The link previously listed for getting the names of parole board members is dead.
Use this link instead:
http://www.pbpp.state.pa.us/pbpp/site/default.asp
Here are the names:
Catherine C. McVey,
Chairman
Charles Fox
Michael L. Green
Jeffrey R. Imboden
Matthew T. Mangino
Benjamin A. Martinez
Gerard N. Massaro
Judy Viglione
Lloyd A. White
Below is the entire e-mail, (w/updated link) thanks so much!
*===============
*URGENT CALL FOR THE MOVE 9!
Phil Africa says that the MOVE 9 can really use letters and calls to the PA Parole Board this month and next [February & March]. Letters supporting their release can make a big difference. The Board will be having a hearing in April.
After THIRTY years, our brothers and sisters are finally up for parole.
If not given probation this year, they may all be forced to serve another SEVENTY. They have almost completed their minimum sentence [of the 30-100 year sentence]. Let's bring them home where they belong in August 2008!
This April parole hearing is SO important. Letters and calls to the
Parole Board now can really help. Phil is asking that folks send copies
of their letters to him. He wants to take a pile of copies of our
letters to the hearing as a show of public support.
It is probably a good idea for folks to send letters to each of the
nine Board members. The chairperson was appointed by Ed "1985 Bomber"
Rendell so don't count on her getting your message to the whole Board.
Their individual names are on this web page:
http://www.pbpp.state.pa.us/pbpp/site/default.asp
Letters can all be sent to this address:
[name of Board member],
Pennsylvania Board of Probation and Parole,
1101 South Front Street, Suite #5100,
Harrisburg, PA 17104-2517,
tel: (717) 787-5699
Please send copies of the letters to Phil at:
William Phillips Africa #AM-4984,
SCI-Dallas,
1000 Follies Rd.,
Dallas, PA 18612
For supporters to brush up on the history of MOVE and the "MOVE 9," this recent 45-minute talk by Ramona is great:
http://pittsburgh.indymedia.org/news/2007/08/27830.php
Letters and phone calls to the Board are needed NOW. Let's bring 'em
HOME. 30 years is too much already, 70 more is unthinkable.
Peace All! Ona MOVE!!!
Dave
Hans Bennett is a Philadelphia photojournalist mostly focusing on
the movement to free Mumia Abu-Jamal and all political prisoners. An
archive of his work is available at insubordination.blogspot.com and
he is also co-founder of "Journalists for Mumia," created to challenge
the long history of corporate media bias, whose website is:
http://www.Abu-Jamal-News.com
Showing posts with label Police Brutality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Police Brutality. Show all posts
Monday, March 10, 2008
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Check It Out -- New Mumia Abu-Jamal Film
In Prison My Whole Life is a look at the life of imprisoned political journalist and former Black Panther, Mumia Abu-Jamal.
Click on the link below to view the one minute or two minute trailer. Please add your supportive comments to the blog. And circulate this email as widely as possible.
About the film: Mumia Abu-Jamal was arrested the day William Francome was born. William is now 25 years old. Mumia is still on death row. William Francome goes on a journey to find out about the man who has been in prison William’s whole life. The film is showing at the Sundance Film Festival.
Mumia’s case is currently before the US Court of Appeals and a decision on whether or not he will receive a new and fair trial is due any day.
http://www.myspace.com/inprisonmywholelife
For info about journalists in support of Mumia and an excellent article that was featured in the British Guardian, please go to www.globalwomenstrike.net Global Women's Strike philly@crossroadswomen.net 215-848-1120
========================
These are two new articles about IN PRISON MY WHOLE LIFE, which is featured at this week's Sundance Film Festival
Another take on Mumia
Sundance screens a film by one obsessed with Abu-Jamal.
By Sam Adams
For The Inquirer
PARK CITY, Utah - When the lights come up after a film's premiere at the Sundance Film Festival, the stage usually fills with directors and producers, actors and crew, all basking in the audience's applause. But after Sunday's screening of In Prison My Whole Life, director Marc Evans apologized for the absence of the movie's "star": Mumia Abu-Jamal, on Pennsylvania's death row for the 1981 killing of Police Officer Daniel Faulkner. Abu-Jamal is unquestionably the subject of the documentary, but as far as on-screen time goes, he plays a supporting role to 26-year-old William Francome, the "my" of the movie's title.
Francome said he was born on Dec. 9, 1981, the day that Abu-Jamal was arrested for Faulkner's murder. In Prison uses that coincidence to underscore the length of time Abu-Jamal has spent behind bars, most of it on death row - a circumstance the movie condemns as inhumane and unjust.
Francome appears as a cross between a crusading journalist, tracking down evidence to contradict the prosecution's case, and a wide-eyed student avidly pursuing the history of American racism.
The result is largely a recap of arguments for Abu-Jamal's retrial or exoneration and a broad overview of the history of American dissent.
Held together by Francome's narration, the movie oscillates between arguing the injustice of Jamal's case and charting Francome's education in the ugly side of American history.
Through interviews with the likes of Angela Davis and Noam Chomsky, In Prison attempts to place Abu-Jamal's case within a larger social context. The 1985 MOVE bombing and the 1987 videotape in which a Philadelphia prosecutor instructs young colleagues on how to keep African Americans off juries are part of the film's background. So are the FBI's Cointelpro program and Hurricane Katrina.
"I think it's part of a narrative," Francome says. "We could have made a film that was just purely about the case and looked into every single detail, but we've got 90 minutes to tell a story, and at the same time we're trying to make an entertaining film. I think we're making valid connections between certain issues."
Although the Sundance screening was not met with the rapturous whoops and standing ovations that greet the festival's instant hits, it was clear that at least some in the audience had no difficulty connecting Jamal's case and larger issues of racism, the death penalty and government corruption.
Sundance's audiences are well-known for their liberal bent, and its documentary programming tends to favor issue-oriented films. During the post-screening Q and A, one questioner asked if Abu-Jamal's bid for a new trial, currently awaiting a ruling from the U.S. Third Circuit Court of Appeals, would be rejected because "the consequences might be too huge to allow that to happen."
The British-born Francome, son of a British father and an American mother, describes his mother as a product of the '60s counterculture, and says she reminded him that each birthday he celebrated meant Abu-Jamal had spent another year in jail. But it wasn't until he was a teenager and heard Rage Against the Machine take up Abu-Jamal's cause that Francome connected the dots. "It was like, 'Hey, that's that Mumia guy mum's always talking about,' " he recalls in the film.
In his 20s, Francome began writing treatments for a film about the case. Through his girlfriend's godmother, he met Livia Firth, wife of actor Colin Firth, and Colin offered to produce the film and introduced him to Evans, an established feature and documentary director.
Firth also got in touch with Amnesty International's Piers Bannister, who had written a 35-page report condemning Abu-Jamal's 1982 trial as failing to meet "minimum international standards." Bannister, who appeared at the Sundance screening, shared his research with the filmmakers, and Amnesty vetted the film after it was completed.
"When we finished, we came back and said, 'This is the film. Tell us if we did a good job,' " Firth says. "They tore the film to pieces. They analyzed every single word." In addition to fact-checking the film, Amnesty suggested changes in the wording of Francome's narration to better represent its stance on the case and related issues such as the death penalty. The result, Firth proudly says, is the first film endorsed by Amnesty's secretariat. In Prison opens with Amnesty's logo, which is followed immediately by the logo for Myspace, which helped finance the film. "Those two badges kind of reflect who the film is for," Evans says.
The question of the film's potential audience, Evans says, greatly influenced its form. Rather than evaluate every claim pro and con, In Prison is pitched at an introductory level.
"The bit of filmmaking I dislike the most is you have to say, 'Here's the film, now who's the audience?' " Evans says. "Is it for a very well-versed insider? Perhaps this isn't the film for them at the end of the day. I don't think the audience the film really appeals to are people who are necessarily politically clued in and have read a lot about their civil rights history. It's a series of inquiries and conversations by a 25-year-old, starting with a teenage obsession."
Crisscrossing the country, Francome pounds the streets looking for the truth of what happened on the night he was born. He talks to the authors of several books critical of Abu-Jamal's trial. He meets with photographer Pedro Polakoff, whose photos of the crime scene seem to show a police officer handling Faulkner's and Abu-Jamal's guns with his bare hands. And he interviews William Cook, Abu-Jamal's brother, who says that Faulkner addressed him with a racial slur and began beating him, unprovoked, in the moments before the shooting. Cook does not, however, discuss what happened next, and says he will do so only in a court of law.
Conspicuous by their absence are Faulkner's supporters, or any evidence that might weaken the movie's claims, like the fact that Cook was convicted of assaulting Faulkner. The sole argument in favor of Abu-Jamal's conviction is made by prosecutor Joseph McGill, who appears in excerpts from the 1996 documentary Mumia Abu-Jamal: A Case for Reasonable Doubt? (When citing the film, In Prison omits the question mark.) Francome says attempts were made to contact McGill, representatives from the Fraternal Order of Police, and, through the FOP, Faulkner's widow, Maureen, and no responses were received. But Evans also says that they pursued advocates for Abu-Jamal's incarceration and execution only "up to a point."
"We're making a film that starts from a particular point of view, with a particular interest," Evans says. "To me, the proper way to proceed is to invite people to the table, and respond when people come to the table. Not to go, 'The film I'm making is so responsible for the truth.' It's not a journalistic film in that sense."
The film contains a handful of factual errors which, while evidently below the radar of Amnesty's fact-checkers, could damage its credibility with Philadelphia audiences. City Council president Anna Verna is referred to as "Ann," and the neighborhood of Powelton Village is referred to as "a suburb of Philadelphia."
Evans knows that Abu-Jamal's case raises heated emotions in the city, and that the battle between "Free Mumia" and "Fry Mumia" factions leads many to tune out the case altogether. That, he says, only heightened his curiosity.
"For us, coming in from the outside, the fact that people are so fed up with hearing about it, the fact that it gets people so riled up, that in itself is interesting. The fact that this guy can raise so much hatred or so much empathy . . . I find that absolutely fascinating."
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/livia-giuggioli/obama-in-context_b_83275.htmlObama in Context, Huffington Post
by Livia Giuggioli
My husband Colin and I have ongoing discussions on who we would support for this presidential campaign. Obama, Clinton, Edwards -- I tend to go for Obama but yesterday, while having lunch with friends here in Sundance, an African American studio executive said that should Obama be elected, he fears there would be several attempts to assassinate him simply because he is black. This sent an icy shock through me.
Walking through the crisp white snow at the Sundance Film Festival to a screening of our documentary In Prison My Whole Life, I started to wonder whether the optimism that we had felt in making the film had been misplaced. The movie centers around the case of Mumia Abu Jamal, a vociferous and radical black journalist who, after 25 years in prison, has become America's most famous Death Row inmate. Despite the injustices surrounding Mumia's case and some of the dark historical events that the film portrays, it is doggedly optimistic in approach. Mumia's continued articulate commentary as a radio journalist, broadcasting from his cell by means of typewriter and telephone, had inspired us. His voice is heroic and connects to a tradition of dissenting black voices which have always found a place in America. With our films' Sundance screening coinciding with Martin Luther King Jr. Day, this surviving continuity seemed even more poignantly alive.
Producing In Prison my Whole life is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. People have asked me many times what shocked me most while making the film and my answer is always the same: how much I fell in love with America all over again. There is a general perception in Europe that "America" is "Bush". So when we left for the States to film and found ourselves listening to people like Noam Chomsky, Alice Walker, Angela Davis, Russell Simmons, Howard Zinn, Snoop Dogg, Mos Def (I could go on for hours, we met the most amazing people!) it reminded me what a wonderful country America is and what a powerful counter culture still exists.
This is the country which fought many of the biggest civil rights battles, and our film endeavors to ask what is the nature of dissent in America today.
I recently read an interview with the fantastic writer David Grossman who said, "One of the great questions that people living in this age must relentlessly ask themselves is: in what state, at which moment, do I become part of the faceless crowd, "the masses"?"
If you think about it -- this question IS the most fundamental one and I guess this is why I/we found ourselves doing this movie. Among the questions "In Prison My Whole Life" raises are: Is racism in America still endemic? What did we learn from Katrina? What is the state of the American judicial system? Was it unbiased in Philadelphia in 1982 when Mumia was on trial? Was it unbiased in the election of 2000? We must never stop asking questions. Documentary filmmakers have the opportunity to engage in the great debate, to resurrect -- if one can use that word - the urge to dissent, to ask questions again, to fight for change and to fight the blindness and ignorance of racism and injustice that still exists not only in this country but all over the world.
Click on the link below to view the one minute or two minute trailer. Please add your supportive comments to the blog. And circulate this email as widely as possible.
About the film: Mumia Abu-Jamal was arrested the day William Francome was born. William is now 25 years old. Mumia is still on death row. William Francome goes on a journey to find out about the man who has been in prison William’s whole life. The film is showing at the Sundance Film Festival.
Mumia’s case is currently before the US Court of Appeals and a decision on whether or not he will receive a new and fair trial is due any day.
http://www.myspace.com/inprisonmywholelife
For info about journalists in support of Mumia and an excellent article that was featured in the British Guardian, please go to www.globalwomenstrike.net Global Women's Strike philly@crossroadswomen.net 215-848-1120
========================
These are two new articles about IN PRISON MY WHOLE LIFE, which is featured at this week's Sundance Film Festival
Another take on Mumia
Sundance screens a film by one obsessed with Abu-Jamal.
By Sam Adams
For The Inquirer
PARK CITY, Utah - When the lights come up after a film's premiere at the Sundance Film Festival, the stage usually fills with directors and producers, actors and crew, all basking in the audience's applause. But after Sunday's screening of In Prison My Whole Life, director Marc Evans apologized for the absence of the movie's "star": Mumia Abu-Jamal, on Pennsylvania's death row for the 1981 killing of Police Officer Daniel Faulkner. Abu-Jamal is unquestionably the subject of the documentary, but as far as on-screen time goes, he plays a supporting role to 26-year-old William Francome, the "my" of the movie's title.
Francome said he was born on Dec. 9, 1981, the day that Abu-Jamal was arrested for Faulkner's murder. In Prison uses that coincidence to underscore the length of time Abu-Jamal has spent behind bars, most of it on death row - a circumstance the movie condemns as inhumane and unjust.
Francome appears as a cross between a crusading journalist, tracking down evidence to contradict the prosecution's case, and a wide-eyed student avidly pursuing the history of American racism.
The result is largely a recap of arguments for Abu-Jamal's retrial or exoneration and a broad overview of the history of American dissent.
Held together by Francome's narration, the movie oscillates between arguing the injustice of Jamal's case and charting Francome's education in the ugly side of American history.
Through interviews with the likes of Angela Davis and Noam Chomsky, In Prison attempts to place Abu-Jamal's case within a larger social context. The 1985 MOVE bombing and the 1987 videotape in which a Philadelphia prosecutor instructs young colleagues on how to keep African Americans off juries are part of the film's background. So are the FBI's Cointelpro program and Hurricane Katrina.
"I think it's part of a narrative," Francome says. "We could have made a film that was just purely about the case and looked into every single detail, but we've got 90 minutes to tell a story, and at the same time we're trying to make an entertaining film. I think we're making valid connections between certain issues."
Although the Sundance screening was not met with the rapturous whoops and standing ovations that greet the festival's instant hits, it was clear that at least some in the audience had no difficulty connecting Jamal's case and larger issues of racism, the death penalty and government corruption.
Sundance's audiences are well-known for their liberal bent, and its documentary programming tends to favor issue-oriented films. During the post-screening Q and A, one questioner asked if Abu-Jamal's bid for a new trial, currently awaiting a ruling from the U.S. Third Circuit Court of Appeals, would be rejected because "the consequences might be too huge to allow that to happen."
The British-born Francome, son of a British father and an American mother, describes his mother as a product of the '60s counterculture, and says she reminded him that each birthday he celebrated meant Abu-Jamal had spent another year in jail. But it wasn't until he was a teenager and heard Rage Against the Machine take up Abu-Jamal's cause that Francome connected the dots. "It was like, 'Hey, that's that Mumia guy mum's always talking about,' " he recalls in the film.
In his 20s, Francome began writing treatments for a film about the case. Through his girlfriend's godmother, he met Livia Firth, wife of actor Colin Firth, and Colin offered to produce the film and introduced him to Evans, an established feature and documentary director.
Firth also got in touch with Amnesty International's Piers Bannister, who had written a 35-page report condemning Abu-Jamal's 1982 trial as failing to meet "minimum international standards." Bannister, who appeared at the Sundance screening, shared his research with the filmmakers, and Amnesty vetted the film after it was completed.
"When we finished, we came back and said, 'This is the film. Tell us if we did a good job,' " Firth says. "They tore the film to pieces. They analyzed every single word." In addition to fact-checking the film, Amnesty suggested changes in the wording of Francome's narration to better represent its stance on the case and related issues such as the death penalty. The result, Firth proudly says, is the first film endorsed by Amnesty's secretariat. In Prison opens with Amnesty's logo, which is followed immediately by the logo for Myspace, which helped finance the film. "Those two badges kind of reflect who the film is for," Evans says.
The question of the film's potential audience, Evans says, greatly influenced its form. Rather than evaluate every claim pro and con, In Prison is pitched at an introductory level.
"The bit of filmmaking I dislike the most is you have to say, 'Here's the film, now who's the audience?' " Evans says. "Is it for a very well-versed insider? Perhaps this isn't the film for them at the end of the day. I don't think the audience the film really appeals to are people who are necessarily politically clued in and have read a lot about their civil rights history. It's a series of inquiries and conversations by a 25-year-old, starting with a teenage obsession."
Crisscrossing the country, Francome pounds the streets looking for the truth of what happened on the night he was born. He talks to the authors of several books critical of Abu-Jamal's trial. He meets with photographer Pedro Polakoff, whose photos of the crime scene seem to show a police officer handling Faulkner's and Abu-Jamal's guns with his bare hands. And he interviews William Cook, Abu-Jamal's brother, who says that Faulkner addressed him with a racial slur and began beating him, unprovoked, in the moments before the shooting. Cook does not, however, discuss what happened next, and says he will do so only in a court of law.
Conspicuous by their absence are Faulkner's supporters, or any evidence that might weaken the movie's claims, like the fact that Cook was convicted of assaulting Faulkner. The sole argument in favor of Abu-Jamal's conviction is made by prosecutor Joseph McGill, who appears in excerpts from the 1996 documentary Mumia Abu-Jamal: A Case for Reasonable Doubt? (When citing the film, In Prison omits the question mark.) Francome says attempts were made to contact McGill, representatives from the Fraternal Order of Police, and, through the FOP, Faulkner's widow, Maureen, and no responses were received. But Evans also says that they pursued advocates for Abu-Jamal's incarceration and execution only "up to a point."
"We're making a film that starts from a particular point of view, with a particular interest," Evans says. "To me, the proper way to proceed is to invite people to the table, and respond when people come to the table. Not to go, 'The film I'm making is so responsible for the truth.' It's not a journalistic film in that sense."
The film contains a handful of factual errors which, while evidently below the radar of Amnesty's fact-checkers, could damage its credibility with Philadelphia audiences. City Council president Anna Verna is referred to as "Ann," and the neighborhood of Powelton Village is referred to as "a suburb of Philadelphia."
Evans knows that Abu-Jamal's case raises heated emotions in the city, and that the battle between "Free Mumia" and "Fry Mumia" factions leads many to tune out the case altogether. That, he says, only heightened his curiosity.
"For us, coming in from the outside, the fact that people are so fed up with hearing about it, the fact that it gets people so riled up, that in itself is interesting. The fact that this guy can raise so much hatred or so much empathy . . . I find that absolutely fascinating."
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/livia-giuggioli/obama-in-context_b_83275.htmlObama in Context, Huffington Post
by Livia Giuggioli
My husband Colin and I have ongoing discussions on who we would support for this presidential campaign. Obama, Clinton, Edwards -- I tend to go for Obama but yesterday, while having lunch with friends here in Sundance, an African American studio executive said that should Obama be elected, he fears there would be several attempts to assassinate him simply because he is black. This sent an icy shock through me.
Walking through the crisp white snow at the Sundance Film Festival to a screening of our documentary In Prison My Whole Life, I started to wonder whether the optimism that we had felt in making the film had been misplaced. The movie centers around the case of Mumia Abu Jamal, a vociferous and radical black journalist who, after 25 years in prison, has become America's most famous Death Row inmate. Despite the injustices surrounding Mumia's case and some of the dark historical events that the film portrays, it is doggedly optimistic in approach. Mumia's continued articulate commentary as a radio journalist, broadcasting from his cell by means of typewriter and telephone, had inspired us. His voice is heroic and connects to a tradition of dissenting black voices which have always found a place in America. With our films' Sundance screening coinciding with Martin Luther King Jr. Day, this surviving continuity seemed even more poignantly alive.
Producing In Prison my Whole life is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. People have asked me many times what shocked me most while making the film and my answer is always the same: how much I fell in love with America all over again. There is a general perception in Europe that "America" is "Bush". So when we left for the States to film and found ourselves listening to people like Noam Chomsky, Alice Walker, Angela Davis, Russell Simmons, Howard Zinn, Snoop Dogg, Mos Def (I could go on for hours, we met the most amazing people!) it reminded me what a wonderful country America is and what a powerful counter culture still exists.
This is the country which fought many of the biggest civil rights battles, and our film endeavors to ask what is the nature of dissent in America today.
I recently read an interview with the fantastic writer David Grossman who said, "One of the great questions that people living in this age must relentlessly ask themselves is: in what state, at which moment, do I become part of the faceless crowd, "the masses"?"
If you think about it -- this question IS the most fundamental one and I guess this is why I/we found ourselves doing this movie. Among the questions "In Prison My Whole Life" raises are: Is racism in America still endemic? What did we learn from Katrina? What is the state of the American judicial system? Was it unbiased in Philadelphia in 1982 when Mumia was on trial? Was it unbiased in the election of 2000? We must never stop asking questions. Documentary filmmakers have the opportunity to engage in the great debate, to resurrect -- if one can use that word - the urge to dissent, to ask questions again, to fight for change and to fight the blindness and ignorance of racism and injustice that still exists not only in this country but all over the world.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Taking Real Action Against Police Brutality
To stop police brutality, we have to kill the roots. Pigs are wildin’ out on our youth and we’re doing nothing about it. Oh yeah, Rev. Al Sharpton comes to town to lead marches. In addition, we hear many good speeches and some good music. In between all the entertainment, we hear the chants of “No Justice, No Peace”. Okay, now we’re dealt injustice after injustice with no end in sight as the [In]Justice department sits stagnant, when do we resort to actions of no peace?
Marches and protests outside of city hall and police headquarters have no effect at all. Prosecutors and civilian review boards and countless lawsuits have not worked either.
What’s to stop the boys in blue from doing us harm if they’re not held accountable? What’s there to stop the rampant abuse and murder if all these officers get is slaps on their wrist?
Who protects us when their system of “due process” and law fails? If whitey refuses to enforce the law in a fair and just manner, is it not our responsibility to protect ourselves?
It’s time Black people use a more radical approach. If we are to survive, then we must defend ourselves in the Name of Allah (God). Otherwise, we’re just propagating another field of victims for state repression at the hands of police. State repression must be resisted and destroyed.
Police are killing our youth, some as young as 12 years old. At the rate we’re going, they’ll be killing our six and seven year olds. What’s to stop cops from gunning down our infants and toddlers? In Pittsburgh, Pamela Lawton’s seven-year old daughter had a gun put in her face, with the officer threatening to kill her child. In the aftermath, Pamela Lawton was charged with disorderly conduct when she called out for help because of the pig threatening to blow her daughter’s head off.
It’s time we stand up and put an end to police repression and murder. Our children is our future and its time we start protecting them like a lioness protecting her cubs, even if it means killing police in the process. Self-defense is not murder; it’s a God-given right and it’s time we start exercising that right!
It’s time we start being victims and start fighting back. It’s time we respond in the language of our open enemies. It’s time we stop riding on each other over infinitesimal bullshit like drugs, turf, gang affiliation, “wrong” looks, and pussy. We must embrace a greater cause for the survival of our people. We must stop sitting around, waiting for the next Black leader to step up and guide us because we are that leader. We’ve had enough leaders and teachers.
Black people must look to the leader within. Our greats like Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Marcus Garvey and the most Honorable Elijah Muhammad (The Messenger of Allah) have all served their purpose. In addition, the Messenger left behind for a blueprint to follow. Now the choice is ours. We must take a bolder stance. The future of our people, our race depends upon it.
-This is your Brother, Aquil Aziz
Marches and protests outside of city hall and police headquarters have no effect at all. Prosecutors and civilian review boards and countless lawsuits have not worked either.
What’s to stop the boys in blue from doing us harm if they’re not held accountable? What’s there to stop the rampant abuse and murder if all these officers get is slaps on their wrist?
Who protects us when their system of “due process” and law fails? If whitey refuses to enforce the law in a fair and just manner, is it not our responsibility to protect ourselves?
It’s time Black people use a more radical approach. If we are to survive, then we must defend ourselves in the Name of Allah (God). Otherwise, we’re just propagating another field of victims for state repression at the hands of police. State repression must be resisted and destroyed.
Police are killing our youth, some as young as 12 years old. At the rate we’re going, they’ll be killing our six and seven year olds. What’s to stop cops from gunning down our infants and toddlers? In Pittsburgh, Pamela Lawton’s seven-year old daughter had a gun put in her face, with the officer threatening to kill her child. In the aftermath, Pamela Lawton was charged with disorderly conduct when she called out for help because of the pig threatening to blow her daughter’s head off.
It’s time we stand up and put an end to police repression and murder. Our children is our future and its time we start protecting them like a lioness protecting her cubs, even if it means killing police in the process. Self-defense is not murder; it’s a God-given right and it’s time we start exercising that right!
It’s time we start being victims and start fighting back. It’s time we respond in the language of our open enemies. It’s time we stop riding on each other over infinitesimal bullshit like drugs, turf, gang affiliation, “wrong” looks, and pussy. We must embrace a greater cause for the survival of our people. We must stop sitting around, waiting for the next Black leader to step up and guide us because we are that leader. We’ve had enough leaders and teachers.
Black people must look to the leader within. Our greats like Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Marcus Garvey and the most Honorable Elijah Muhammad (The Messenger of Allah) have all served their purpose. In addition, the Messenger left behind for a blueprint to follow. Now the choice is ours. We must take a bolder stance. The future of our people, our race depends upon it.
-This is your Brother, Aquil Aziz
Thursday, January 24, 2008
America's Martin & Martin's America by Mumia Abu-Jamal
America's Martin & Martin's America
[col. writ. 1/11/08] (c) '08 Mumia Abu-Jamal
As millions of people ready themselves for a (hopefully) paid holiday in remembrance of assassinated civil rights leader, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., we are forced to come to grips with who the man was, rather than who he has been projected to be.
In the words of noted historian (and once King's close confidant) Vincent Harding, America has largely chosen the path of amnesia rather than true remembrance of the man. Prof. Harding wrote, in his 1998 book, Martin Luther King: The Inconvenient Hero (Orbis Books):
It appears as if the price for the first nationalist holiday honoring a black man is
the development of a massive case of national amnesia concerning who that
black man really was. At both personal and collective levels, of course, it is often
the case that amnesia is not ultimately harmful to the patient. However, in this case
it is very dangerous, for the things we have chosen to forget about King (and about
ourselves) constitute some of the most hopeful possibilities and resources for our
magnificent and very needy nation. Indeed, I would suggest that we Americans have
chosen amnesia rather than continue King's painful, uncharted, and often
disruptive struggle toward a more perfect union. I would also suggest that those
of us who are historians and citizens have a special responsibility to challenge the
loss of memory, in ourselves and others, to allow our skills in probing the past to
become resources for healing and for hope. In other words, [if] Martin King cannot
challenge those who make him a harmless black icon, then we surely can raise
such a challenge -- assuming that we are still alive. {p.60}
What distinguishes the life and work of King towards his latter days, was his dedication to Black poor folks, a group that seems to be all but forgotten in the years since his passing.
While today's America seems to be on the brink of electing a Black person (or at least possibly nominating one), the plight of the Black poor could hardly be more perilous.
For it is on them that the twin weights of poverty and state repression are dropped, with little relief from a civil rights leadership which occasionally seems overwhelmed with the threats and conflicts facing those of better means and resources.
Indeed, much of that leadership is, as was Dr. King himself, quite highly educated, and seeking entree into the highest levels of state and corporate power; levels virtually impenetrable to millions of Black poor folks.
For them is reserved: the worst of public education the worst housing; brutal treatment by cops; ignored by political leaders (at least until election time rolls around), highest rates of joblessness; the highest incarceration rates -- we know this list can go on and on.
King Day may be remembered, but the man behind the name is fast disappearing.
It is virtually forgotten that he sacrificed his life on behalf of striking garbage men, Black workers who wanted a decent wage to be sure, but also wanted simple, human dignity.
In 1967, one year before his assassination, a perceptive journalist, the late David Halberstam wrote, in Harper's magazine his impressions:
"King has decided to represent the ghettos, he will work in them and speak for them. But their voice is harsh and alienated. If King is to speak for them truly, then his voice must reflect theirs; it, too, must be alienated, and it is likely to be increasingly at odds with American society." [Harding, 62]
America establishes a holiday, and promptly forgets what he lived for.
--(c) '08 maj
[col. writ. 1/11/08] (c) '08 Mumia Abu-Jamal
As millions of people ready themselves for a (hopefully) paid holiday in remembrance of assassinated civil rights leader, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., we are forced to come to grips with who the man was, rather than who he has been projected to be.
In the words of noted historian (and once King's close confidant) Vincent Harding, America has largely chosen the path of amnesia rather than true remembrance of the man. Prof. Harding wrote, in his 1998 book, Martin Luther King: The Inconvenient Hero (Orbis Books):
It appears as if the price for the first nationalist holiday honoring a black man is
the development of a massive case of national amnesia concerning who that
black man really was. At both personal and collective levels, of course, it is often
the case that amnesia is not ultimately harmful to the patient. However, in this case
it is very dangerous, for the things we have chosen to forget about King (and about
ourselves) constitute some of the most hopeful possibilities and resources for our
magnificent and very needy nation. Indeed, I would suggest that we Americans have
chosen amnesia rather than continue King's painful, uncharted, and often
disruptive struggle toward a more perfect union. I would also suggest that those
of us who are historians and citizens have a special responsibility to challenge the
loss of memory, in ourselves and others, to allow our skills in probing the past to
become resources for healing and for hope. In other words, [if] Martin King cannot
challenge those who make him a harmless black icon, then we surely can raise
such a challenge -- assuming that we are still alive. {p.60}
What distinguishes the life and work of King towards his latter days, was his dedication to Black poor folks, a group that seems to be all but forgotten in the years since his passing.
While today's America seems to be on the brink of electing a Black person (or at least possibly nominating one), the plight of the Black poor could hardly be more perilous.
For it is on them that the twin weights of poverty and state repression are dropped, with little relief from a civil rights leadership which occasionally seems overwhelmed with the threats and conflicts facing those of better means and resources.
Indeed, much of that leadership is, as was Dr. King himself, quite highly educated, and seeking entree into the highest levels of state and corporate power; levels virtually impenetrable to millions of Black poor folks.
For them is reserved: the worst of public education the worst housing; brutal treatment by cops; ignored by political leaders (at least until election time rolls around), highest rates of joblessness; the highest incarceration rates -- we know this list can go on and on.
King Day may be remembered, but the man behind the name is fast disappearing.
It is virtually forgotten that he sacrificed his life on behalf of striking garbage men, Black workers who wanted a decent wage to be sure, but also wanted simple, human dignity.
In 1967, one year before his assassination, a perceptive journalist, the late David Halberstam wrote, in Harper's magazine his impressions:
"King has decided to represent the ghettos, he will work in them and speak for them. But their voice is harsh and alienated. If King is to speak for them truly, then his voice must reflect theirs; it, too, must be alienated, and it is likely to be increasingly at odds with American society." [Harding, 62]
America establishes a holiday, and promptly forgets what he lived for.
--(c) '08 maj
Friday, July 20, 2007
The Beating of Black Lawyers by Mumia Abu-Jamal
The Beating of Black Lawyers by Mumia Abu Jamal
1) 2:24 Short Radio Essay Mp3prisonradio.org/audio/mum...rrensA.mp3
2) 2:46 Long Radio Essay Mp3prisonradio.org/audio/mum...rrensB.mp3
The Beating of Black Lawyers
[col. writ. 7/5/07] (c) '07 Mumia Abu-Jamal
No matter who we are, or where we live, folks in Black America have grown up with the lesson of the importance of education as a tool of social mobility.
That's why lawyers are generally so highly regarded in many Black communities, as people who have undergone years of legal education.
But that respect doesn't go far beyond the community. Cops in Brooklyn, New York recently showed what they thought of lawyers by beating them up! Well-known human rights attorney Michael Tarif Warren, and his wife, Evelyn (also a lawyer), were driving down Brooklyn's Vanderbilt Avenue, when they spotted a Black youth being chased by cops across a McDonald's parking lot.
The youngster was tackled to the ground and handcuffed, when the Warrens saw a Sgt. Talvy begin kicking him in the head, the ribs, and stomping on his neck.
The 2 attorneys stopped their car, walked within 10 feet of the beating, identified themselves (as lawyers), and told the cops to stop beating the youth, and simply take him to the nearest precinct.
The Sergeant's response was to shout, "I don't give a f**k who you are, get the f**k back in your car!" The Warrens returned to the car, where Michael began to write down notes of what he saw, and the license plate numbers of the cop cars present.
Before he could finish his notes Sgt, Talvy walks up to the car, and began to repeatedly punch him through the window, shouting "Get out of the car!"
Warren was then dragged out of his car, his clothes ripped in the process. His wife, obviously upset at these events, demanded to know why he was attacked, and was promptly punched in the face by this same cop! Both Warrens were arrested and driven to the 77th precinct and charged with obstruction, disorderly conduct, and resisting arrest. Within hours hundreds of Brooklynites converged on the precinct, demanding the release of the Warrens. People came from all walks of life, for Tarif has a long history, almost 30 years, of representing people who have been victims of police or prosecutorial misconduct in the city. Groups like the December 12th Movement, Malcolm X Grassroots Movement, the International Action Center, and many others quickly mobilized support for the Warrens.
In an interview in the New York Daily Challenge, Evelyn Warren spoke for many people when she said, "We are professionals, if they do this to us in broad daylight on a crowded street, what do they do in the dark when no one is around? That's what I'm concerned about." She and others called not only for the removal of Talvy, but of Police Commissioner Raymond Kelly as well. When Black lawyers are beaten in the streets, what about average folks? What about you?
(c) '07 maj
[Sourcce: Ajamu, Amadi, "Civil Rights Attorney Assaulted", Daily Challenge (N.Y.), Mon., June 25, 2007, p.3.}
1) 2:24 Short Radio Essay Mp3prisonradio.org/audio/mum...rrensA.mp3
2) 2:46 Long Radio Essay Mp3prisonradio.org/audio/mum...rrensB.mp3
The Beating of Black Lawyers
[col. writ. 7/5/07] (c) '07 Mumia Abu-Jamal
No matter who we are, or where we live, folks in Black America have grown up with the lesson of the importance of education as a tool of social mobility.
That's why lawyers are generally so highly regarded in many Black communities, as people who have undergone years of legal education.
But that respect doesn't go far beyond the community. Cops in Brooklyn, New York recently showed what they thought of lawyers by beating them up! Well-known human rights attorney Michael Tarif Warren, and his wife, Evelyn (also a lawyer), were driving down Brooklyn's Vanderbilt Avenue, when they spotted a Black youth being chased by cops across a McDonald's parking lot.
The youngster was tackled to the ground and handcuffed, when the Warrens saw a Sgt. Talvy begin kicking him in the head, the ribs, and stomping on his neck.
The 2 attorneys stopped their car, walked within 10 feet of the beating, identified themselves (as lawyers), and told the cops to stop beating the youth, and simply take him to the nearest precinct.
The Sergeant's response was to shout, "I don't give a f**k who you are, get the f**k back in your car!" The Warrens returned to the car, where Michael began to write down notes of what he saw, and the license plate numbers of the cop cars present.
Before he could finish his notes Sgt, Talvy walks up to the car, and began to repeatedly punch him through the window, shouting "Get out of the car!"
Warren was then dragged out of his car, his clothes ripped in the process. His wife, obviously upset at these events, demanded to know why he was attacked, and was promptly punched in the face by this same cop! Both Warrens were arrested and driven to the 77th precinct and charged with obstruction, disorderly conduct, and resisting arrest. Within hours hundreds of Brooklynites converged on the precinct, demanding the release of the Warrens. People came from all walks of life, for Tarif has a long history, almost 30 years, of representing people who have been victims of police or prosecutorial misconduct in the city. Groups like the December 12th Movement, Malcolm X Grassroots Movement, the International Action Center, and many others quickly mobilized support for the Warrens.
In an interview in the New York Daily Challenge, Evelyn Warren spoke for many people when she said, "We are professionals, if they do this to us in broad daylight on a crowded street, what do they do in the dark when no one is around? That's what I'm concerned about." She and others called not only for the removal of Talvy, but of Police Commissioner Raymond Kelly as well. When Black lawyers are beaten in the streets, what about average folks? What about you?
(c) '07 maj
[Sourcce: Ajamu, Amadi, "Civil Rights Attorney Assaulted", Daily Challenge (N.Y.), Mon., June 25, 2007, p.3.}
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