Letter To A Comrade
“Death comes to all of us, but it varies in its significance… to die in the service to the people is heavier than any mountain and deeper than any sea, Samuel’s death is very significant. He will live on in spirit because we will make sure that we will advance the struggle.”
Huey P. Newton, Eulogy For Samuel Napier May 1, 1971
Letter from Rob to his comrade Reg Blanton who was executed October 27, 2009
A battle-axe blow to the foundation of Acquiescence! Indeed, the bubbling, putrid subterranean pool of complacency is still spreading its wretched nefarious fumes amongst the masses. But of course my Thor-blessed twin battle-axes are still blazing relentlessly with masterful power and precision, Compañero—you already know this! You are definitely missed though. As I am sure you would quite readily agree, my Will To Power is rather immaculate but it’s hard being here on my own.
You’ve been dead for a year and 5 months and I still think about you probably every day. A few nights ago I was remembering some things about you and I broke down in tears and as I’m writing tears are still flowing down my cheeks. Compañero, you’re probably going to laugh at this, but can you believe a while back I was listening to some Erykah Badu and I straight up broke down in tears thinking about how much you love the Goddess Erykah? I also laughed though because I thought you’d probably jokingly tell me something like: “Bruh, all power to our LGBT folks and all and you know I got some serious Love for you, but, man something just ain’t right with that!”
Do you remember when we were on [disciplinary] Level and X was our neighbor, when him and Y were having one of those typical prison conversations about which model chick had the nicest ass or some such thing? —And we let scimitars loose and called forth Shakti and got on our feminist, anti-sexist, anti-misogynist vibe?! I really need to attempt to write up some type of manual on our particular form of psychosociopolitical therapy, but how can such things be properly expressed with mere words? Man, I sure do miss you. I’m here alone but I’m still doing my thing.
Right after they killed you I stepped into the War Room with Z and quite mercilessly attacked his subconscious with the fervor of a War-frenzied barbarian. Yes, yes Compañero, no need for chastisement—for strategic purposes I danced a delicate dance of Shiva Natarajan when necessary, the tips of my toes barely brushing across the “muck of the ages” residing within his being. There was, of course, progress but you know what I’m up against. People just don’t give a damn about anything or anyone but themselves. I’m thinking of writing a piece on “Seva” the yogic concept of Selfless Service and essentially using you as an example of the true internalization of Seva. Of course really I’ll just engage in a bunch of veiled, self-congratulatory ego-boosting bombast I’m sure!
You know, Reg, another reason I’m scribing out a communiqué to you is because I’m feeling rather lonely. People just don’t understand half of what I do and say. Usually, when people say they’re ‘misunderstood’ or ‘no one understands me’ I think what that generally translates to is: “I am so psychologically disturbed that the psychodynamics of my interactions with others are so labyrinthine and fucking crazy that no rational thinking person can even begin to understand them”—but I’m sure you feel me Compañero. I’m reminded of something sister Assata wrote:
“And when I read Siddhartha [by Hermann Hesse] a peace came over me. I felt a unity with all things living. The world, in spite of oppression, is a beautiful place. I would say ‘Om’ softly to myself, letting my lips vibrate. I felt the birds, the sun, and the trees. I was in communion with all the forces on earth that truly love people, in communion with all the revolutionary forces on earth.”
Assata wrote this when describing the time she was riddled with bullets in a hospital bed being tortured by police while falsely accused of murdering a police officer. People just didn’t understand being so very immersed in Struggle, so very connected to the Oneness of Humanity. Our most excellent Compañera X recently told me that I should keep writing because it’s good ‘therapy.’ Therapy? You already know I don’t like writing; the only reason I write is because I know it’s beneficial to the Struggle. People just don’t understand.
I’m reminded of something the French intellectual Jean Genêt wrote in a preface to one of George Jackson’s books—he talked about G.J. ‘finding a purpose’ as if G.J.’s work was the result of some sort of quest for self-fulfillment. You know, Mr. Z. He has a Ph.D. and is quite familiar with academics and higher education. I told him about me taking University course and he started talking about personal achievement and such things and I really didn’t even understand what he was talking about. I don’t even think along those lines.
Personal achievement? Even when I was out there in the freeworld and I went to college for a year I did so to get a degree in child psychology and work with kids who were in bad environmental situations. And since then you already know my Consciousness has been dramatically uplifted. My existence, My Life is Art—a Living Artistic representation of the beauty of Struggle. I’m in hell, the Belly of the Beast, a sick twisted Dantean Purgatory, an Orwellian soul-crushing No Man’s Land. Those who support capital punishment, ‘tough on crime’ policies and the current deplorable state of the prison industrial complex tend to portray ‘criminals’ as worthless humans and people on DR as ‘the worst of the worst.’ I’ve never killed anyone and never engaged in any violent criminal activity but I’m still here, currently classified as an ‘inmate,’ a ‘prisoner’ and this place is arguably one of the absolute most oppressive environments in the modern Western world.
I’m sure you’ve been hearing about the situation with Wikileaks and Bradley Manning. (Compañero, you better be keeping up with current sociopolitics in the After Life while holding dialectic with Ancient Sages and engaging in Wild Dionysian mystical rites with Devi and whatever else you’re doing up there!) Everyone in the world is condemning the conditions Manning is being held in as ‘torture’ and academics are saying 10 months in such conditions cause insanity. It’s far worse here and in other Ad-Seg’s in Texas. Man, that reminds me, A completely lost his Mind and is thoroughly lost in the dark realm of severe schizophrenia. Him, of all people? Yeah, I know…very, very sad. And you’re not going to believe this: a few weeks ago, for the first time ever they used metal riot batons during a run in. Yes, I’m serious. And you’re really not going to believe this: for the first time ever they used some type of concussion rifle. They shot B in the face with it and of course it knocked him unconscious and messed him up pretty bad. This place is getting absolutely insane. Well, much more so than when you were here.
Why? Think of the societal changes that occurred during the rise of Fascism under Mussolini in Italy. Think of the intricate—and wretchedly deplorable—psychosocial dynamic changes that happened in Germany during the rise of Nazism. The disease of Nazism affected what people ate, what music they listened to, it changed their taste in Art. The dramatic post-Obama rise of the Right is affecting many areas of our society including the daily functioning of this place. (Be sure to make note of this to Howard Zinn!)
So, yes indeed this is Hell and the whole point of me taking university courses is to show that it can be done in this Hell. I’m a ‘no good prisoner’, a ‘useless criminal’ you say? Hmm, interesting… How about this: How about me taking college courses at one of the largest universities in the U.S., full credit courses and I only make A+s on my assignments? And pardon me if this sounds rather Narcissistic, good sir—but all of my friends with doctorate degrees would readily agree—and really I say this to just make a point——but academic work is quite easy for me, really rather boring a lot of the time and obtaining my Ph.D. will be a smooth unproblematic process.
The life I live in this Hell is an Artistic statement of protest—a battle-ax blow to oppression in so many ways. People just don’t seem to understand these things. I know you do though. And Reg, man, you’d trip out if you read all of the degree plans, course descriptions and lesson plans I read through. I only researched actual well-known large Universities, just for Appearance and Intention purposes—it’s much better to take (and ace) full credit courses from a major University than from one of the more ‘degree mill’ type places. Well, you’d trip out because you’d think, “I already know all this!” Even the more advanced graduate course consist of things we’ve studied and fully understand; by the way, I’m going to get word to Compañero Gabriel out there in population about this so he can get a few college degrees.
Man, I miss our dialectic sessions! Remember how you, Gabriel and I would get so damned mad at each other sometimes?
“Compañero, I do believe that you are no longer engaged in dialectic, but your rhetoric has veered off onto some enigmatic road of rationalization leading to some type of labyrinthine land of bombastic Sophistry or fundamentalist Solipsism or something. I’m not exactly sure what you have going on over there but for the past 10 minutes you’ve done nothing but make a series of, no, more like constructed some intricate foggy web of completely unfounded assertions that have no relation to reality and are not backed up by one single shred, one minute particle of empirical evidence.”
“Hmm, your outburst is quite interesting—how about you define what ‘empirical evidence’ means to you or better yet, why don’t you be gracious enough to explain ‘empiricism’ to me because really it seems that in your own little subjective universe ‘empirical evidence’ means ‘that which lessens the disturbances in my Ego- functioning’ and ‘empiricism’ is ‘the Art by which I employ such empirical evidence or demand it from others.”
Ha! Hell yeah. I miss you and Gabriel also, but the dynamics are different with G. of course because he’s alive and I know he’s out there in g.p. [general population] pushing forward in Struggle, trying to uplift the Consciousness of the masses in the prison system. Educate, elevate, grow, develop, liberate—that’s why we push ourselves to study, to learn. To remain inactive is to be part of the problems of society; so constant action is the only option. And a righteous fire residing deep within one’s Soul fuels this realization.
How can this be explained to those who have not come to this point of heightened Consciousness? Rampant Egocentrism is a pandemic within our society and Ignorance is one of its most foul and obnoxious symptoms. I’m surrounded by this, bombarded with It constantly! And like that horrible demonic clown from the Stephen King movie “It”, it can be absolutely terrifying sometimes. Especially when facing It alone. Don’t worry though, Compañero, (and I know you know this) my focus cannot be shaken and my determination remains unwavering. Peaceful co-existence of Humanity can become a Reality, it will all just take work, very hard work. And indeed I must delve back into that work.
Reg, man, you are so deeply missed—but rest assured that your spirit and the spirits of all those who fought before you live on within Gabriel, within me and within many others. Remember this as you are dancing eternal dances of Love, Life and Creation amongst the gods and goddesses of the Heavens. In the Dionysian-Spartacus spirit of righteous rebellion I’ll sign off with…
Guerilla Love and Respect:
OM SHANTI OM