Don’t you dare criticize Barack Obama—after all he’s ‘black’

“I’m for truth, no matter who tells it. I’m for justice, no matter who it’s for or against. I’m a human being first and foremost, and as such I am for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole.”—Malcolm X [el-Hajj Malik el-Shabazz]

“What better way to enslave a man than to give him the vote and tell him he’s free.”—Albert Camus

The very fact that those who lodge legitimate and strong criticism of drone man, ‘kill list,’ NSA/CIA/FBI/DEA spy master Barack Obama are labeled as being racist is, in itself, perhaps the strongest indicator of just how deeply embedded hypocrisy and racism continue to be in U.S. society.

Somehow the U.S. constitutional rights to free speech and the free flow of information, etc., allegedly enjoyed by the struggling everyday ordinary Black, White, Brown, Red, and Yellow people in this nation, have been made null and void, because a colored, partially black man, is in the White House as chief executive and commander-in-chief of the U.S. armed forces. The reality of this psychological and political enslavement and repression is in fact hypocrisy and so-called political correctness on steroids.

The pathetic and subservient U.S. corporate-stream media (including MSNBC, FOX, CBS, PBS, NBC, and ABC, etc.), along with the corporate-owned politicians of the Democrat and Republican parties are deliberately stifling free speech and the open and honest free flow of information and informed debate by covertly and/or overtly playing the color card against the common interests of the everyday people of this nation. Make no mistake about it—they are in fact reinforcing hypocrisy and racism.

Much of the ‘leadership’ of so-called ‘liberals, conservatives, progressives, and leftists’ are also deeply complicit in perpetuating this psychological and political enslavement of the everyday ordinary people of ALL colors in this nation. They are systemic gatekeepers whose mission it is to keep us all on the Democrat and Republican [i.e. Republicrat] party plantation. Moreover, the occasional fake political skirmishes for public consumption, between the ‘leadership’ of the corporate-owned Democrats and Republicans, also serve precisely this same purpose—to keep us perpetually enslaved on the Democrat and Republican plantation.

If this nation is to change its course, and survive and thrive, it can no longer be merely about Black power, White power, Brown power, Red Power, or Yellow power. It had better damn well be about Everyday Ordinary PEOPLE power of ALL colors! It’s time to get off of the plantation!

The peoples of Mother Earth need us and we need them and each other and our precious Mother Earth! In the words of Malcolm X, “I am for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole.” Like his predecessor in the White House, Barack Obama and his Democrat and Republican minions are war criminals and consummate prevaricators, and should be dealt with accordingly—irrespective of their pigmentation or gender!

As the late great French philosopher Albert Camus said, “What better way to enslave a man than to give him the vote and tell him he’s free.” We men and women in this nation are NOT free! We are more enslaved than ever. Too many of us are unenlightened SLAVES. Slaves to the corporate/military national and global power elite. As Harriet Tubman said, “I freed a thousand slaves—I could have freed a thousand more if only they knew they were slaves.”

The first step towards political, economic, and social freedom is acknowledging our bondage—so that we might throw that bondage off—TOGETHER! This is a long, protracted, hard, and absolutely necessary everyday people’s struggle—but it CAN and MUST be waged in order to be won!

Each one, reach one. Each one, teach one. Onward, then, my sisters and brothers. Onward!

Intrepid Report Associate Editor Larry Pinkney is a veteran of the Black Panther Party, the former Minister of Interior of the Republic of New Africa, a former political prisoner and the only American to have successfully self-authored his civil / political rights case to the United Nations under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. In connection with his political organizing activities, Pinkney was interviewed in 1988 on the nationally televised PBS News Hour, formerly known as The MacNeil / Lehrer News Hour. Pinkney is a former university instructor of political science and international relations, and his writings have been published in various places, including The Boston Globe, the San Francisco BayView newspaper, the Black Commentator, Global Research (Canada), LINKE ZEITUNG (Germany), and Mayihlome News (Azania/South Africa). For more about Larry Pinkney see the book, Saying No to Power: Autobiography of a 20th Century Activist and Thinker, by William Mandel [Introduction by Howard Zinn]. (Click here to read excerpts from the book.)

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4 Responses to Don’t you dare criticize Barack Obama—after all he’s ‘black’

  1. In a way it was a brilliant move by the national security state to install a part-black mouthpiece for their policies. Of course all other mouthpieces are no better, but Obama has been able to get away with far more without as much obstruction. Of course those who holding true power behind the scenes know there’s no better way to control a population than through divide and conquer tactics. As they become more desperate we should expect to see more messages telling us to fight each other and not pay attention to the true source of the problems.

  2. Randall Tillotson

    History can give us lessons, if we are willing to investigate and heed the warnings given. This is a quote taken from Alexandr Solzhenitsyn’s book “The Gulag Archipelago – Part Three.” (pages 20 – 22)

    In September , 1941, before I went into the army, my wife and I, young school teachers who had just started work in the settlement of Morozovsk (captured by the Germans in the following year), happened to rent lodgings on the same little yard as a childless couple, the Bronevitskys. Nikolai Gerasimovich Bronevitsky, a sixty-year-old engineer, was an intellectual of Chekovian appearance, very likable, quiet, and clever. When I try now to recall his long face I imagine him with pince-nez, though he may not have worn them at all. His wife was even quieter and gentler than he was—a faded woman with flaxen hair close to her head, twenty-five years younger than her husband, but not at all young in her behavior. We were fond of them, and they probably liked us, particularly in contrast to our grasping landlord and his greedy family.
    In the evenings the four of us would sit on the steps of the porch. They were quiet, warm, moonlight evenings, not as yet rent by the rumble of planes and by exploding bombs, but anxiety about the German advance was stealing over us like the invisible clouds stealing over the milky sky to smother the small and defenseless moon. Every day trainloads of refugees stopped at the station, on their way to Stalingrad. Refugees filled the market place of the settlement with rumors, terrors, 100-ruble notes that seemed to burn holes in their pockets, then they continued their journey. They named towns which had surrendered, about which the Information Bureau, afraid to tell people the truth, would keep silent for a long time to come. (Bronevitsky spoke of these towns not as having “surrendered” but as having been “taken.”)
    We were sitting on the steps and talking. We younger people were full of ourselves, of anxiety for the future, but we really had nothing more intelligent to say than what was written in the newspapers. We were at ease with the Bronevitskys: we said whatever we thought without noticing the discrepancies between our way of looking at things and theirs.
    For their part, they probably saw in us two surprising examples of naively enthusiastic youth. We had just lived through the thirties—and we might as well not have been alive in that decade at all. They asked what we remembered best about 1938 and 1939. What do you think we said? The university library, examinations, the fun we had on sporting trips, dances, amateur concerts, and of course love affairs—we were at the age for love. But hadn’t any of our professors been put away at that time? Yes, we supposed that two or three of them had been. Their places were taken by senior lecturers. What about students—had any of them gone inside? We remember that some senior students had indeed been jailed. And what did you make of it? Nothing; we carried on dancing. And no one near to you was—er—touched? No; no one.
    It’s a terrible thing, and I want to recall it with absolute precision. It is all the more terrible because I was not one of the young sporting and dancing set, nor one of those obsessive people buried in books and formulae. I was keenly interested in politics from the age of ten; even as a callow adolescent I did not believe Vyshinsky and was staggered by the fraudulence of the famous trials—but nothing led me to draw the line connecting those minute Moscow trials (which seemed tremendous at the time) with the huge crushing wheel rolling through the land (the number of its victims somehow escaped notice.) I had spent my childhood in queues—for bread, for milk, for meal (meat was a thing unknown at that time)–but I could not make the connection between the lack of bread and the ruin of the countryside, or understand why it happened. We were provided with another formula: “temporary difficulties.” Every night, in the large town where we lived, hour after hour after hour people were being hauled off to jail—but I did not walk the streets at night. And in the daytime the families of those arrested hung out no black flags, nor did any classmates say a word about their fathers being taken away.
    According to the newspapers there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
    And younger men are so eager to believe that all is well.
    I understand now how dangerous it was for the Bronevitskys to tell us anything. But he gave us just a peep into his past, this old engineer who had got in the way of one of the OGPU’s cruelest blows. He had lost his health in prison, been pulled in a time or two, got to know quite a few camps, but he talked with blazing passion only about Dzhezkazgan in its early days—about the water poisoned by copper; about the poisoned air; about the murders; about the futility of complaints to Moscow. The very word Dzhez-kaz-gan made your flesh creep—like steel wool rubbed on the skin, or like the tales of its pitiless ways. (And yet…did this Dzhezkazgan have the slightest effect on our way of looking at the world? Of course not. It was not very near. It was not happening to us. You have to experience it for yourself. It is better not to think about it. Better to forget.)

    ************************************************
    So, here, Solzhenitsyn is confessing to be a dupe, a Russian/Soviet version of the American sheeple. How did this fool wake up? He foolishly wrote a letter to the man of steel, Supreme Leader Stalin, complaining about his policies. Bing! Arrested and sent to the Gulag. A wake up call if there ever was one. Does it have to get to this stage here? Are we going to sit by without lifting a finger and letting it devolve to this stage?

    Now, all I’m reading about are reports like this, what writer Eric Larsen correctly describes as “impotence writing.” Yes, we know it’s bad. We’ve followed the advise of Howard Beale on Network.
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGiX5tbLKiY We’re as mad a hell, but…we’re still taking it.

    If you want to write something that is important—because what you’ve written here is not at all important, is irrelevant—then start posting answers to how to begin to turn this Titanic around and away from the iceberg that everyone already knows is dead ahead. Otherwise, you are just another weakling that is a whining baby. If you are a man, then show some manliness, and give us a step-by-step response on how to stop this drift toward annihilation. No one, including you and your previous writings, have posited a challenge to this nightmare. The time is up. The bell has rung. It’s time for the next phase. Yes, we are angry, and those of us that know what’s going on are demanding solutions. Either you provide them, or you provide a forum for others that DO have a plan, a solution. The time has come. What say ye? Any excuse or attack against me will just be seen as more impotence upon impotence. No Viagra, miracle solution is going to save us, save the grandchildren of those of us that are old and dying off. The slave state has already been with us for nearly a century. If you are incapable of providing this, then step aside. History is going to pass you by, and rightly so. If you are writing here, then you must consider yourself as a leader. Then, lead or get out of the way, and let others with a destination take your place. What did the great Eldridge Cleaver tell us? “You’re either part of the solution or you’re part of the problem.” What good is me reading the Internet news, or me reading your impotence writing and criticizing it? What good is a debate if it accomplishes nothing?

    I’m old. The state doesn’t need to find and eliminate me as a threat. I can easily see the grave dead ahead already. But what about you? How old are you? Do you have children? Do you have grandchildren? How will you answer them in that critical hour, when they approach you with blazing eyes of knowledge and demand to know how you let this happen to them? What will be your response? Remember, they are smart, and you can’t fool them. There’s no escape for you when it’s your family, assuming you have one. Yes, this is a direct challenge to you, personally. Either you accept it, or you stop adding more defeatist writing to the vast sea of impotence already online everywhere. Critical mass has passed. The blast wave of the next big historical event is likely just over the horizon, and we could see it if we could bend that horizon. Start now, today. Time waits for no one.

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