Tag Archives: justice

Hitmen for Humanity

Vincent Van Gogh (Self Portrait)

Vincent Van Gogh (Self Portrait)


bradley manning
danny chen
in the cold corner
i stand with them

and then they realize
i was here
before

vincent van gogh
malcolm x
both conspired against
society’s nets

and upon falling

in the south of france
or 125th street

there is a need

for a despaired breed
not ideals
but hitmen
for humanity


Malcolm X

Malcolm X

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“I must accept the punishment, all sentences have their terms. Their limits. Those limits are not negotiated -They are endured. Like beatings from an authority other than your Ten-year-old’s perception of Mom and Dad. The truth is that I must have something in my life which is not right – otherwise I’d have no reason to complain. And I need that reason, God, I need that reason. I need to feel useful somehow, cause I’ve got nothing else holding me together except the frustration with my life’s circumstances, my frightening scenarios, and my excessive and constant guilt – which brings forth nothing and only fosters self-loathing and deterioration. You may do something but it never clinches the shame that hangs over you and gnaws at your brain.

Guilt is the mysterious painful lining along the corner of your periphery; hanging itself, doing a balancing act on the razor’s edge. The clean side of everything you tried to keep fresh. Anything sterile will soon be eaten up. Even Hamlet’s mousetrap – it vomits before it unfolds…but neatly nestled within its unsavory corners: tiny pieces of me.”

“I must accept …

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Everyday Activism

A Personal Philosophy & Message to those who Claim to be Revolutionary

Everybody wants to change the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.”

–          Leo Tolstoy

[Union Sq.Park, NYC, July 2004, Anti-War/Republican Protest] (Fleck)

[Union Sq.Park, NYC, July 2004, Anti-War/Republican Protest] (Fleck)

 Activism is in the everyday, the unmarked corners, the unseen hands, the lonely hum of an elevator shaft. It is in the mind and heart of every waking human being who sees the horror of the world in himself. We’re on our last legs. Give a part of yourself wholly before this society rips you apart. Fight, speak truth to power, live creatively, love intensely, never shy away from an argument, spend your last dime on someone you’ve never met, and know that you have tried your best. 

Activism starts in the home.  Or, if you do not have a “home” of your own — in the heart. Real activists are human beings with a lot to lose, with no group or organization behind them. 

True compassion and activism in life must be in a continuous state of flux; the wheels must be constantly revolving. It is not good enough or justifiable, frankly, to attend a protest march while you are fully aware that your next-door neighbor is starving to death.

To be courageous in daily life by speaking truth to power is all the activism one needs to engage in.  And yet how many activists challenge the cruelty or hypocrisy in their daily lives?  I know several so-called activists who will march on the White House lawn and yet won’t lift a finger to scrub their bathroom floor.  There is more activism in keeping your closet organized than there is in empty sloganizing and cliché’ mob-anger.  You want to stop the war?  Stop beating your kids, following incompetent bosses, and getting angry at your spouse for telling a white lie.  Your government lies to you everyday.  And what do you do about it?  You give it your money!

Activism implies taking action.  It implies doing something.  Organizing is different.  It is part of it but it is not the fruit of the womb itself.  It’s the labia. 

Activists assert their humanity and impulse to change the world every single day. It is a way of life, the way some people are born blind or live by a certain code.  These are people you may not acknowledge, but they are real people. They are stars in their unique way and out-shine the dull luster of celebrities and  “professional” activists. They are not slummers and are slaves only to their conscience.  

Remember to look at the drama everyone else ignores.

Revolution, after all, is not the huge explosion — but the tiny threads that make up the wick.

 Words & Image By

  Dennis Leroy Kangalee & Nina Fleck

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