building ships, working in metals of brass, iron, copper, silver and gold; that, while we are reading, writing and ciphering, acting as clerks, merchants and secretaries, having among us lawyers, doctors, ministers, poets, authors, editors, orators and teachers; that, while we are engaged in all manner of enterprises common to other men, digging gold in California, capturing the whale in the Pacific, feeding sheep and cattle on the hill-side, living, moving, acting, thinking, planning, living in families as husbands, wives and children, and, above all, confessing and worshipping the Christian’s God, and looking hopefully for life and immortality beyond the grave, we are called upon to prove that we are men!

Would you have me argue that man is entitled to liberty? that he is the rightful owner of his own body? You have already declared it. Must I argue the wrongfulness of slavery? Is that a question for Republicans? Is it to be settled by the rules of logic and argumentation, as a matter beset with great difficulty, involving a doubtful application of the principle of justice, hard to be understood? How should I look to-day, in the presence of Americans, dividing, and subdividing a discourse, to show that men have a natural right to freedom? speaking of it relatively and positively, negatively and affirmatively. To do so, would be to make myself ridiculous, and to offer an insult to your understanding.-There is not a man beneath the canopy of heaven that does not know that slavery is wrong for him.

What, am I to argue that it is wrong to make men brutes, to rob them of their liberty, to work them without wages, to keep them ignorant of their relations to their fellow men, to beat them with sticks, to flay their flesh with the lash, to load their limbs with irons, to hunt them with dogs, to sell them at auction, to sunder their families, to knock out their teeth, to burn their flesh, to starve them into obedience and submission to their masters? Must I argue that a system thus marked with blood, and stained with pollution, is wrong? No! I will not. I have better employment for my time and strength than such arguments would imply.

What, then, remains to be argued? Is it that slavery is not divine; that God did not establish it; that our doctors of divinity are mistaken? There is blasphemy in the thought. That which is inhuman, cannot be divine! Who can reason on such a proposition? They that can, may; I cannot. The time for such argument is passed.

At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed. O! had I the ability, and could reach the nation’s ear, I would, to-day, pour out a fiery stream of biting ridicule, blasting reproach, withering sarcasm, and stern rebuke. For it is not light that is needed, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake. The feeling of the nation must be quickened; the conscience of the nation must be roused; the propriety of the nation must be startled; the hypocrisy of the nation must be exposed; and its crimes against God and man must be proclaimed and denounced.

What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy-a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour.

Go where you may, search where you will, roam through all the monarchies and despotisms of the Old World, travel through South America, search out every abuse, and when you have found the last, lay your facts by the side of the everyday practices of this nation, and you will say with me, that, for revolting barbarity and shameless hypocrisy, America reigns without a rival.

Take the American slave-trade, which we are told by the papers, is especially prosperous just now. Ex-Senator Benton tells us that the price of men was never higher than now. He mentions the fact to show that slavery is in no danger. This trade is one of the peculiarities of American institutions. It is carried on in all the large towns and cities in one-half of this confederacy; and millions are pocketed every year by dealers in this horrid traffic. In several states this trade is a chief source of wealth. It is called (in contradistinction to the foreign slave-trade) “the internal slave-trade.” It is, probably, called so, too, in order to divert from it the horror with which the foreign slave-trade is contemplated. That trade has long since been denounced by this government as piracy. It has been denounced with burning words from the high places of the nation as an execrable traffic. To arrest it, to put an end to it, this nation keeps a squadron, at immense cost, on the coast of Africa. Everywhere, in this country, it is safe to speak of this foreign slave-trade as a most inhuman traffic, opposed alike to the Jaws of God and of man. The duty to extirpate and destroy it, is admitted even by our doctors of divinity. In order to put an end to it, some of these last have consented that their colored brethren (nominally free) should leave this country, and establish them selves on the western coast of Africa! It is, however, a notable fact that, while so much execration is poured out by Americans upon all those engaged in the foreign slave-trade, the men engaged in the slave-trade between the states pass with out condemnation, and their business is deemed honorable.

Behold the practical operation of this internal slave-trade, the American slave-trade, sustained by American politics and American religion. Here you will see men and women reared like swine for the market. You know what is a swine-drover? I will show you a man-drover. They inhabit all our Southern States. They perambulate the country, and crowd the highways of the nation, with droves of human stock. You will see one of these human flesh jobbers, armed with pistol, whip, and bowie-knife, driving a company of a hundred men, women, and children, from the Potomac to the slave market at New Orleans. These wretched people are to be sold singly, or in lots, to suit purchasers. They are food for the cotton-field and the deadly sugar-mill. Mark the sad procession, as it moves wearily along, and the inhuman wretch who drives them. Hear his savage yells and his blood-curdling oaths, as he hurries on his affrighted captives! There, see the old man with locks thinned and gray. Cast one glance, if you please, upon that young mother, whose shoulders are bare to the scorching sun, her briny tears falling on the brow of the babe in her arms. See, too, that girl of thirteen, weeping, yes! weeping, as she thinks of the mother from whom she has been torn! The drove moves tardily. Heat and sorrow have nearly consumed their strength; suddenly you hear a quick snap, like the discharge of a rifle; the fetters clank, and the chain rattles simultaneously; your ears are saluted with a scream, that seems to have torn its way to the centre of your soul The crack you heard was the sound of the slave-whip; the scream you heard was from the woman you saw with the babe. Her speed had faltered under the weight of her child and her chains! that gash on her shoulder tells her to move on. Follow this drove to New Orleans. Attend the auction; see men examined like horses; see the forms of women rudely and brutally exposed to the shock ing gaze of American slave-buyers. See this drove sold and separated forever; and never forget the deep, sad sobs that arose from that scattered multitude. Tell me, citizens, where, under the sun, you can witness a spectacle more fiendish and shocking. Yet this is but a glance at the American slave-trade, as it exists, at this moment, in the ruling part of the United States.

I was born amid such sights and scenes. To me the American slave-trade is a terrible reality. When a child, my soul was often pierced with a sense of its horrors. I lived on Philpot Street, Fell’s Point, Baltimore, and have watched from the wharves the slave ships in the Basin, anchored from the shore, with their cargoes of human flesh, waiting for favorable winds to waft them down the Chesapeake. There was, at that time, a grand slave mart kept at the head of Pratt Street, by Austin Woldfolk. His agents were sent into every town and county in Maryland, announcing their arrival, through the papers, and on flaming “hand-bills,” headed cash for Negroes. These men were generally well dressed men, and very captivating in their manners; ever ready to drink, to treat, and to gamble. The fate of many a slave has depended upon the turn of a single card; and many a child has been snatched from the arms of its mother by bargains arranged in a state of brutal drunkenness.

The flesh-mongers gather up their victims by dozens, and drive them, chained, to the general depot at Baltimore. When a sufficient number has been collected here, a ship is chartered for the purpose of conveying the forlorn crew to Mobile, or to New Orleans. From the slave prison to the ship, they are usually driven in the darkness of night; for since the antislavery agitation, a certain caution is observed.

In the deep, still darkness of midnight, I have been often aroused by the dead, heavy footsteps, and the piteous cries of the chained gangs that passed our door. The anguish of my boyish heart was intense; and I was often consoled, when speaking to my mistress in the morning, to hear her say that the custom was very wicked; that she hated to hear the rattle of the chains and the heart-rending cries. I was glad to find one who sympathized with me in my horror.

Fellow-citizens, this murderous traffic is, to-day, in active operation in this boasted republic. In the solitude of my spirit I see clouds of dust raised on the highways of the South; I see the bleeding footsteps; I hear the doleful wail of fettered humanity on the way to the slave-markets, where the victims are to be sold like horses, sheep, and swine, knocked off to the highest bidder. There I see the tenderest ties ruthlessly broken, to gratify the lust, caprice and rapacity of the buyers and sellers of men. My soul sickens at the sight.

Is this the land your Fathers loved,
The freedom which they toiled to win?
Is this the earth whereon they moved?
Are these the graves they slumber in?

But a still more inhuman, disgraceful, and scandalous state of things remains to be presented. By an act of the American Congress, not yet two years old, slavery has been nationalized in its most horrible and revolting form. By that act, Mason and Dixon’s line has been obliterated; New York has become as Virginia; and the power to hold, hunt, and sell men, women and children, as slaves, remains no longer a mere state institution, but is now an institution of the whole United States. The power is co-extensive with the star-spangled banner, and American Christianity. Where these go, may also go the merciless slave-hunter. Where these are, man is not sacred. He is a bird for the sportsman’s gun. By that most foul and fiendish of all human decrees, the liberty and person of every man are put in peril. Your broad republican domain is hunting ground for men. Not for thieves and robbers, enemies of society, merely, but for men guilty of no crime. Your law-makers have commanded all good citizens to engage in this hellish sport. Your President, your Secretary of State, your lords, nobles, and ecclesiastics enforce, as a duty you owe to your free and glorious country, and to your God, that you do this accursed thing. Not fewer than forty Americans have, within the past two years, been hunted down and, without a moment’s warning, hurried away in chains, and consigned to slavery and excruciating torture. Some of these have had wives and children, dependent on them for bread; but of this, no account was made. The right of the hunter to his prey stands superior to the right of marriage, and to all rights in this republic, the rights of God included! For black men there is neither law nor justice, humanity nor religion. The Fugitive Slave Law makes mercy to them a crime; and bribes the judge who tries them. An American judge gets ten dollars for every victim he consigns to slavery, and five, when he fails to do so. The oath of any two villains is sufficient, under this hell-black enactment, to send the most pious and exemplary black man into the remorseless jaws of slavery! His own testimony is nothing. He can bring no witnesses for himself. The minister of American justice is bound by the law to hear but one side; and that side is the side of the oppressor. Let this damning fact be perpetually told. Let it be thundered around the world that in tyrant-killing, king-hating, people-loving, democratic, Christian America the seats of justice are filled with judges who hold their offices under an open and palpable bribe, and are bound, in deciding the case of a man’s liberty, to hear only his accusers!

In glaring violation of justice, in shameless disregard of the forms of administering law, in cunning arrangement to entrap the defenceless, and in diabolical intent this Fugitive Slave Law stands alone in the annals of tyrannical legislation. I doubt if there be another nation on the globe having the brass and the baseness to put such a law on the statute-book. If any man in this assembly thinks differently from me in this matter, and feels able to disprove my statements, I will gladly confront him at any suitable time and place he may select.

I take this law to be one of the grossest infringements of Christian Liberty, and, if the churches and ministers of our country were nor stupidly blind, or most wickedly indifferent, they, too, would so regard it.

At the very moment that they are thanking God for the enjoyment of civil and religious liberty, and for the right to worship God according to the dictates of their own consciences, they are utterly silent in respect to a law which robs religion of its chief significance and makes it utterly worthless to a world lying in wickedness. Did this law concern the “mint, anise, and cummin”-abridge the right to sing psalms, to partake of the sacrament, or to engage in any of the ceremonies of religion, it would be smitten by the thunder of a thousand pulpits. A general shout would go up from the church demanding repeal, repeal, instant repeal!-And it would go hard with that politician who presumed to so licit the votes of the people without inscribing this motto on his banner. Further, if this demand were not complied with, another Scotland would be added to the history of religious liberty, and the stern old covenanters would be thrown into the shade. A John Knox would be seen at every church door and heard from every pulpit, and Fillmore would have no more quarter than was shown by Knox to the beautiful, but treacherous, Queen Mary of Scotland. The fact that the church of our country (with fractional exceptions) does not esteem “the Fugitive Slave Law” as a declaration of war against religious liberty, im plies that that church regards religion simply as a form of worship, an empty ceremony, and not a vital principle, requiring active benevolence, justice, love, and good will towards man. It esteems sacrifice above mercy; psalm-singing above right doing; solemn meetings above practical righteousness. A worship that can be conducted by persons who refuse to give shelter to the houseless, to give bread to the hungry, clothing to the naked, and who enjoin obedience to a law forbidding these acts of mercy is a curse, not a blessing to mankind. The Bible addresses all such persons as “scribes, pharisees, hypocrites, who pay tithe ofÝ mint, anise, and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith.”

But the church of this country is not only indifferent to the wrongs of the slave, it actually takes sides with the oppressors. It has made itself the bulwark of American slavery, and the shield of American slave-hunters. Many of its most eloquent Divines, who stand as the very lights of the church, have shamelessly given the sanction of religion and the Bible to the whole slave system. They have taught that man may, properly, be a slave; that the relation of master and slave is ordained of God; that to send back an escaped bondman to his master is clearly the duty of all the followers of the Lord Jesus Christ; and this horrible blasphemy is palmed off upon the world for Christianity.

For my part, I would say, welcome infidelity! welcome atheism! welcome anything! in preference to the gospel, as preached by those Divines! They convert the very name of religion into an engine of tyranny and barbarous cruelty, and serve to confirm more infidels, in this age, than all the infidel writings of Thomas Paine, Voltaire, and Bolingbroke put together have done! These ministers make religion a cold and flinty-hearted thing, having neither principles of right action nor bowels of compassion. They strip the love of God of its beauty and leave the throne of religion a huge, horrible, repulsive form. It is a religion for oppressors, tyrants, man-stealers, and thugs. It is not that “pure and undefiled religion” which is from above, and which is “first pure, then peaceable, easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and with out hypocrisy.” But a religion which favors the rich against the poor; which exalts the proud above the humble; which divides mankind into two classes, tyrants and slaves; which says to the man in chains, stay there; and to the oppressor, oppress on; it is a religion which may be professed and enjoyed by all the robbers and enslavers of mankind; it makes God a respecter of persons, denies his fatherhood of the race, and tramples in the dust the great truth of the brotherhood of man. All this we affirm to be true of the popular church, and the popular worship of our land and nation-a religion, a church, and a worship which, on the authority of inspired wisdom, we pronounce to be an abomination in the sight of God. In the language of Isaiah, the American church might be well addressed, “Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me: the new moons and Sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn meeting. Your new moons, and your appointed feasts my soul hateth. They are a trouble to me; I am weary to bear them; and when ye spread forth your hands I will hide mine eyes from you. Yea’ when ye make many prayers, I will not hear. Your hands are full of blood; cease to do evil, learn to do well; seek judgment; relieve the oppressed; judge for the fatherless; plead for the widow.”

The American church is guilty, when viewed in connection with what it is doing to uphold slavery; but it is superlatively guilty when viewed in its connection with its ability to abolish slavery.

The sin of which it is guilty is one of omission as well as of commission. Albert Barnes but uttered what the common sense of every man at all observant of the actual state of the case will receive as truth, when he declared that “There is no power out of the church that could sustain slavery an hour, if it were not sustained in it.”

Let the religious press, the pulpit, the Sunday School, the conference meeting, the great ecclesiastical, missionary, Bible and tract associations of the land array their immense powers against slavery, and slave-holding; and the whole system of crime and blood would be scattered to the winds, and that they do not do this involves them in the most awful responsibility of which the mind can conceive.

In prosecuting the anti-slavery enterprise, we have been asked to spare the church, to spare the ministry; but how, we ask, could such a thing be done? We are met on the threshold of our efforts for the redemption of the slave, by the church and ministry of the country, in battle arrayed against us; and we are compelled to fight or flee. From what quarter, I beg to know, has proceeded a fire so deadly upon our ranks, during the last two years, as from the Northern pulpit? As the champions of oppressors, the chosen men of American theology have appeared-men honored for their so-called piety, and their real learning. The Lords of Buffalo, the Springs of New York, the Lathrops of Auburn, the Coxes and Spencers of Brooklyn, the Gannets and Sharps of Boston, the Deweys of Washington, and other great religious lights of the land have, in utter denial of the authority of Him by whom they professed to be called to the ministry, deliberately taught us, against the example of the Hebrews, and against the remonstrance of the Apostles, that we ought to obey man’s law before the law of God.2

My spirit wearies of such blasphemy; and how such men can be supported, as the “standing types and representatives of Jesus Christ,” is a mystery which I leave others to penetrate. In speaking of the American church, however, let it be distinctly understood that I mean the great mass of the religious organizations of our land. There are exceptions, and I thank God that there are. Noble men may be found, scattered all over these Northern States, of whom Henry Ward Beecher, of Brooklyn; Samuel J. May, of Syracuse; and my esteemed friend (Rev. R. R. Raymond) on the platform, are shining examples; and let me say further, that, upon these men lies the duty to inspire our ranks with high religious faith and zeal, and to cheer us on in the great mission of the slave’s redemption from his chains.

One is struck with the difference between the attitude of the American church towards the anti-slavery movement, and that occupied by the churches in Eng land towards a similar movement in that country. There, the church, true to its mission of ameliorating, elevating and improving the condition of mankind, came forward promptly, bound up the wounds of the West Indian slave, and re stored him to his liberty. There, the question of emancipation was a high religious question. It was demanded in the name of humanity, and according to the law of the living God. The Sharps, the Clarksons, the Wilberforces, the Buxtons, the Burchells, and the Knibbs were alike famous for their piety and for their philanthropy. The anti-slavery movement there was not an anti-church movement, for the reason that the church took its full share in prosecuting that movement: and the anti-slavery movement in this country will cease to be an anti-church movement, when the church of this country shall assume a favorable instead of a hostile position towards that movement.

Americans! your republican politics, not less than your republican religion, are flagrantly inconsistent. You boast of your love of liberty, your superior civilization, and your pure Christianity, while the whole political power of the nation (as embodied in the two great political parties) is solemnly pledged to support and perpetuate the enslavement of three millions of your countrymen. You hurl your anathemas at the crowned headed tyrants of Russia and Austria and pride yourselves on your Democratic institutions, while you yourselves consent to be the mere tools and body-guards of the tyrants of Virginia and Carolina. You invite to your shores fugitives of oppression from abroad, honor them with banquets, greet them with ovations, cheer them, toast them, salute them, protect them, and pour out your money to them like water; but the fugitives from oppression in your own land you advertise, hunt, arrest, shoot, and kill. You glory in your refinement and your universal education; yet you maintain a system as barbarous and dreadful as ever stained the character of a nation-a system begun in avarice, supported in pride, and perpetuated in cruelty. You shed tears over fallen Hungary, and make the sad story of her wrongs the theme of your poets, statesmen, and orators, till your gallant sons are ready to fly to arms to vindicate her cause against the oppressor; but, in regard to the ten thousand wrongs of the American slave, you would enforce the strictest silence, and would hail him as an enemy of the nation who dares to make those wrongs the subject of public discourse! You are all on fire at the mention of liberty for France or for Ireland; but are as cold as an iceberg at the thought of liberty for the enslaved of America. You discourse eloquently on the dignity of labor; yet, you sustain a system which, in its very essence, casts a stigma upon labor. You can bare your bosom to the storm of British artillery to throw off a three-penny tax on tea; and yet wring the last hard earned farthing from the grasp of the black laborers of your country. You profess to believe “that, of one blood, God made all nations of men to dwell on the face of all the earth,” and hath commanded all men, everywhere, to love one another; yet you notoriously hate (and glory in your hatred) all men whose skins are not colored like your own. You declare before the world, and are understood by the world to declare that you “hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal; and are endowed by their Creator with certain in alienable rights; and that among these are, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; and yet, you hold securely, in a bondage which, according to your own Thomas Jefferson, “is worse than ages of that which your fathers rose in rebellion to oppose,” a seventh part of the inhabitants of your country.

Fellow-citizens, I will not enlarge further on your national inconsistencies. The existence of slavery in this country brands your republicanism as a sham, your humanity as a base pretense, and your Christianity as a lie. It destroys your moral power abroad: it corrupts your politicians at home. It saps the foundation of religion; it makes your name a hissing and a bye-word to a mocking earth. It is the antagonistic force in your government, the only thing that seriously disturbs and endangers your Union. it fetters your progress; it is the enemy of improvement; the deadly foe of education; it fosters pride; it breeds insolence; it promotes vice; it shelters crime; it is a curse to the earth that supports it; and yet you cling to it as if it were the sheet anchor of all your hopes. Oh! be warned! be warned! a horrible reptile is coiled up in your nation’s bosom; the venomous creature is nursing at the tender breast of your youthful republic; for the love of God, tear away, and fling from you the hideous monster, and let the weight of twenty millions crush and destroy it forever!

But it is answered in reply to all this, that precisely what I have now denounced is, in fact, guaranteed and sanctioned by the Constitution of the United States; that, the right to hold, and to hunt slaves is a part of that Constitution framed by the illustrious Fathers of this Republic.

Then, I dare to affirm, notwithstanding all I have said before, your fathers stooped, basely stooped

To palter with us in a double sense:
And keep the word of promise to the ear,
But break it to the heart.

And instead of being the honest men I have before declared them to be, they were the veriest impostors that ever practised on mankind. This is the inevitable conclusion, and from it there is no escape; but I differ from those who charge this baseness on the framers of the Constitution of the United States. It is a slander upon their memory, at least, so I believe. There is not time now to argue the constitutional question at length; nor have I the ability to discuss it as it ought to be discussed. The subject has been handled with masterly power by Lysander Spooner, Esq. by William Goodell, by Samuel E. Sewall, Esq., and last, though not least, by Gerrit Smith, Esq. These gentlemen have, as I think, fully and clearly vindicated the Constitution from any design to support slavery for an hour.

Fellow-citizens! there is no matter in respect to which the people of the North have allowed themselves to be so ruinously imposed upon as that of the pro-slavery character of the Constitution. In that instrument I hold there is neither warrant, license, nor sanction of the hateful thing; but interpreted, as it ought to be interpreted, the Constitution is a glorious liberty document. Read its preamble, consider its purposes. Is slavery among them? Is it at the gate way? or is it in the temple? it is neither. While I do not intend to argue this question on the present occasion, let me ask, if it be not somewhat singular that, if the Constitution were intended to be, by its framers and adopters, a slaveholding instrument, why neither slavery, slaveholding, nor slave can any where be found in it. What would be thought of an instrument, drawn up, legally drawn up, for the purpose of entitling the city of Rochester to a tract of land, in which no mention of land was made? Now, there are certain rules of interpretation for the proper understanding of all legal instruments. These rules are well established. They are plain, commonsense rules, such as you and I, and all of us, can understand and apply, without having passed years in the study of law. I scout the idea that the question of the constitutionality, or unconstitutionality of slavery, is not a question for the people. I hold that every American citizen has a right to form an opinion of the constitution, and to propagate that opinion, and to use all honorable means to make his opinion the prevailing one. Without this right, the liberty of an American citizen would be as insecure as that of a Frenchman. Ex-Vice-President Dallas tells us that the constitution is an object to which no American mind can be too attentive, and no American heart too devoted. He further says, the Constitution, in its words, is plain and intelligible, and is meant for the home-bred, unsophisticated understandings of our fellow-citizens. Senator Berrien tells us that the Constitution is the fundamental law, that which controls all others. The charter of our liberties, which every citizen has a personal interest in understanding thoroughly. The testimony of Senator Breese, Lewis Cass, and many others that might be named, who are everywhere esteemed as sound lawyers, so regard the constitution. I take it, therefore, that it is not presumption in a private citizen to form an opinion of that instrument.

Now, take the Constitution according to its plain reading, and I defy the presentation of a single pro-slavery clause in it. On the other hand, it will be found to contain principles and purposes, entirely hostile to the existence of slavery.

I have detained my audience entirely too long already. At some future period I will gladly avail myself of an opportunity to give this subject a full and fair discussion.

Allow me to say, in conclusion, notwithstanding the dark picture I have this day presented, of the state of the nation, I do not despair of this country. There are forces in operation which must inevitably work the downfall of slavery.

“The arm of the Lord is not shortened,” and the doom of slavery is certain. I, therefore, leave off where I began, with hope. While drawing encouragement from “the Declaration of Independence,” the great principles it contains, and the genius of American Institutions, my spirit is also cheered by the obvious tendencies of the age. Nations do not now stand in the same relation to each other that they did ages ago. No nation can now shut itself up from the surrounding world and trot round in the same old path of its fathers without interference. The time was when such could be done. Long established customs of hurtful character could formerly fence themselves in, and do their evil work with social impunity. Knowledge was then confined and enjoyed by the privileged few, and the multitude walked on in mental darkness. But a change has now come over the affairs of mankind. Walled cities and empires have become unfashionable. The arm of commerce has borne away the gates of the strong city. Intelligence is penetrating the darkest corners of the globe. It makes its pathway over and under the sea, as well as on the earth. Wind, steam, and lightning are its chartered agents. Oceans no longer divide, but link nations together. From Boston to London is now a holiday excursion. Space is comparatively annihilated.-Thoughts expressed on one side of the Atlantic are distinctly heard on the other.

The far off and almost fabulous Pacific rolls in grandeur at our feet. The Celestial Empire, the mystery of ages, is being solved. The fiat of the Almighty, “Let there be Light,” has not yet spent its force. No abuse, no outrage whether in taste, sport or avarice, can now hide itself from the all-pervading light. The iron shoe, and crippled foot of China must be seen in contrast with nature. Africa must rise and put on her yet unwoven garment. “Ethiopia shall stretch out her hand unto God.” In the fervent aspirations of William Lloyd Garrison, I say, and let every heart join in saying it:

God speed the year of jubilee
The wide world o’er!
When from their galling chains set free,
Th’ oppress’d shall vilely bend the knee,

And wear the yoke of tyranny
Like brutes no more.
That year will come, and freedom’s reign.
To man his plundered rights again
Restore.

God speed the day when human blood
Shall cease to flow!
In every clime be understood,
The claims of human brotherhood,
And each return for evil, good,
Not blow for blow;

That day will come all feuds to end,
And change into a faithful friend
Each foe. 

A Very Brief Reflection on America and its Obsession with Homicide

Apparently, in the USA, you can be murdered and have the case casually thrown out as if it were nothing. Actually, this is a Great American Tradition. Leaving aside the kind of casual, joyful killings of Jews that used to take place in the Ukraine, Romania and Croatia (among other places) under Hitler’s regime, or in Nanjing under Japanese fascism, or in Pinochet’s Chile, or under the Gang of Four in China, these casual killings of niggers, spics, gooks and even dagos are simply a part of America’s “culture”–if you can call it a “culture”–and have to be understood within this context.

We all know the United States (like any other “great” empire) was forged in violence. The United States, perhaps more so than any other nation in the developed world, perfectly exemplifies Fanon’s dictum about colonialism being “violence in its natural state.” I think I have written about this before in a previous posting. The sad truth about all of this disgusting violence is that–if history proves us right–it will not let up unless an even more violent reactive force holds it in check. This statement is merely an observation of the movement of history. One can safely predict what will eventually happen in the United States when the recipients of American state and social violence (on either side of the political divide) simply feel that they have enough.

Naturally the REAL perpetrators of American violence are at the top of the American social/political totem pole, not on the bottom. Bill Cosby does not run the United States of America, any more than O.J. Simpson does.Snoop Dogg doesn’t run the United States of America, and neither does 50 Cent or Kendrick Lamar or any other rapper, basketball player, footballer, corrupt black mayor or politician or writer or otherwise. But you can’t tell this to the likes of demagogic maniacs such as Baked Alaska, Gavin MacInness and their ilk.