The rallying cry for community control of police must be extended to the entire governmental apparatus. We have a plethora of governments at the city, county, state and the federal level yet they rarely act on the public’s behalf. That is why elected officials from Idaho to Pennsylvania to Alabama are certain they can get away with using the people’s money for dubious reasons. New prisons and better paid police are all we have to show for sickness, unemployment, and death. . . .
That long history of racist violence against Black men is told in cleverly laid-out shadow puppetry, which simultaneously removes the physical gruesomeness of the acts portrayed while delivering their inhumane brutality. Each shadow-puppet story relates to a different iteration of Candyman, and the collective trauma of centuries of violent racist brutality against Black men turns the Candyman figure into something other than a villain. Terrifying in his visage and actions, certainly, but the question emerges as the connections are made between this history and the urban legend come to life: Is Candyman the monster, or is the monster what created Candyman? . . .
If Black masses are semi-colonized, the solution is decolonization. If slavery was merely reformed, slavery must be abolished in all its iterations. The U.S. police are the representation and manifestation of modern-day slave patrols. For these reasons and others, the police must be abolished in their entirety and other carceral institutions as well. . . .
At the zenith of the George Floyd rebellions “radical” Mayor, Chokwe Antar Lumumba, made a theatrical production out of the fact that his hands were tied because the Civil Service Commission, in which he was responsible for appointing members, overruled his administration’s decision to fire the officers. Mayor Lumumba is deserving of a Tony for how he pretended, on stage and on demand, to care about the lives of these Black people, that were snuffed out by the police department over which he presides and has provided cover for since he took office in July 2017. . . .
you know he was a weapon. didn’t beg for his life. or call for his mother. or his partner.
you know that nigga went out on his feet. brought a gun to a gun fight. brought mutiny to a slave ship at the atlantic shoreline. you know that nigga was a nigga and not like haha nigga not like next democratic presidential nominee nigga not like run fast jump high nigga like worm food covered in tree bark like lead water clogging an artery like dead leaves stuck in a gutter like storm the arsenal and shoot the masters like one of those give me liberty or give me blood types nigga got the nerve to want freedom and do somethin bout it. . . .
For many Black political activists – from some of the most committed bourgeois Democratic Party stalwarts to some of the most revolutionary socialists – there is a widespread commitment to achieving political aspirations, if not within the current system, at least within North America. However, if what we face in this country goes beyond racial tensions and discrimination and is instead a state of war, then plans for freedom or liberation in the U.S. are grounded in self-delusion. . . .
In the wake of this verdict there are those in New African communities who are proclaiming it an instance of justice served. For communities that rarely see their killers and brutalizers prosecuted, it’s understandable any instance of a conviction would be hailed as great justice. You could argue that it’s a great justice for George Floyd’s family and it would be hard to disagree with that. But, as a victim of colonial brutality, George Floyd doesn’t just belong to his immediate family but to the entire movement for New African liberation. It was the entire movement, after all, that brought his murder to light. Which is why it’s crucial that we understand matters of justice and accountability not just in individual terms but in communal terms. . . .
May 2, 2021, marks the 54th commemoration of 29 Black Panther Party members and supporters converging on the California State Capitol in Sacramento, armed with guns, to protest the pending Mulford bill legislation to make carrying guns in public illegal. Don Mulford, a racist state senator from racist Mill Valley in the Bay Area, sponsored this bill, with full backing from the National Rifle Association (NRA). . . .