I HAVE CANCER!!!

FELLOW PROGRESSIVES: My deepest apologies for the lack of leadeRship in the communities’ “progrEssive movement”. To all who know me, or know of me, I want to tell you that I have come to expect more of myself then I can actually put forth at this particular time due to the fact that I may soon have to start my treatments. (Just the man tryin’ keep a brotha down.) Don’t trust the Doctors, they are doing experiments on us!!! They will tell you, that you have Cancer, that they haVe to surgically remove your thyroid. The only word you hear is Cancer. Then God starts singing you the ICP song, B%TCHES, “don’t you know I lOve you, but now you got to die”. That’s all you hear till you turn your life over to Christ. “Its Amazing what you will do when you think your goNa DIE!!!” The day before I was to have surgery I was sitting on the quad at ILlinois State University, April 17, 2002. I was It was about 3:30 PM on a Wednesday afternoon. I was SCARED, REALLY SCARED. I started to pray, I asked JesUs to give me a sign, a sign to let me know that everything was going to be alrighT. I had my eyes closed, in deep concentration, when I asked this of Our Lord And Savior, as soon as the “t” in “Alright” left my lIps, two students said “Excuse me”. I didn’t even hear them walk up, they just appeared out of nowhere. As soon as I opened my eyes I saw a young man and a young wOman. Both of them dressed really coNservatively, “think Carlton from the “French Prince of Bel-Aire”. (But Blond Hair and Blue Eyes) I was sitting down against a tree with my head down in deep prayer, when I hear “Excuse me”. As soon as I open my eyes they ask me: simultaneously “Do you believe in Our Lord Jesus Christ”? , “Not even a fraction of a Pico second has passed since the word “Alright” has left my lips”, “No, it was faster”, no time elapsed at all It was instantaneous. “And whats we ask, we receive” 1 John 3:22, I don’t know if was the time of day or what, but they had this aura around them, light radiating from around their heads. At first I thought it was the sun directly behind them. But the more I think about it, the more I come to the conclusion, that there is no possible explanation to why the sun was setting in the Eastern sky. I was facing east, facing: Old Union the home of WGLT the University Radio Station. Home to NPR (National Public Radio) The Jazz Hour, and back in the alley, Frank Black “The Delta Doctor” host of the best damn blues show in the country. So there is no way the suN could possibly be behind them. I think that they were my “Guarding Angles” And they told me that Jesus sent them as a sign to tell me: “Every thing’s gOnna be alright” “ No Woman, No cry” Legend, Bob Marley (0) Comments

Posted: 8/26/2006 4:40:54 AM

Letter to Luara Bush by: Henry Rollins ( Hilarious!!!)

Dear Miss Bush, I am writing you today out of genuine concern for you and your wonderful daughters. First of all please allow me to compliment you for standing by your man, Our President. I know how unbelievable trying, embracing, and infuriating it must be for you at times. I know you are college educated, literate, a librarian no less. And that conversations with George W. Bush may be remanisant of the time you waved and said hello to the gorillas at the San Diego Zoo a few years ago or trying to establish a dialogue with a bowl of waxed fruit. Your patients is only match by your perpetual frozen expressions of fear, heartbreak and startled surprise that cries out, I self-medicate, Im on half a bottle of Stolie and a fist full of Zoloft before noon. I see you at his side as he visits Louisiana and dodges questions about FEMA and the lack of aid going to people in that region. You are with him every step of the way as his approval rating continually sinks. Your wonderful monologue at the correspondence dinner months ago had me in stitches; they should rename you the First Lady of Comedy! You know? You and I have a lot in common. Neither of us feels any safer since the invasion of Iraq and, we both have an attention span that last longer then a half an hour. And we both have a sense of humor. That being said, I am going to go out on a limb here and offer my friendship to you. I have to think we can have a better time then what you are used too, I mean come on how many hours of a drunken Lynn Cheney reading aloud from Mein Kampf can anyone stand?! If you do want to hang out, think of all the fun we could have. We could go to one of the many American sea ports and watch weapons of mass destructions get waved in by Dubai Nationals. We could light bags of dog doo on fire at Hillary Clinton door step, ring the buzzer and run like hell. All I am saying Miss Bush, I know you are suffering your husband as much as I am and we might as well get our kicks before the whole shithouse goes up in flames. What do you say? Henry (0) Comments

Posted: 5/10/2006 2:15:08 AM

Tangent (weak very weak)

The law called HR4437, is a law about immigration. The law states that if you are in the united states of america illegally, you will be put in prison. And labled a felon.If you help an illegal immigrant you will be put in jail and labled a felon. The united states of america, has profitted immensely off the backs of immigrant workers for decades.So the governtment has looked the other way in regaurds to immigration law. As long as the profits were good. So be it, let them work, for slave wages. But the numbers have gotten to large, upwards of fifteen milliion, now live in the united state illegaly. So they need to allivate the problem.Never mind the fact that these people are already amercianized. They are hard working, law abiding citizen of this country. They just dont have their paper work.So now, because of their fear of the browning of Amercia. Because of Xenophobia, they choose to demonize us. The immigrant worker, who does all the back breaking work.... care for their childern and their elderly.Now that we a ingrained in this society. You want to lock us up? You want to send us back to our homeland? Well this is our homeland.We are decendants of this great continent. Our ancestors walked the Rocky Mountains from Alaska to Mexico. We hunted the great plains Long before the real illegal came to this country. The Italian, on his Spanish Ships. We were the KINGS and QUEENS of this great land. And they are my ancestors. So to fight this great injustice we hit the streets, we march, we boycott, we protest, we will vote!!! I am an American Citizen, and I am going to stand and fight for my people, the true Americans!!! (2) Comments

Posted: 5/7/2006 11:47:46 PM

Second Entry

I am going to kill you!!! You little bastard, YOUR the DEVIL. I cant stand you!!! I thought I saw foam, comming from her mouth. Like a rabid dog. The fear was paralyzing. -My first encounter with terror. (0) Comments

Posted: 5/7/2006 11:15:49 PM

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Posted: 5/6/2006 3:50:49 AM

First Entry

Saturday, May 06, 2006 One of my earliest memories, a summer day, had to be June maybe July. It feels like I am watching a home movie, the grained and warped film, of me at three, is a happy one. I feel love, warmth... and joy. The image is burned, I will never forget. White picket fence, running around in the back yard. Paint, some man, is that you dad? Nothing… (2) Comments

Posted: 5/6/2006 3:43:05 AM

My Speech at Rally May 1, 2006

My Heros.....Malcolm,Huey,Martin,Che,Hugo,Ceasar,Jesus. You are all my hero’s, You who are not afraid of persecution. You who are not afraid of personal attacks on your character. You who are not afraid to stand up and fight for what is right. If you are here today, you know that HR4437 is..... Inhumane, Unjust and full of hatred and fear. Hatred and fear of a race of people, the European had thought he had eliminated. Fear that, Not war, Not smallpox, Not Mass Genocide... Not HR4437 will keep us down. Hatred that no matter what you throw at us... Inferiority complex, Slave wage labor, Zoot Suit Riot, Rep Sensenbrenner we still keep coming back. All we ask is that you welcome us with open arms and Baring gifts. The same way our ancestors, our blood line Welcomed you. Before you raped, pillaged and stole this great Continent called America. Our ancestors did not ask the European Immigrant for their green cards. They did not ask for their guest worker certificates. They opened our land to everyone, so that we could all live in peace and harmony. And now you want to treat us , the true heirs of this great land, like criminals? You call us illegal and felons. We are none of these, we are Yaqui, Aztec, Mayan, Navajo, Apache, Lacota and so on and so on… We the great native people of this land and we are not going no where. We have seen the unjust treatment, the imprisonment, the enslavement and murder of all people of color. We have seen the systematic Assination and imprisonment of all our great leaders. We have stood by silent and afraid waiting for our numbers to grow. And now the day has come, we will no longer sit and watch as you demonize and criminalize all people of color. The tide has turned and all people of color will stand together against the great oppressor of the globe. We demand full amnesty for all immigrants we demand the option of full citizenship to future guest workers with in 6 months. We demand a look at making reparations to our African American Brothas and Sistas for their priceless contributions to this great country under 400 years of oppression and slavery. We demand the release of all people who are incarcerated for being Black, Brown or Muslim. We demand freedom!!! (1) Comments

Posted: 5/5/2006 9:51:16 AM

African Americans Wanted and Needed!!!

Hermanos/Hermanas Tha battle lines have been drawn, and the issues has polarized the country. We need our African American allies, to win this battle. Most are on board, but some, the uneducated, the apatetic or confused. Need to be reminded of what the history of this country is truly like. Opperssion of all people of color. The brown and yellow is just the next in line of a long string of people who have been oppressed. MY plan, to reach out to the African American community and remind them of what their ancestors had to do, in the battle for equality. And that it is the same struggle that we are facing now. They say that it is not about race, but about laws. Yet, they ferment at the mouth when we fly our Mexican Flags, our Salvadoran Flags, our Filopeno Flags our African Flags. But come St. Patricks Day, not one mention of the Irish Flag. Why? Because that is part of their history, european history(WHITE HISTORY!!!) So dont tell me that this has nothing to do with RACE. All people of color need to stand together to fight this opperssion. If you feel that I am right Repost this message to all African Americans that you know. With the Subject: African Americans Wanted/Needed. Go to all the "African American" myspace site and post this message. We at Black Commentator have found it very disturbing to witness the vehement, and sometimes verbally violent, reaction to our support for the rights of Latino immigrants. It is also quite upsetting to see Black legislators making common cause with the most racist elements of the Democratic and Republican parties, in proposing draconian measures to criminalize those who are undocumented. It is an extremely stupid approach to the liberation of Black people, which can only happen in an environment where everyone is liberated. That's why, historically Black people have been in the forefront of society-wide liberation - because we knew that it was in our own best interest. And our elected representatives have historically understood this paradigm. But there is a new group out there, who somehow believe that there is political profit in allying Blacks with nativist whites - who actively agitate against Black interests, as well as those of Latinos. This is insane. The greatest political challenge facing African Americans in the urban centers is to find common ground with Latinos. Such ground can be found, in the common need for employment at a living wage, and the struggle against gentrification. This struggle is not about who outnumbers who, but how a better United States can be created. We do not get there by joining forces with those who have made the United States such an often horrific place for Black people. The people who were responsible for those crimes were not Latinos, and the driving forces behind criminalizing Latino immigrants are the same ones that have criminalized whole Black communities, and created an African American gulag in the nation's prisons. Black people do not have to like Latinos or their culture, nor do they have to like ours. What is important, is to act in our common interest. Immigrants with no rights bring down the standard of living for all of us. Don't fight the immigrant; fight the people who seek to create a subterranean class of workers, whose very presence diminishes the bargaining power of every other American. Labor campaigns such as Justice for Janitors, which engages predominantly Latino workers, have proven that immigrants are anxious to improve their standard of living - to fight for a living wage. When immigrants are paid a living wage, the standards of civilized labor are made stronger, for everyone. But when a whole class of people are made criminals - as Black people are and have been criminalized - then the bar of civilization plummets, straight to the bottom, as do wages. African Americans have no stake in nativist whites' desire to keep the US of A white. We do have a stake in influencing the political behavior of Latino immigrants, with whom we must negotiate for control of the cities. It is a fool's game to side with the enemy in this historic encounter. We know who the enemy is - the same one who brought us to this country in chains, who is also the same one who stole half of Mexico. Let's not be confused. For Radio BC, I'm Glen Ford. http://www.blackcommentator.com/radio_bc/laterst_radio_bc.html Sonny Garcia Bloomington, IL -Please Repost- (0) Comments

Posted: 5/5/2006 9:28:40 AM

want your money

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Need more bandwidth!!!! For myspace. (0) Comments

Posted: 5/4/2006 6:47:10 PM

Who I Am

I am Joaquin, Lost in a world of confusion, Caught up in a whirl of a gringo society, Confused by the rules, Scorned by attitudes, Suppressed by manipulations, And destroyed by modern society. My fathers have lost the economic battle and won the struggle of cultural survival. And now! I must choose between the paradox of Victory of the spirit, despite physical hunger Or to exist in the grasp of American social neurosis, sterilization of the soul, and a full stomach. YES, I have come a long way to nowhere, Unwillingly dragged by that monstrous, technical industrial giant called Progress and Anglo success… I look at myself. I watch my brothers. I shed tears of sorrow. I sow seeds of hate. I withdraw to the safety within the Circle of life . . . MY OWN PEOPLE I am Cuauhtemoc, Proud and Noble Leader of men, King of an empire, civilized beyond the dreams of the Gachupin Cortez, Who also is the blood, the image of myself. I am the Maya Prince. I am Netzahualcoyotl, Great leader of the Chichimecas. I am the sword and flame of Cortez the despot. And I am the Eagle and Serpent of the Aztec civilization. I owned the land as far as the eye could see under the crown of Spain, and I toiled on my earth and gave my Indian sweat and blood for the Spanish master, Who ruled with tyranny over man and beast and all that he could trample But . . . THE GROUND WAS MINE. I was both tyrant and slave. As Christian church took its place in God's good name, to take and use my Virgin strength and Trusting faith, The priests both good and bad, took But gave a lasting truth that Spaniard, Indian, Mestizo Were all God's children And from these words grew men who prayed and fought for their own worth as human beings, for that GOLDEN MOMENT Of FREEDOM. I was part in blood and spirit of that courageous village priest Hidalgo in the year eighteen hundred and ten who rang the bell of independence and gave out that lasting cry: El Grito de Dolores, "Que mueran los Gachupines y que viva la Virgin de Guadalupe" I sentenced him who was me. I excommunicated him my blood. I drove him from the Pulpit to lead a bloody revolution for him and me I killed him. His head, which is mine and all of those who have conic this way, I placed on that fortress wall to wall for Independence. Morelos! Matamoros! Guerrero! All Compañeros in the act, STOOD AGAINST THAT WALL OF INFAMY to feel the hot gouge of lead which my hands made. I died with them . . . I lived with them I lived to see our country free. Free from Spanish rule in eighteen -hundred- twenty-one. Mexico was Free The crown was gone but all his parasites remained and ruled and taught with gun and flame and mystic power. I worked, I sweated, I bled, I prayed and waited silently for life to again commence. I fought and died for Don Benito Juarez Guardian of the Constitution. I was him on clusty roads on barren land as he protected his archives as Moses did his sacraments. He held his Mexico in his hand on the most desolate and remote ground which was his country And this Giant Little Zapotec gave not one palm's breadth of his country's land to Kings or Monarchs or Presidents of foreign powers. I am Joaquin. I rode with Pancho Villa, crude and warm. A tornado at full strength, nourished and inspired by the passion and the fire of all his earth, people. I am Emillano Zapata. "This Land This Earth Is OURS" The Villages The Mountains The Streams belong to Zapatistas. Our life Or yours is the only trade for soft brown earth and maiz. All of which is our reward, A creed that formed a constitution for all who dare live free! "This land is ours . . . Father, I give it back to you. Mexico must be free . . .' I ride with Revolutionists against myself. I am Rural Course and brutal, I am the mountain Indian, superior over all. The thundering hoof beats are my horses. The chattering of machine guns' are death to all of me: Yaqui Tarahumara Chamula Zapotec Mestizo Español I have been the Bloody Revolution, The Victor, The Vanquished, I have killed and been killed. I am despots Diaz and Huerta and the apostle of democracy Francisco Madero. I am the black shawled faithful women who die with me or live depending on the time and place. I am faithful, humble, Juan Diego, the Virgen de Guadalupe, Tonatzin, Aztec Goddess too. I rode the mountains of San Joaquin. I rode as far East and North as the Rocky Mountains And all men feared the guns of Joaquin Murrietta. I killed those men who dared to steal my mine, who raped and Killed my Love my Wife Then I Killed to stay alive. I was Alfego. Baca, living my nine lives fully. I was the Espinoza brothers of the Valle de San Luis. All, were added to the number of heads that in the name of civilization were placed on the wall of independence. Heads of brave men who died for cause or principle. Good or Bad. Hidalgo! Zapata! Murrietta! Espinozas! are but a few. They dared to face The force of tyranny of men who rule by farce and hypocrisy I stand here looking back, and now I see the present and still I arn the campesino I am the fat political coyote I, of the same name, Joaquin. In a country that has wiped out AIl my history, stiffled all my pride. In a country that has placed a different weight of indignity upon my age old burdened back. Inferiority is the new load . . . The Indian has endured and still emerged the winner, The Mestizo must yet overcome, and the Gachupin will just ignore. I look at myself and see part of me who rejects my father and my mother and dissolves into the melting pot to disappear in shame. I sometimes sell my brother out and reclaim him for my own when society, gives me token leadership in society's own name. I am Joaquin, who bleeds in many ways. The altars of Moctezuma I stained a bloody red. My back of Indian Slavery was stripped crimson from the whips of masters who would lose their blood so pure when Revolution made them pay Standing against the walls of Retribution, Blood . . . Has flowed from me on every battlefield between Campesino, Hacendado Slave and Master and Revolution. I jumped from the tower of Chapultepec into the sea of fame; My country's flag my burial shroud; With Los Niños, whose pride and courage could not surrender with indignity their country's flag . . . in their land. To strangers now I bleed in some smelly cell from club. or gun. or tyranny. I bleed as the vicious gloves of hunger cut my face and eyes, as I fight my way from stinking Barrios to the glamour of the Ring and lights of fame or mutilated sorrow. My blood runs pure on the ice caked hills of the Alaskan Isles, on the corpse strewn beach of Normandy, the foreign land of Korea and now Viet Nam. Here I stand before the Court of Justice Guilty for all the glory of my Raza to be sentenced to despair. Here I stand Poor in money Arrogant with pride Bold with Machismo Rich in courage and Wealthy in spirit and faith My knees are caked with mud. My hands calloused from the hoe. I have made the Anglo rich yet Equality is but a word, the Treaty of Hidalgo has been broken and is but another treacherous promise. My land is lost and stolen, My culture has been raped, lengthen the line at the welfare door and fill the jails with crime. These then are the rewards this society has For sons of Chiefs and Kings and bloody Revolutionists. Who gave a foreign people all their skills and ingenuity to pave the way with Brains and Blood for those hordes of Gold starved Strangers Who changed our language and plagiarized our deeds as feats of valor of their own. They frowned upon our way of life and took what they could use. Our Art Our Literature Our music, they ignored so they left the real things of value and grabbed at their own destruction by their Greed and Avarice They overlooked that cleansing fountain of nature and brotherhood Which is Joaquin. The art of our great señors Diego Rivera Siqueiros Orozco is butanother act of revolution for the Salvation of mankind. Mariachi music, the heart and soul of the people of the earth, the life of child, and the happiness of love The Corridos tell the tales of life and death, of tradition, Legends old and new, of Joy of passion and sorrow of the people: who I am. I am in the eyes of woman, sheltered beneath her shawl of black, deep and sorrowful eyes, That bear the pain of sons long buried or dying, Dead on the battlefield or on the barbwire of social strife. Her rosary she prays and fingers endlessly like the family working down a row of beets to turn around and work and work There is no end. Her eyes a mirror of all the warmth and all the love for me, And I am her And she is me. We face life together in sorrow. anger, joy, faith and wishful thoughts. I shed tears of anguish as I see my children disappear behind the shroud of mediocrity never to look back to remember me. I am Joaquin. I must fight And win this struggle for my sons, and they must know from me Who I am. Part of the blood that runs deep in me Could not be vanquished by the Moors I defeated them after five hundred years, and I endured. The part of blood that is mine has labored endlessly five-hundred years under the heel of lustful Europeans I am still here! I have endured in the rugged mountains of our country I have survived the toils and slavery, of the fields. I have existed in the barrios of the city, in the suburbs of bigotry, in the mines of social snobbery, in the prisons of dejection, in the muck of exploitation and in the fierce heat of racial hatred. And now the trumpet sounds, The music of the people stirs the Revolution, Like a sleeping giant it slowly rears its head to the sound of Tramping feet Clamouring voices Marlachi strains Fiery tequila explosions The smell of chile verde and Soft brown eyes of expectation for a better life And in all the fertile farm lands, the barren plains, the mountain villages, smoke smeared cities We start to MOVE. La Raza! Mejicano! Español! Latino! Hispano! Chicano! or whatever I call myself, I look the same I feel the same I cry and Sing the same I am the masses of my people and I refuse to be absorbed. I am Joaquin The odds are great but my spirit is strong My faith unbreakable My blood is pure I am Aztec Prince and Christian Christ I SHALL ENDURE! (0) Comments

Posted: 5/3/2006 1:02:54 PM