"Dr. King, Forgotten Radical"

America began perverting Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s message in the spring of 1963. Truthfully, you could put the date just about anywhere along the earlier timeline of his brief public life, too. But I mark it at the Birmingham movement’s climax, right about when Northern whites needed a more distant, less personally threatening change-maker to juxtapose with the black rabble rousers clambering into their own backyards. That’s when Time politely dubbed him the “Negroes’ inspirational leader,” as Gene Roberts and Hank Klibanoff point out in their excellent book Race Beat.

Up until then, King had been eyed as a hasty radical out to push Southern communities past their breaking point — which was a far more accurate understanding of the man’s mission. His “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” is in fact a blunt rejection of letting the establishment set the terms of social change. “The purpose of our direct-action program is to create a situation so crisis-packed that it will inevitably open the door to negotiation,” he wrote, later adding, “We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.”

Shame that quotation rarely makes it into the sort of King remembrances that will mark today’s 40th anniversary of his assassination. Generations after the man’s murder, our efforts to look back on his life too often say more about our own racial fantasies and avoidances than they do about his much-discussed dream. And they obscure a deeply radical worldview that remains urgently important to Americans’ lives. Today, I don’t mourn King’s death so much as I do his abandoned ideas.

We’ve all got reason to avoid the uncomfortable truths King shoved in the nation’s face. It’s a lot easier for African Americans to pine for his leadership than it is to accept our own responsibility for creating the radicalized community he urged upon us. And it’s more comfortable for white America to reduce King’s goals to an idyllic meeting of little black boys and little white girls than it is to consider his analysis of how white supremacy keeps that from becoming reality.

Take, for instance, his point that segregation’s purpose wasn’t just to keep blacks out in the streets but to keep poor whites from taking to them and demanding economic justice. There’s a concept that’s not likely to come up in, say, the speech John McCain was rumored to be planning for today. “The Southern aristocracy took the world and gave the poor white man Jim Crow,” King lectured from the Alabama Capitol steps, following the 1965 march on Selma. “And when his wrinkled stomach cried out for the food that his empty pockets could not provide, he ate Jim Crow, a psychological bird that told him that no matter how bad off he was, at least he was a white man, better than a black man.”

It’s thoughts like those that made him decidedly less popular at the time of his death than today. The bloom started to wear off King’s media rose when he turned his attention to Northern racism. The central defense Southern segregationists offered when thrust on the national stage was that their Jim Crow was no more of a brute than the North’s. King agreed, and in announcing his organization’s move into Chicago, he called the North’s urban ghettos “a system of internal colonialism not unlike the exploitation of the Congo by Belgium.” And he named names, pointing to racist unions as one of a dozen institutions conspiring to strip-mine black communities. So much for “inspirational.” But then, like now, nobody wanted to hear such talk — only the black press paid any attention.

Later, when a white mob hurled bricks and cherry bombs at marchers in Chicago, King told reporters that the scene outdid anything below the Mason-Dixon Line. “I have never in my life seen such hate,” biographer Taylor Branch quotes him as saying. “Not in Mississippi or Alabama.” Today, we hear little about the ideas that experience provoked for King: His deathbed blueprint for changing America’s caste systems included a three-pronged attack on racism, poverty, and war.

It’s that last charge, to fight war-making, that got him in the most trouble during his time and that gets most readily ignored today. Despite grenades of criticism from his fellow civil-rights leaders, his erstwhile ally in the president, and the press, King declared he had no choice but to stand up against the Vietnam War. But what’s striking is the still red-hot relevance of his reasoning, a perspective also likely to be left out of the dreamy platitudes delivered on days like today.

King called the armed forces a “cruel manipulation of the poor” and likened war funding to “some demonic destructive suction tube,” siphoning off resources needed to deal with pressing domestic issues. And he warned that our zeal for the fight reflected “a far deeper malady in the American spirit,” one which drives us to consider the protection of our “overseas investments” to be a greater imperative than the preservation of life. The 1967 speech bears quoting at length:

I am convinced that if we are to get on the right side of the world revolution, we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin the shift from a thing-oriented society to a person-oriented society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.

It’s to our detriment that we whitewash all of these valuable ideas from our national memory of King. But the greatest tragedy may be that African Americans have morphed his belief in the power of community into a follow-the-leader obsession. Each King holiday and memorial spawns another round of “Where’s Waldo?” pondering over who our new leader is, or should be, or if one exists at all.

I suspect King’s answer would be who cares? Indeed, while the rest of the civil-rights establishment cringed when black college students launched their own, amorphous movement of sit-ins, King applauded it. He called the student movement “a revolt against Negroes in the middle class who have indulged themselves in big cars and ranch-style homes rather than joining a movement for freedom,” according to Branch. Today’s preoccupation with naming King’s successors seems similarly trivial.

Black America first anointed King its savior after he stormed onto the national scene in Montgomery, holding together the prolonged 1954 bus boycott with nightly speeches in which he exhorted everyone to stay the course. Jet magazine called him “Alabama’s Modern Moses.” We’ve been waiting for another prophet since he was gunned down on April 4, 1968. I just wish our last one would come back and remind us that our power lies not in leadership but in a collective refusal to be oppressed.

(Source: knowledgeequalsblackpower)

Rock Island Armory 1911

This one is actually chambered in 9mm. Note the thin, single stack magazine. Could probably do without the kind of tacky grip choice but to each their own. I have a Hogue wrap-around grip on my 1911, but kind of want to get a Crimson Trace.

(Source: gunrunnerhell)

lightspeedsound:

hamburgerjack:


todaysdocument:


preservearchives:


This remarkable photograph shows the then oldest living ex-slave, Mrs. Sally Fickland, viewing the Emancipation Proclamation in the Freedom Train at Philadelphia, on September 17, 1947.  This moving image reminds us of the importance of exhibition lighting policies to control both the intensity and duration of light exposure.  The National Archives carefully limits the light exposure of this landmark document to ensure that it survives for future generations to see.  Emancipation Proclamation, RG 11, ARC # 299998.


The National Archives is commemorating the 150th Anniversary of the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation with a special display of the original document at the National Archives Building in Washington, DC, from Sunday, December 30, to Tuesday, January 1.  This will include extended viewing hours, inspirational music, a dramatic reading of the Emancipation Proclamation, and family activities and entertainment for all ages.


She reads that in 1947. She reads that with Jim Crow looming over her shoulder. She reads that with Lynchings running rampant, she reads that with no more social or political rights than when it was signed. I wonder, did she read that on a special day where they were letting Blacks Only read it?
Cause in 1947 they damn sure wasn’t going to let her in with any White people. That’s 1947. That’s after Black soldiers, men and women came back from fighting ANOTHER war, hoping to get appreciated, hoping to get rights and getting nothing.
Something written by a man who cared nothing for or about Black people. Said to be one of his LEAST passionate speeches. Written by someone who didn’t want us here and only decided he was going to let Black fight for the country they’d built after the loss of White life was overwhelming.
I wonder how she felt. She must know it’s some bullshit, having seen the truth of this nation.


^^^^Truth.
I look at this picture, I don’t see some white-washed image of a “HAPPY EX-SLAVE TALKING ABOUT HOW AWESOME SHIT IS NOW”
I see a dissatisfied woman who’s looking at that shit, trying to think, “where the fuck did this shit go wrong, then?” 
OH AND BY THE WAY
WHY THE FUCK WAS THE FIRST PART ALL ABOUT “OH HEY LET’S TALK ABOUT HOW WE GOTTA PRESERVE HISTORICAL DOCUMENTS”
SERIOUSLY, WHITE PPL?
SEE A PICTURE OF A BLACK WOMAN LOOKING AT THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION
AND YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT LIGHTING AND EXPOSURE
AND NOT IN A RACE WAY
IN A ‘WE DON’T WANT THE INK TO FADE” WAY?
WHAT THE FUCK 

lightspeedsound:

hamburgerjack:

todaysdocument:

preservearchives:

This remarkable photograph shows the then oldest living ex-slave, Mrs. Sally Fickland, viewing the Emancipation Proclamation in the Freedom Train at Philadelphia, on September 17, 1947.  This moving image reminds us of the importance of exhibition lighting policies to control both the intensity and duration of light exposure.  The National Archives carefully limits the light exposure of this landmark document to ensure that it survives for future generations to see.  Emancipation Proclamation, RG 11, ARC # 299998.

The National Archives is commemorating the 150th Anniversary of the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation with a special display of the original document at the National Archives Building in Washington, DC, from Sunday, December 30, to Tuesday, January 1.  This will include extended viewing hours, inspirational music, a dramatic reading of the Emancipation Proclamation, and family activities and entertainment for all ages.

She reads that in 1947. She reads that with Jim Crow looming over her shoulder. She reads that with Lynchings running rampant, she reads that with no more social or political rights than when it was signed. I wonder, did she read that on a special day where they were letting Blacks Only read it?

Cause in 1947 they damn sure wasn’t going to let her in with any White people. That’s 1947. That’s after Black soldiers, men and women came back from fighting ANOTHER war, hoping to get appreciated, hoping to get rights and getting nothing.

Something written by a man who cared nothing for or about Black people. Said to be one of his LEAST passionate speeches. Written by someone who didn’t want us here and only decided he was going to let Black fight for the country they’d built after the loss of White life was overwhelming.

I wonder how she felt. She must know it’s some bullshit, having seen the truth of this nation.

^^^^Truth.

I look at this picture, I don’t see some white-washed image of a “HAPPY EX-SLAVE TALKING ABOUT HOW AWESOME SHIT IS NOW”

I see a dissatisfied woman who’s looking at that shit, trying to think, “where the fuck did this shit go wrong, then?” 

OH AND BY THE WAY

WHY THE FUCK WAS THE FIRST PART ALL ABOUT “OH HEY LET’S TALK ABOUT HOW WE GOTTA PRESERVE HISTORICAL DOCUMENTS”

SERIOUSLY, WHITE PPL?

SEE A PICTURE OF A BLACK WOMAN LOOKING AT THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION

AND YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT LIGHTING AND EXPOSURE

AND NOT IN A RACE WAY

IN A ‘WE DON’T WANT THE INK TO FADE” WAY?

WHAT THE FUCK 

(via lightspeedsound)

hamburgerjack:

todaysdocument:

preservearchives:

This remarkable photograph shows the then oldest living ex-slave, Mrs. Sally Fickland, viewing the Emancipation Proclamation in the Freedom Train at Philadelphia, on September 17, 1947.  This moving image reminds us of the importance of exhibition lighting policies to control both the intensity and duration of light exposure.  The National Archives carefully limits the light exposure of this landmark document to ensure that it survives for future generations to see.  Emancipation Proclamation, RG 11, ARC # 299998.

The National Archives is commemorating the 150th Anniversary of the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation with a special display of the original document at the National Archives Building in Washington, DC, from Sunday, December 30, to Tuesday, January 1.  This will include extended viewing hours, inspirational music, a dramatic reading of the Emancipation Proclamation, and family activities and entertainment for all ages.

She reads that in 1947. She reads that with Jim Crow looming over her shoulder. She reads that with Lynchings running rampant, she reads that with no more social or political rights than when it was signed. I wonder, did she read that on a special day where they were letting Blacks Only read it?
Cause in 1947 they damn sure wasn’t going to let her in with any White people. That’s 1947. That’s after Black soldiers, men and women came back from fighting ANOTHER war, hoping to get appreciated, hoping to get rights and getting nothing.
Something written by a man who cared nothing for or about Black people. Said to be one of his LEAST passionate speeches. Written by someone who didn’t want us here and only decided he was going to let Black fight for the country they’d built after the loss of White life was overwhelming.
I wonder how she felt. She must know it’s some bullshit, having seen the truth of this nation.

hamburgerjack:

todaysdocument:

preservearchives:

This remarkable photograph shows the then oldest living ex-slave, Mrs. Sally Fickland, viewing the Emancipation Proclamation in the Freedom Train at Philadelphia, on September 17, 1947.  This moving image reminds us of the importance of exhibition lighting policies to control both the intensity and duration of light exposure.  The National Archives carefully limits the light exposure of this landmark document to ensure that it survives for future generations to see.  Emancipation Proclamation, RG 11, ARC # 299998.

The National Archives is commemorating the 150th Anniversary of the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation with a special display of the original document at the National Archives Building in Washington, DC, from Sunday, December 30, to Tuesday, January 1.  This will include extended viewing hours, inspirational music, a dramatic reading of the Emancipation Proclamation, and family activities and entertainment for all ages.

She reads that in 1947. She reads that with Jim Crow looming over her shoulder. She reads that with Lynchings running rampant, she reads that with no more social or political rights than when it was signed. I wonder, did she read that on a special day where they were letting Blacks Only read it?

Cause in 1947 they damn sure wasn’t going to let her in with any White people. That’s 1947. That’s after Black soldiers, men and women came back from fighting ANOTHER war, hoping to get appreciated, hoping to get rights and getting nothing.

Something written by a man who cared nothing for or about Black people. Said to be one of his LEAST passionate speeches. Written by someone who didn’t want us here and only decided he was going to let Black fight for the country they’d built after the loss of White life was overwhelming.

I wonder how she felt. She must know it’s some bullshit, having seen the truth of this nation.

(via youngbadmangone)

America isn’t home

eastafrodite:

America isn’t home. It’s more of a comfortable and secure living than Eritrea, which admittedly is why my parents moved here, but it also comes at a substantial price.

Distance from relatives, material loss of culture, trying to bridge the “African” and “Black” identities, though seemingly similar, have many contextual differences and while never really having a significant connection to both, needing to vehemently justify labelling yourself “black” to people who’ve never heard and can’t comprehend the purpose for such a descriptor, while trying to retain your African identity in a nation that unfairly generalizes and brutally exploits the livelihoods of your people, being in constant worry that your family isn’t financially afloat, dealing with U.S. occupation of your homeland and subconsciously being aware that you, while tring to survive, undoubtedly exist within the imperialist machine.

Even little tangential things like making up excuses for why you can’t attend so-and-so’s sleepover or birthday party, feeling embarrassment and subsequent guilt for said embarrassment whenever your parents dress up in traditional clothing or speak in thick accents, shouting over substitute teachers before they butcher your last name and humiliate you in front of your peers, stating something, anything about America that you find less than amazing and promptly being told to “go back where you came from” as if everyone’s ancestors didn’t migrate here and thus realizing that you never get to proclaim yourself American. That title is conditional and contingent upon your ignorant adherence to “the American way”, which obviously is equivalent to never thinking, never questioning and never disbelieving.

But in Eritrea, there’s none of that. I’ve lived here my entire life and always felt a weird distance from the average American. Everything from what they find interesting topics to discuss to the things they worry about are strikingly foreign to me, which in hindsight, I consider incredibly sad. In Eritrea, I never had to worry about tediously justifying who I am, where I come from, why I was there. It was my country and I belonged.

I really miss that feeling.

(Source: maarnayeri, via thisisnotafrica)

(Source: metapill)

[TW: Lynching, Violence] “A Sight That Every White Person in the World Should be Able to See.”

knowledgeequalsblackpower:

Brutally and dehumanizingly faced with death, I understood what it meant to be a black man in America. With the noose around my neck and death in my brains, I waited for the end…”

*GRAPHIC EXPLICIT PHOTO OF MEN LYNCHED UNDER THIS LINK | DO NOT CLICK IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO SEE*

^The lynching of Thomas Shipp and Abram Smith. 2 Hang, but there was meant to be a 3rd. 

image

I could hear the mob tramping up the jail stairs. In another moment, they would be at the door of my cell block. They would open the door, walk inside, and all hell would break out. Time was running out for me. Outside the door, the corridor was fast becoming jammed with violent men, ruthless men, black-people-hating white men. The leaders held back until they quieted down. The men carried ropes, shotguns, knives, clubs, swords, and rifles. One of the men held a submachine gun in the cradle of his arm. He acted like he knew how to use it. He was a big, burly, bushy-haired man with cold-looking gray eyes, glassy-looking, like he was high on some kind of a “fix.” It was frightening to look at him.

The men gathered around the door of my cell block  They were the elite group of black intimidators. Their act now was to complete the path of destruction, death, and tyranny. While they were deciding on the kill, I closed my eyes for a moment to will my disappearance. I opened them again when I heard the eerie jangling of keys on the key ring. I was still in the cell block. There was no time to hide. There was no place to hide. Events happened so fast there was not even time to pray.

Read More

(via fyeahcracker)

(Source: thartist72)

thepeoplesrecord:

The voices of many scholars, activists, journalists, political prisoners and academics on the Prison Industrial Complex. 

You can find these photos and others by clicking on our photos on Facebook

Find The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander here for more information about the prison-industrial-complex and today’s greatest fight against racism in America. 

And watch a talk about the fight against the New Jim Crow here

(via roger-sterlings-lsd-trip)

"In American popular culture, black women often appear among white women as magical figures. These modern mammies, like their nineteenth-century counterparts, are capable of solving white women’s personal crises without ever hinting at the depth of their own oppressive circumstances. For example, the modern Mammy made several guest appearances on the wildly popular HBO series Sex and the City. Though living in New York City, the lead characters—four white women—rarely encountered black women. The few African American women written into the script appeared briefly, with little character development, and were often capable of magically comforting the white women and solving their problems. A black woman chauffeur takes Carrie Bradshaw out for a midnight meal after her book party. Her presence immediately soothes Carrie, who has reported in an earlier scene that her ‘‘loneliness is palpable.’’ After Miranda becomes a single mother and has trouble quieting her colicky baby, the Emmy-winning actress Lisa Gay Hamilton shows up as a neighbor, never seen before or after, to assist her. She brings a vibrating chair that immediately quiets the infant, reinforcing the notion that black women instinctively understand child rearing in ways that white women do not. When the first film version of Sex and the City hit theaters in the summer of 2008, Academy Award–winning actress Jennifer Hudson was cast as Carrie’s feisty young assistant. Although her movie role is much more significant than the sister cameos in the series, Hudson’s ‘‘Louise’’ is able to fix her boss’s love life, website, and personal files even though she is two decades younger. These updates of the Mammy caricature are hardly limited to Sex and the City. Contemporary popular culture is replete with black women characters with an instinctive ability to ‘‘help Whites get in touch with their better selves.’’"

Melissa Harris-Perry Sister Citizen; Shame, Stereotypes and Black Women in America (via brashblacknonbeliever)

(Source: womanistgamergirl, via alostbird)


Morse Code
A more practical use of the mag well space on an AR-15 lower. This one has the morse code chart. Many of us will probably never use morse code…unless SHTF.
Source

Morse Code

A more practical use of the mag well space on an AR-15 lower. This one has the morse code chart. Many of us will probably never use morse code…unless SHTF.

Source

(Source: gunrunnerhell)

zellas:

Saw this on Russell Howards Good News. Amused the hell out of me XD

Colt Python

Also chambered in .357 Magnum like the King Cobra, the Python differs slightly in that it has a ventilated rib along the top of the barrel. The number of ventilation slots on the rib tells you barrel length. 3 slots = 6” barrel. For Walking Dead fans, this is the revolver model carried by Rick Grimes.

(Source: gunrunnerhell)

Custom Draco .223

A heavily modified Romanian Draco, which normally is a handgun but this one was converted into an SBR (Short Barrel Rifle). Note the top cover with a rail. That is the Texas Weapon System Dog-Leg Rail. It attaches to the rear sight base and is hinged to open upward. Reviews of the TWS Dog-Leg Rail have been generally positive, and surprisingly it holds zero.

(Source: gunrunnerhell)

Intratec TEC-DC9

A duo-tone model, somewhat rare since majority were sold black/parkerized gray. The barrel on this pistols are threaded to accept silencers, though sometimes they also have a perforated barrel shroud.

(Source: gunrunnerhell)