I will take my stand to watch, and station myself on the tower, and look forth to see what he will say to me, and what I will answer concerning my complaint. And the Lord answered me: "Write the vision; make it plain upon tablets, so he may run who reads it. For still the vision awaits its time; it hastens to the end - it will not lie. If it seem slow, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay. Behold, he whose soul is not upright in him shall fail, but the righteous shall live by his faith."
- Habakkuk 2:1-4
For reasons that are inconsequential at this time, I happened upon the book of Habakkuk from the Old Testament about a week before the event that was billed as the Million Man March. It really struck a chord; I could relate to the prophet Habakkuk and his anger over the prosperity being enjoyed by the wicked, insincere leaders of his day (around 600 BC) at the expense of these leaders' more righteous followers.
My first thought was "That's Louis Farrakhan!" My passages lend an eerie relativity to last weekend's frolicking on The Mall. In fact, verses 7-19 of chapter 2 seem to speak directly to or of Farrakhan himself:
Will not your debtors suddenly arise, and those awake who will make you tremble? Then you will be booty for them. Because you have plundered many nations, all the remnant of the peoples shall plunder you, for the blood of men and violence to the earth, to cities and all who dwell therein. Woe to him who gets evil gain for his house, to set his nest on high, to be safe from the reach of harm! You have devised shame to your house by cutting off many people; you have forfeited your life. For the stone will cry out from the wall, and the beam from the woodwork respond. Woe to him who builds a town with blood, and founds a city on iniquity! Behold, is it not from the Lord of host that people labor only for fire, and nations weary themselves for nought? For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. Woe to him who makes his neighbors drink of the cup of his wrath and makes them drink, to gaze on their shame! You will be sated with contempt instead of glory. Drink, yourself, and stagger! The cup in the Lord's right hand will come around to you, and shame will come upon your glory!
You get the idea.... such a warning, yet so many followed. And why not? They've had no place else to go and it is, indeed, a sad state of affairs in America, as former Virginia governor Doug Wilder said, when the only "leader" your average throng of blacks has to turn to is a venom-spewing con-man who represents every ounce of injustice against which Black America has spent its 130-plus years of freedom railing against. Yes, it's sad that they just couldn't do it on their own; they've had more than 30 years – since Martin Luther King's speech in 1963 to get their shit together, but they couldn't find the mirror until one was held up in front of them.
* * * * *
It's a shame that so many of the participants willingly confirmed the message while condemning the messenger. Well, gang, that does not excuse what each and every attendee contributed to the legitimizing of Louis Farrakhan. Yes, this was definitely his party. And it's continued to be his party, as he has gained further exposure with his "lawsuit;" a joke that would have been comical had it not been so misguided. Think about this: Farrakhan filed a lawsuit against the Washington DC Parks Service for miscounting the number of attendees. The punch line is not difficult to figure out: The good minister has neglected to recall - if, due to the confines of his own private, demented world, he ever knew - that, on a local level, Washington DC is a city managed by blacks, from the mayor's office, down.
Anyhow, it's been a week now since the march took place; and three days since I completed my own lonely march. I waited purposely for three days after Farrakhan's little sit-in to hold my own gathering. This was, of course, as a nod to Christ's rebirth on the Third Day. What with Farrakhan's supposed background, I'm desperately trying to get into the whole religious aspect of the thing. And I figured that the spirit and will and fire which had been sucked out of the bellies of the one group of people who have single-handedly kept the black community from totally disintegrating in the past three decades, might be restored - resurrected, if you will - via my own shindig. I'm speaking, of course, of America's black women. Though they were invited to my march, they didn't show, which made for a lonely walk from the steps of Congress to the Lincoln Memorial. Obviously, unlike Louis, I needed greater name recognition. I wonder what the reaction of the country might be were I to have had David Duke call for all white men to gather on the Mall for mass atonement for all those bad things they've said and done in the past. Who could complain, given what transpired on that same hallowed ground just one week ago?
Right. So, needless to say, I wasn't invited to this affair. I considered crashing the thing, but those guards that Farrakhan surrounded himself with scared the hell out of me. The outbreak of violence would not have been difficult to predict had some mouthy, white reporter from Chicago come strolling into this very private affair. And I wanted no part of that. Despite my own personal reputation for violence, I really don't like it at all. I don't even care to view it on television. But for those who made the trip, I give them credit, as they really had no reason for being there. For the most part, I would guess that those who did show their faces are respectful of their wives, earn a living and teach their kids manners. No, the ones who needed to show are the fourteen-year-olds playing with guns down at Cabrini Green in Chicago.
* * * * *
The question – to what degree will this event impact the present and be remembered in the future? The answer is Barely Any and Even Less. In an age in which news and entertainment have become intermeshed to the point of confusion, it's easy to separate the 1963 march led by Martin Luther King as news, and therefore, history, and the Farrakhan Debacle as one man's own soon to be forgotten PR ploy de jour.
And what will become of the temporarily mainstream Louis Farrakhan? Well, it's damn near a sure bet that his fate lies in the words of the obscure book of Habakkuk, however deep in the magma of the language one must dig to yank, from the darkness into the light of day, the Truth. Yes, that one may be a little difficult for the faint of heart to decipher. However, in an old rock and roll song performed by guitarist Ritchie Blackmore's creation, Rainbow, the fate of Farrakhan is made brutally clear.
During those Rainbow years, the late '70s, Blackmore's singer was a dwarf by the name of Ronnie James Dio who today stands tall as one of the genre's most honest, most prophetic lyricists. Digest the accompanying words of doom and truth from a tune called "Stargazer," and consider for yourself that, indeed, his time has come. Then, in the direct and blinding light of last week's events, read Dio's words again, and find solace in the fact that Louis Farrakhan may one day go the way of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI.
High noon, oh I'd sell my soul for water,
Nine years worth of breaking my back,
There's no sun in the shadow of the wizard,
See how he glides, why he's lighter than air.
Oh I see his face!
Hot wind, moving fast across the desert.
We feel that our time has arrived.
The world spins, while we put his dream together.
A tower of stone to take him straight to the sky.
Oh I see his face!
Where is your star? Is it far, is it far, is it far.
When do we leave? I believe, I believe, I believe.
All eyes see the figure of the wizard,
As he climbs to the top of the world.
No sound, as he falls instead of rising,
Time standing still, then there's blood on the sand.
Oh I see his face!
Where was your star? Was it far, was it far, was it far.
When did we leave? I believed, I believed, I believed.
In the heat and the rain,
With whips and chains,
To see him fly,
So many die.
We built a tower of stone,
With our flesh and bone.
To see him fly,
But we don't know why,
Now, where do we go.
* * * * *
"The righteous rise with burning eyes of hatred and ill-will.
Madmen fed on fear and lies to beat, and burn and kill."
- Anonymous
October 25, 1995
The Million Man March and the Madman Who Led Them to Washington
April 19, 1995
Oklahoma City is not OK.
TELEGRAM – April 19, 1995, 9:30 a.m.
TO: Nort
Johnson, Publisher & Editor, Showcase
Chicago
FR: Mad Bomber
CANCELING WACO. STOP. EXECUTING U-TURN FOR OK CITY PER
NEWS REPORTS. STOP. PHONE ON ARRIVAL / FOUR HOURS. STOP. NEW STORY OR SAME OLD STORY?
STOP. WIRE CASH AGREED TO DOWNTOWN OK CITY W.U. OFFICE. STOP. HERE WE GO AGAIN.
TELEGRAM – April 19, 1995, 2:00 p.m.
I'd been in
Dallas less than a week for a much needed vacation when I received a message
from my publishers to visit Waco (two hours to the south) to "capture the
mood of the place" two years to the date after David Koresh and his ilk
went up in flames.
Usually, a
drive across this huge and open land of ours is reassuring. But not on this
day. Today, it makes me angry. It's strange, on this day, to be moving across
and observing the beauty of a land that has spawned this newly escalated
culture of hate.
February 1, 1995
You want term limits? Get ye to the voting booth!
I appreciated Ellen Goodman's recent Chicago Tribune column (1/31/95) suggesting that every 2, 4 or 6 years, there is more than one way to skin a political cat. Finally, someone other than myself understands the utter uselessness of a "term limits" amendment.
Now and then, a hot new idea creeps into the public’s collective brain; this time, it is term limits. Many people in this country have reacted positively to the prospect of such a law and why not? They know it's a pet project of the resurrected GOP, a group that suddenly finds itself fashionable again (if the party's own press releases and Rush Limbaugh are to be believed) and we Americans are nothing if not fashionable.
There's an ironic twist to the GOP's embracing of a term limits amendment. How strange that the party which calls for "less government" has found yet another way to infiltrate our personal decisions. I guess this is no shock coming from the bunch who can't remember which books go in our kids' hands at which times. (Here's a refresher: According to our Constitution, it's "Dick & Jane" at school, and "Mary & Joseph" at home or at one's place of worship.) Yes, this is the same gaggle of legislators who can't keep their thoughts off pregnant women’s wombs. Admit it: There are few things more frightening than the idea of Newt Gingrich and Jesse Helms meddling in your honey's panties.
Anyhow, these fine Americans, and many others like them, desperately crave term limits, a concept with an insanity quotient rivaled only by this country's fascination with such a proposal. It's a sad commentary on our society when we opt to replace a most democratic method of limiting a politician's time of service with the fascist method known as the "term limit" amendment.
Right! We already have a way of limiting terms!
It's called an election. People around the world would give their right arm for an opportunity to actually vote. But not our country. Most of us can't seem to get off our asses and execute this right given us. Though, offered a choice between democracy and other forms of rule, we wouldn't want it any other way. Or would we?
Incredible as it may seem, this wacky process of elections works. (Just as Dan Rostenkowski.) It can weed out those we feel have been in office too long or it can leave well enough alone those who represent segments of our population who consider themselves well represented in Washington - "career politicians."
Which brings up one last point. "Career Politician" has long been considered an ugly reference. But I suppose there are worse things than someone who says, “Yes, I'm willing to commit my life to this job, though I have nothing to fall back on and my future is in the hands of you, the voter, every couple of years." You think that sounds evil? Trust me, it's much easier to hold such a person accountable than, say, the alternative....the fellow who, knowing he's out after “X” number of terms, realizes there's not a whole lot of time to get anything done, so he just sits back and collects that six-figure income.
You want term limits? You want the government undermining the electoral process? Then go find yourself another country.
"That which deserves to live - lives." - Anonymous
January 30, 1995
Speaker Gingrich Stakes His Claim
After being up all night pondering the fate of Newt Gingrich, our newly appointed Speaker of the House, I took a walk down the alley to catch my barber the minute he unlocked the door.
"Help yourself to coffee – and there are donuts, too."
"No thanks," I muttered, "I've been drinking coffee and Jim Beam for six hours. But I will help myself to...." and I went into the back room of the shop, emerging with two cans of Old Style from Joe's refrigerator, complaining of hunger. I grabbed a Danish and sat in the chair with the morning's Tribune. After perching myself in the chair, I asked for a second opinion.
"That clod Gingrich is sure getting more than he bargained for, eh, Joe?"
"Right you are," he agreed. "How can all these guys keep thinking they're gonna march right in and start changing things that haven't been changed for years?"
A good question, and one with an easy answer: The "perception is reality" mindset. I'm not convinced that Newt himself realized the enormity of the November sweep until he saw his face plastered across every major news magazine the week following the elections. Newt made a lot of promises during those early weeks of the campaign; enough to keep the Pavlovian press plenty busy. And it has seemed to work as he has fulfilled his wish of getting attention for good or ill, starting with his poor, blabbering mother, who was caught off guard by Connie Chung.
I say "poor," yet any good American familiar with Chung should know that this kind of behavior is right up her alley. She's learned well from that sensationalistic goofball she married, and these days, the only smiling face at CBS belongs to Dan Rather, who lost what little credibility remained under his belt the minute Connie plopped her ass in the seat next to his own. It was enough to make ABC thank their lucky stars that they'd had the foresight to take Barbara Walters off the news so many years ago. Suffice it say to that Connie Chung won't see the '96 Election from her current perch. But back to our boy, Newt, who, himself, might be the first to admit that the position of Speaker, and the supposed inherent power, isn't all it's cracked up to be. (Look where it got Tom Foley.) But that's okay, because this man is all about visibility and nothing about achievement, and anyone who can't see that is blind with false hope.
* * * * *
With a fresh haircut, I made a stop to pick up breakfast: A six pack of Little Kings Cream Ale and a bag of pork tacos. Walking home, I glanced at the green bottle in my hand, noticing that the great Schoenling Brewing name had been replaced on the label by some sort of "statement" which referred to the company's recent commitment to helping to save the grizzly bear and the habitat it roams. Ah, yes, Political Correctness. Oh well, the times they are a’ changing; a fact that is not lost on Newt Gingrich. According to CNN's latest report, the good Speaker is doing a little stripe changing himself. It seems as though he's had a complete turnaround from his once proud admonition that he would do everything in his power to cut off funding to the Public Broadcasting System. How many more decrees will Newt back down on in the coming weeks? I'm really not sure, but it'll be entertaining to watch.
One thing that is not interesting to watch these days is the thrill Rush Limpbrain is deriving from this recent stream of right wing hoopla. Granted, I tune him out whenever possible, as does much of the press. But when a few of these same people give him the degree of prominence as was granted him last November in Newsweek's election issue, they only fuel the fire. Now - I know it's only an illustration on the Newsweek cover, but it was more than even I could stand, and what this cute drawing represented should send a chill up anyone's spine. Indeed, there was an artist's rendering of Bill Clinton as Swift's Gulliver being tied down by five Republican Lilliputians: Gingrich, Bob Dole, Al D'Amato, Phil Gramm and Limbaugh. Here's a thought for anyone with the intelligence to listen:
Rush Limbaugh is not an elected official of Congress. He does NOT create legislation..
Sure, he carries a lot of weight with a few thousand folks around this nation. And this does not include the actors he reportedly hires as dummies for his studio audiences and phone-in voices. But thankfully, most of The Large One's followers are seemingly as lazy as he is, not to mention dumb. Which is why, despite their loyalty to a mere television character, these people couldn't find time in their day to outvote the evil Democrats in November; (total national numbers.) Otherwise, we'd have Oliver North sitting on The Hill.
Fortunately for the elephants, the votes in their favor were well-placed. Well, we'll see how well-placed they are come '96, when Bill Clinton will most likely be re-elected, though not necessarily because he deserves it. A sickness which plagued the Democrats for more than a few years will rise up and strike the Republicans. With so many clowns going for the Top Seat, it's difficult to put your party in the White House, and the donkeys suffered for it until '92. In '96, there will be a role reversal with around six or seven challengers from the Right beating themselves up enough to pave the way for Clinton's re-election. As happened with Clinton's teammates, a few losses at the ballot box will eat at the level of greed which keeps one's party off Pennsylvania Avenue. When this happens in Election 2000, watch out - that's when the fun will really start.
