rootwork the rootsblog: a cyberhoodoo webspace

antiwar presentation: do i drop knowledge or rouse the rabble, that is the question

SUNDAY MORNING

nailed it

nice rally, real oldschool, community and su students
i was moved to be part of it

there was a contingent of iraqi veterans against the war there
apparently they had initiated it
active duty iraq vets from fort drum, so i opened up with an old

marching cadence in solidarity, right after the conch, sang

the morning son is rising, the captains had his say , you pray to god
youll see another day - in vietnam vietnam vietnam

and identified myself - head and head, 1st of the 505, 82nd airborne
vietnam blew my young mind - and as i watch another generation march off . . .

and then segued into the text - yada yada
you have to be flexible like that, adjust to the moment

young soldier w/the maroon airborne beret came up after my presentation
said he was glad i was there, i told him no man, im glad you here

i wanted to do the bit about vietnam making me aware of being part of history
that history is not something happen to other folk other places other times

history is now - and what we do this day
means something to future generations

i think it would have meant something to those young dissident soldiers to make that point
but i didnt have but 4 minutes and they were rushing me off stage as it was

i had clocked my presentation at 4 minutes but the crowd kept applauding and cheering
and messed with my timing, i will never again accept a 4 minute time slot

in struggle
rdoc

WEDNESDAY NIGHT

hello world, got to work out that presentation for saturday
got to get it going cause i dont like to be slack, i like to be ready

when its showtime i like to show, wihch mean i have to get
that draft right now so i can be working it a couple of days

four minutes or less they say, thats cool, less time to fill, hit it
and quit it rick, thats the way i like it, who was that masked man

so, the big question is, do i drop knowledge
or do i rouse the rabble

to storm the barricades
be nice to do both

----------------------------------------------

(lord legba, open this gate)
then the conch (keep it tight)

there come those times in the well lived life, when you feel the need
to stand up and be counted - that time has come, that time is now

when I was first was asked to do this thing today I said no
told peacecouncil i was gon be out of town, thanks for asking me

cause i didnt feel like the hassle, the effort, the anxiety of getting up here
trying to move the people in 4 minutes or less, and i was like look here partner ima pass

but I thought about it, decided it was time to stand up and be counted

decided this gathering of the faithful, this action we have mounted here today
Is bigger than the war in iraq, this is a battle for the soul of america

and this a battle we can not afford to lose
bush been a blessing, a wake up call

we had gotten complacent
forgot this an ongoing struggle, this aluta continua

we let the right wing outorganize us, all this happen this last 6 years or so
this your fault, this my fault  -  this been 20 30 years in the making

we was chilling while they was organizing, coming up w/new ways of mobilizing      their forces
forging the tactics of tomorrow while we still stuck in the 60s

marches and protests, the makedo strategies of the weak and the powerless
21st century yall, got to get our game on

something they havent seen before, something they not ready for
longgame strategies designed to shape us into the people we need to be

got to think in generations – longgame
destinywork – shaping souls

been a warrior in the struggle all my life
but I am no longer a young and vigorous warrior

i am an old warhorse now, hopefully wise and wily and i have been through enough
campaigns that it is the long campaign I concern myself with now

how does one live a life of grace and achievement that is still a lifelong commitment
to struggle  - how do you avoid burnout in a lifetime of struggle, effective struggle

o i have become comfortable with the glacial pace of social change.

phases of struggle come and go.  you win some you lose some, you keep on struggling
you note the lessons you make your adjustments    you keep on struggling

every day and every way, relentless, focused, smart and strategic
building institutions, shaping generations

then when you come to those crossroads moments, when destiny lies
in the choice of the moment, moments like this one, this very moment, you ready

to stand up and be counted, got resources to bring to the table
that time has come, that time is now

we got a emperor say he dont need no clothes, say who you gon believe, me or your
lying eyes - well this america we got now, this is not an america i want to live in

this is not a world I want to pass on to my children

so i got back to the peace council folk and i said yeah, ill be there
cause i wanted    to be here     today     with you     my peeps in the struggle

fired up and ready to go
getting they game on

be able to tell my children i was there  - i stood up, i was
counted - during the great gitting up morning

and i would that you leave here this evening renewed   in struggle
refreshed and regenerated    in struggle

strong in your power, confident in the victory of all that is good,
all that makes us human, all that makes us care

weve come a long way you and i,  weve climbed some difficult mountains
but we still got so very far to go.

and when the hardtimes come, and they always do, I want you to keep
on keeping on     hold on you must be strong     you fight the battles friend

nobody else could win  (bluesharp closure)
nobody else could win

that is all

in the name of the conqueror
this spell is done

---------------------------------

decided to go with dropping science

once upon a time i would have roused the rabble
an elder statesman now, i prefer to drop science

when i do move the people, i want to move them well
move them to true power

notice i open w/legba, close w/the conqueror
in accordance w/de hoodoo book of flowers

raining outside, some lightning, rumbling thunder
one of my faces stormbringer you know

this my kind of weather
page clocking weather

rickydoc on a sungun
360%

0:0: the conjurors gift:1st toss in the hoodoo book of flowers

WEDNESDAY MORNING

hello dear regulators, ive decided i cant do the hoodoo book of flowers
maybe every once in awhile when im burned out on the novel but i messed

around and gave my 3 hour work session this morning to this thing instead of to the novel and
feel terrible, i could have gotten a whole paragraph of my novel done this morning, i cant take it

i cant do nothing that take away novel time and

seeing the quality of this hoodoo book of flowers passage, its going to take more
time and investment than i have to give it right now

god i want to do my little holybook so bad
so bad - i fear dying without leaving a viable draft of it

i just got to be patient, and depend on gods grace
surely the gods would not call me, and not allow me to manifest

i will do this thing when i finish my novel
and not before  -  laserfocus rick, laserfocus

no major projects rick, absolutely none
until the novel is done

my love to you all
rdoc

TUESDAY

hello world, i feel like a shark in the water
got to keep moving to stay alive

got so much i need to do with that last post
but who got the time, schoolhouse got me by the  . . throat

and the world spinning like crazy, me and that shark, we got to move on
i will stay in this week for awhile, hopefully get a chance to play with that last post

(thats what i like about doing weeklong posts, gives me chance to edit, reflect and revise)
but in the meantime i want to make a couple of snide comments about blackwater

seems iraq is not the only government they willing to defy w/their cowboys ways
they have also told congress to kiss their  . . . throat

state department told blackwater not to give waxman documents requested for
a congressional probe into their activities

blackwater has become a potent symbol for bushs outsourcing of
government services, mercenaries governed apparently by no law

except a license to kill

im outta here
rdoc

comments postscript: me and you omi, we on the same page homegirl
i do tend to as you say 'freestyle' but i appreciate

communal work too, one climbs to higher heights when
one worship w/de bredren and sistren

i will always remember a reading i did once at the ethical culture center
in manhattan - under a quote that said something along the lines of

where folk meet to seek the highest, that space
is holyground  (like rootsblog maybe)

much love
rdoc

MONDAY

hello world, in particular snake 2g and omi
fellow travelers and keepers of the faith

dont get me wrong now yall, you know ima believer

i just believe we got to be stronger
than we been

cause we been losing out for awhile now, 2 - 3 thousand years
cause blackpeople all over the world suffering

cause as contemporary shamans i believe that responsibility
taking care of the tribal soul and destiny, is on us and

our indigenous spiritual traditions

cause if we want to get our people out of this historical trickbag
we have found ourselves in, we got to flip the script, get on the

good foot and transform our people
into an illuminated people of astounding power

and when i say the good life, im talking material

but even more im talking spiritual power, the illuminated life
of achievement and significance, one that contributes value

to the human condition
and so forth along these lines

i believe it is critical that our spiritual traditions be stronger than theyve been
i believe this is an evolutionary thing and its time to take the next step

speaking of which i believe ima try to move my

wouldbe holybook into high gear for a minute, been trying to wait till i finish
this novel but this novel taking forever

been buried in rest for the weary lately, thats why i aint been online
got caught up in the rebuild of the draft, which i am really loving by the way

im so close now i can taste it, and every discretionary moment been thrown
into rest for the weary - take an act of god to stop this show

which is of course what i fear -so let me knock off some commentary
right quick and get back to work

jena 6: good to see that movement energy
like gil scot say, glad to see resistance growing

but it was sobering to read the comments on this abc post
one guy says he will pray for the poor folk of jena, that if he was one of the

poor folk of jena he would lock his family in the basement till the savages leave
and so forth along these lines, lotta comments on how the

jena 6 deserve to be charged with whatever, a lotta comments
on how obama going down cause he didnt speak out against it

and, in jessies words, prove he white

probably get just the opposite on black lists
situations like this remind you just how far we have to go

folk like to think we postrace but scratch the surface and its not
much better than shiites and sunnis in iraq

what the haters dont understand is that blackfolk not objecting to them being
punished, we objecting to unequal punishment,

slap on the wrist for whitefolk, jail for blacks, we grew up with that
southern justice and it piss us off to see it still happening 21st century

and obama is in a very ticklish situation, identify too much with black
causes and hes toast, dont identify and hes toast

i dont think he will be able to pull it off
i dont see how anybody could,

i been trying to give him enuf room to make a credible run
anybody running for president is going to have to make more compromises

than i would be comfortable with, but unless he out and out do wrong
ima give the brother a shot, unlike his homeboy jealous jessie

quickie on guilianis calls from wife during nra speech
how many times do you plan to run that little routine

how many times will repbulican audiences fall for it - well, based
on how many times theyve fallen for bushs iraq okeydoke

they will fall for it over and over and over

in the sudan, more problems over darfur in the west and
in the south, conflict over oil may derail that hardwon peace

or should i say that ceasefire,

and now the arab tribes in chad say they being harrrassed by
the chadian goverment, hard to sympathize with them,

the chadian arab tribes  made common cause with their cousins from sudan and
began to attack chadian africans like they had done in the sudan

so now the chadian government is attacking them
my humanitarian instincts say thats probably wrong too, but i believe ima give

the hordesman control of this issue

i have many faces, many masks, depending on the situation, sometimes, most of
the time i let the poet handle things, the sensitive humanitarian, but sometimes i call

on the hordesman, when battle has come to us, when its about protecting the lives
of my people and ensuring the survival of my culture, im liable to unleash the hordesman

the more ruthless me, the one i generally keep under lock and key
the one whose response to pressure is to gather a horde and fling it into battle

the hordesman has requested control of the darfur situation

like the dinka in the south, the only thing that will stop the arab depredations in darfur
the sudan, chad, etc, is when the blacks are capable of defending themselves

instead of crying out to the international commuity to save us everytime the hammer falls
i have little sympathy for the so called arab tribes of chad in this matter,

but one thing the hordesman knows, that master of real politic, is that this situation
is more complicated than i can ever encompass, and a strictly nationalist response

probably wont get it, too many nuances particular to the region

and that militarization is probably not the answer either but im tired of
 blackfolk being kicked around by the sudan, the libyans, the eritrians etc

okay, what else do i need to catch up on

would you believe i accepted an invitation to speak at a big antiwar rally being held
here in syracuse on the 29th of the month, the syracuse peace council, at 1st i told them no

i been telling everybody ask me to speak/present/etc no - when i was a kid and hordesman was my
primary mode, it was a big challenge to put an audience in the palm of my hand but i aint a kid no more

and i tend to avoid the anxiety, the effort etc, unless i am properly motivated
or getting paid, but the more i thought about it the guiltier i felt, so i told them yes

now i got to figure out what to say, 4 minutes in a string of antiwar speakers
i am not looking forward to this cause you know i got to shine, ima natural born showboat

and its been a long time since i tried to move the people
for these kind of tasks i assign the hordesman - he do know how to stir the crowd

i guess thats it for the moment, part of the reason i been off the grid
is that im not feeling my social/political commentary as words of power

you know me dear regulators, if my words aint words of power
i feel like im wasting my time and energy, of which i seem to have

less every year so im going to i think work on my holybook
for my rootsblog time,

and got to reload rootwork.com as part of that, lost my old hosting service
in the past, jeff parker, my mentor in online literary game, set up websites for me

this time im on my own, which is cool, i need the skilz, parker just show me the way
okay so anyway, the point is that the text of the hoodoo book of flowers is on rootwork.com

and these segments go in it, so hopefully will have it back up this week sometime
okay, a quick catchup for those who dont know - trying to do a hoodoo holybook

have tried different formats in the past, tried biblic, koranic, ifa, iching, nothing has worked
much less been luminous, now trying a divination system of my own making

9 cowrie tosses, 9 times 2, (made a divination chain after papa gede nibo bey
showed me the way) - so its 81 progressions - would like to coordinate this with

my 101 hoodoo haints initiative, the 101 talismans of rickydoc,
(so ima need 20 more somehow - i will figure it out as i work it)

you have to understand dear regulators that im about to let you see me make the
sausage so its going to be rough, hopefully ima put one a week up so its going

to be very rough, these 1st drafts will not be good drafts until ive finished
the whole draft and can start cleaning it up, but ima use working it out publicly to drive me

to completion, the embarrassment of weak work out there does it every time
the first 9 progressions are initiation:

the first toss is 0:0: 9 open cowries, 9 open cowries

very rare to get this divination so i call it the conjurors gift
(opps - freudian slip: i meant the conquerors gift)

for each one i will have a 9 block sequence of text
right now im thinking

1)  the progressions
2)  the story
3)  lifework: initation, family, health, love, commuity
4)  the tradition
5)  magic
6   illumination
7)  prophecy
8)  destinywork and the longgame
9)  the geas of rickydoc

so ima try to knock my initial draft and cleanup
over the next week or so, theoretically this will

take approximately 2 years (right, dream on rick)
cause i got to do it in my discretionary time

of which i have none, between family, schoolhouse, palf
and trying to maintain novel momentum im stressed

overextended, overplayed, underpaid
okay, quit crying rick, you do love the life

so - do the draft - 0:0: the conquerors gift

--------------------------------------------

0:0:  the conquerors gift
in the name of the conqueror

crossroads: where every move changes things
when destiny lies in the choice of the moment

1) progressions: it is in the beginning that the paths are laid

beginnings are always hard, preparation a must
the moment is auspicious, seize the day

2) storyline:

The Legend of Highjohn the Conqueror
(The Way Zora Neale Tell It.  Jackie Torrance on the riff)

For a longtime Highjohn de Conqueror was just the name of a plant that grew wild in the marshland.  It was dug and dried and carried in the hand or worn about the neck to ward off haints, disease and nightmares.  The power root.  Break any obstacle.  Cause any problem to fall.  After awhile that plant became so powerful it began to walk like a natural man.

Now Highjohn the human kept out of the sight of folk.  Live Legba child in the swamp somewhere.  But whenever you in trouble you whisper his name and you can feel the Conqueror as he pass you in the breeze, listen good you hear him whisper in the trees. 

Zora claim the Conqueror must walk on the wind, cause he move so fast.  Say maybe he in Mississippi when the lash fall on a slave in the Sudan, but before the blood dry on the back the Conqueror is there.  Beating the unbeatable and superior to the whole mess a sorrow.  Claim this our day.  Claim to know the way.

Zora say its the Conquerors voice come through clearest on Sunday morning.  Say its the Conqueror whose worksong sustain you in the field.  Say wherever the work the hardest the Conqueror is there.  Lifting the hoe higher than anybody else and still have time to wipe the sweat from your brow.  To give you a cool drink of water. 

Zora say he apple pie sweet and  breh rabbit quick.  The cool breeze on a hot summer night and the wetness of a sweet summer rain.  He the hopebringer.  The burden bearer.  The battlefighter.  The jackpot winner.  He a mighty power.  An ultimate force.   When you whisper my name that bee dont sting.  That sqeeter dont bite.  That snake dont strike. 

Zora claim the conqueror help the slaves get free by tricking old massa.  Say after the slaves was free, the soul of the conqueror went into the Highjohn de Conquer root.  Waiting to return whenever there a need.  Say you call him and he be there before you finish saying his name.  Highjohn de Conqueror.  The Mighty Conqueroo.

Thats what Zora Neale say.  Ask her yourself if you dont believe me.

3)  lifework:

initiation: life as initiation, becoming aware, conscious, the moment of understanding life as illumination is the 1st step of a lifelong journey

family:  two families, the family you come from, the one you begin, better integration of the two is the call here

health:  health is a primary concern, renewed attention to the ital lifestyle is whats is called for in this toss

love:

community:

4)  the tradition

the divine in its many names and permutations
illumination of the african way of god requires . . .

5)  magic

making real into the world that which was not
the 1st step of magical is magical imagery

that which is to be manifested must
first be conceived - the power of the magician, the power of the artist

the power of ideas

the conjuror is skilled in the creation and vitilization of mental images
magical meditation is the power to build images in the mind and

feed them power until they are real in the world
this is the power of the conjure

feats of magic: making real that which was not
require thorough preparation and sanctification

peparation is called for here, sanctify yourself

6   illumination

7)  prophecy

8)  destinywork and the longgame

the roots of the african way of god in the americas were laid when
african captives were dispersed and not allowed to practice their religions

where allowed african religions were fused with catholicism because it had

room for the african gods in the catholic saints

in the united states, where african culture/religion was more severly repressed
african religion lost its divine nature and became magical - hoodoo

the african american slave community under mortal siege denied its priests, turned to its sorcerors. 

most every major slave rebellion included african holymen jamaica's macandal, brazil's ganga zumba, hait's boukman, gullah jacks and nat turners, inspiring the slaves to battle by claiming to protect from bullets and harm, by claiming those who died in the cause would be instantly transported back to guinee

(WEDNESDAY POSTCRIPT:  OKAY, THIS IS JUST NOT WORKING, IM NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO DO THIS ONLINE, (I KEEP TELLING MYSELF THAT AND KEEP COMING BACK ADDING MORE, WE SHALL SEE, RIGHT NOW IT DOESNT FEEL LIKE ITS WORKING, THIS RAW TEXT IS KILLING ME, ITS EMBARRASSING ME - KEEP DOING IT FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK RICK, WHENEVER YOU GOT A DISCRETIONARY HOUR OR SO, BUT I REALLY NEED TO GIVE THOSE DISCRETIONARY HOURS TO THE NOVEL, THATS IT, I GOT TO FINISH MY NOVEL BEFORE I DIG INTO THIS, I JUST GOT TO BE PATIENT, PATIENCE PUPPY, PATIENCE)

9)  the geas of rickydoc

-------------------------------

okay gotta go,, will work this later this week
duty calls, manuscripts must be read

i dont know if im going to be able to do this
its going to take too much time away from my novel

and the newage tonality is embarrassing me
i thnk im going to have to be patient and just do this after novel

i gave the morning to this and i could have clocked a page
or two, i will have to see

my love to you all
in particular snake and omi

fellow travelers and
keepers of the faith

rdoc

------------------

MONDAY postscript: i am a horse of the conqueror
a once upon a time (and still) horse of legba

but i am trying to supplant legbas role in the

african american pantheon w/the conqueror
as the african american afrosprititual rep

what african american panetheon you might ask
well thats what the 101 talismans of rickydoc aspire to be

and in it i see the conqueror as an african american legba
the trickster, the messenger, the gate opener

but with attributes specifically designed for our culture
our history, our destiny - our space and time

trying to give the conqueror attributes and a narrative
in rest for the weary and the rest of my works

so i was going to start with the conqueror

but my training is to open w/legba and im thinking maybe
i will open with legba instead and let the conqueror close

so 0:0 will now be Legbas Gift
while 9:9 will be The Conquerors Gift

but since i love the Conqueror so, i will do it first
which means i will do Legba and the Conqueror together????

because all this time i been thinking of the conquerors attributes
as the beginning, the opening toss,, and now i got confusion in my head

cause part of 0:0 is now legba and part is the conqueror
which is kinda appropriate since i consider them both riffs on the same thread

i will have to sort it out wont i
in the name of the conqueror

im outta here

rickydoc flowers
wouldbe prophet of the hoodoo way

this battle will be one of grace: which is the better way

hello world, this got sent out on a hoodoo list
by papa gede nibo bey lakwa

in the assault on atr by the religions of the desert
i tend to think of christanity as less coercive than islam

but apparently this is not the case
they are both aggressor religions that try to impose

their exclusivity on others
we saw this same process in haiti and elsewhere

atr is under assault all over the world, including africa

got two dangers here, the aggressive proselytizing
costing us believers

and our own archaic practices costing us believers

christanity and islam both have proven to be more illuminated
traditions when in conflict with atr in traditional societies

i suspect some folk are going to object to that statement
but its been a factor in our loss of traditional ground in africa

islam and christanity both been pushing us back

the criteria of success for a good system is that its
believers live a good life

one full of meaning and significance, one of power
over self and adversity

and so forth along these lines
african traditional religion has failed this critical test

whereever in the world that you have blackfolk living
a traditional life they are behind in all indicators of social well being

they are sicker, weaker, poorer than other folk
and eager to find another way that will give them a better life

so when islam and christanity come hunting souls
they find atr to be fertile pickings

hopefully we can repel their aggressive search for converts
but our archaic and outdated practices will also have to be reconsidered

all religions, all traditions, have to evolve
there is this constant tension between tradition and evolution

this constant need to decide what must be kept
and what must be left behind

this constant quest
for illumination

we must become an illuminated tradition
competitive in the spiritual marketplace

we must become the illuminated tradition
of the 21st century

with a system designed for the 21st century
mind and sensibility

for in the final analysis this battle will be one of grace
which is the better way

all my love
rdoc

-----------------------------------------------

  Christianity vs. the old gods of Nigeria

by Dulue Mbachu, Associated Press Writer, Tues, Sept 4, 1:19 pm et

 

Born to a family of traditional priests, Ibe Nwigwe converted to Christianity as a boy. Under the sway of born-again fervor as a man, he gathered the paraphernalia of ancestral worship — a centuries-old stool, a metal staff with a wooden handle and the carved figure of a god — and burned them as his pastor watched.

 

"I had experienced a series of misfortunes and my pastor told me it was because I had not completely broken the covenant with my ancestral idols," the 52-year-old Nwigwe said of the bonfire three years ago. "Now that I have done that, I hope I will be truly liberated."

 

Generations ago, European colonists and Christian missionaries looted Africa's ancient treasures. Now, Pentecostal Christian evangelists — most of them Africans — are helping wipe out remaining traces of how Africans once worked, played and prayed.

 

As poverty deepened in Nigeria from the mid-1980s, Pentecostal Christian church membership surged. The new faithful found comfort in preachers like evangelist Uma Ukpai who promised material success was next to godliness. He has boasted of overseeing the destruction of more than 100 shrines in one district in December 2005 alone.

 

Achina is typical of towns and villages in the ethnic Igbo-dominated Christian belt of southeastern Nigeria where this new Christian fundamentalism is evident. The old gods are being linked to the devil, and preachers are urging not only their rejection, but their destruction.

 

The Ezeokolo, the main shrine of Achina — a community of mainly farmers and traders in Nigeria's rain forest belt — has been repeatedly looted of its carved god figures. While no one has been caught, suspects range from people acting on Christian impulses to treasure thieves.

 

Recently, a village civic association volunteered to build a house to keep burglars away from a giant wooden gong decorated with carved male, female and snake figures. The gong in the market square is reputed to be more than 400 years old, and in decades past was sounded in times of emergency.

 

"We feared it may be stolen or destroyed like so many of our traditional cultural symbols," said Chuma Ezenwa, a Lagos-based lawyer.

 

But the move to protect a communal symbol has not changed the minds of others.

 

Ikechukwu Nzekwe, a 48-year-old farmer who belongs to a traditional masquerade cult, rues the action of his younger brother, a born-again Christian who destroyed the family's masquerade costume, including pieces dating back seven generations.

 

The masquerade cult was once part theater, appearing at festivals to perform songs and dances, and part traditional police — its members helped enforce mores and customs. Now its role is largely restricted to theater, including performances and races by men in costumes depicting ancestral spirits.

 

Ukpai, the evangelist, tells followers the artifacts bear "curses and covenants" linked to the gods they represent.

 

"Since the curses and covenants do not automatically disappear when we repent, Rev. Dr. Uma Ukpai is a man called by God for the total liberation of mankind," he says on his Web site, claiming to have the spiritual backing of Jesus to break the curses.

 

Efforts to speak to Ukpai were unsuccessful, and e-mails to his office asking for an interview received no reply.

 

Early missionaries to Nigeria condemned most traditional practices as pagan. Roman Catholics and Anglicans later came to terms with most practices, even incorporating some traditional dances into church liturgy. But there was no room for local gods once their erstwhile worshippers became Christians.

 

Similarly, Muslim preachers in Nigeria's predominantly Islamic north forbade interaction with figures dedicated to local idols, although many cultural dances featuring traditional masks are still tolerated.

 

Most converts are in constant tension over how much of the old beliefs can be incorporated into their new faith, said Isidore Uzoatu, a specialist in the history of Christianity in Africa affiliated with Nnamdi Azikiwe University in southeastern Nigeria.

  "Where the older Catholic and Anglican denominations are more tolerant, the Pentecostals reflect more strictly the idea of a jealous God that would brook no rival," said Uzoatu. The changing attitudes have not escaped the attention of art dealers.   "This work you see here is from a shrine. It was brought to me by one woman who said her pastor had asked her to get rid of it," said Wahid Mumuni, a dealer at Ikoyi Hotel in Lagos, gesturing toward a carving. Mumuni said the price was the equivalent of $1,500 and he expected a European visitor to take it away soon.   The National Commission for Museums and Monuments, which is responsible for protecting the country's cultural antiquities, has responded with a sensitization campaign.

"We are ... telling the Christians that they can't detach themselves from their past, that there is a beginning to their history," said Omotosho Eluyemi, a senior commission official. The commission urges those who do not want to keep sacred objects to take them to local chiefs. It also seeks stricter enforcement of the law prohibiting export of artifacts. Okwy Achor, an archaeologist, fears the government's response has been weak compared to the fervor of the evangelists.   Achina is part of the region where famed Igbo-Ukwu bronzes were discovered in a private compound in 1958. Older and more sophisticated than the better-known Benin and Ife bronzes, the Igbo-Ukwu bronzes date to between the 8th and 10th centuries and provide proof that a unique form of metallurgy evolved in Nigeria. While Achina had few Christians 60 years ago, they now constitute more than 95 percent, says Emmanuel Eze, a retired teacher.

   

"There is hardly anyone around these days to speak up for tradition," said Eze.

vodou child: vodou in long island

hello world, i feel bad about that last post on the tradition in venezuela
tried to look at it dispassionately but it was a very classic kind of attack on the tradition

im going to put this article from the village voice on here whole as a kind
of fair balance reporting - a vodou ceremony in long island

as a hoodoo we dont go in for all that ritual and ceremony
sound like a lot of work to me, but most folks they need their

churches and all, their priestly interlocutors, its cool . . . .

(flowers it seem you just cant help yourself can you, part of the reason im
putting this post on here is to stay cool with my atr peeps after
putting that attack article on because it did raise some interesting questions
mostly about the political spread of atr in south america

but instead of just being cool, here i am start talking about ceremonial religion -
forgive me gang, this strictly a sorceric personal

but this is the reason i aspire to the prophetic rather than your conventional religious

i want to be part of the atr world but i do not want to go through all that ritual, nor
do i want to be subject to all those religious rules and regulations, my relationship
with the divine i want to be a more personal negotiation

hoodoo is always been an outlaw relation in the atr world, more magical than religious
the lost children of the conqueror, but i believe the future of hoodoo will be more deeply

tied to atr, many hoodoo now are also initiated priests in other atrs
so im trying to retain our magical independence while at the same time defining

us as part of the atr world
and of course positioning hoodoo as a power in the atr world

which is why i am trying to position hoodoo (and myself) in the prophetic

the prophetic is part of the world yet separate from it, the prophetic is in it but not of it
and given the cultural dispensation to not only break the rules, but to establish new ones

most folk need organized churches and priestly interlocutors to deal with the divine and
i accept that, i understand the value of it, its just not for me

i go to atr ceremonies for the same reason i go to church
occasionally (southern black baptist of course) i enjoy the flow

most prophets are more deeply tied to their given traditions but they always have to step
away from what the theological herd is doing and try to establish new and improved processes

to renew and regenerate worn out traditions
by definition the prophet has to be out of step

or something along these lines, i dont have time to get deeply into this, i got manuscripts
to read for my 330 class, be well, my love to you all, in particular my fellow atr practitioners

anytime i step out of line, just yank my chain)

-----------------------------------------

Vodou Child

Haitian religious rites in the unlikeliest of places: a Long Island suburb

by Tamara Lush

September 4th, 2007 5:09 PM

Chantal Louis is a 42-year-old Haitian immigrant who lives in suburban Hempstead in Nassau County. She's a mother of three, a computer technician, and flashes a megawatt smile. She lives in a white, two-story, colonial home graced by dainty lace curtains in the windows and a white wicker chair on the porch. The home, which is worth $420,000, sits on a tidy, oak-tree-lined street.

Lately, she's been a bit depressed—her eldest daughter is heading off to college, and Chantal is wondering what her own future holds. Most women at her age and station in life would pop a Prozac or take a yoga class. Instead, she turned to a 36-year-old vodou priest named Erol Josué.

So one night in July, Josué traveled from his home in Miami to New York, where he gathered a half-dozen or so other vodou practitioners—including a paralegal, an accountant, and a hospital worker. All were well-heeled Haitian- Americans—the kind of people who might work next to you in an office or perhaps coach your kid in a baseball league. Their mission: appeal to the spirits to remedy Louis's ennui.

For seven hours, starting at about 10 p.m., they spoke in tongues, danced, spilled high-octane rum onto a machete, lit the blade on fire, and held it aloft. The next day, they would bless a chicken, kill it, then eat the flesh as thanksgiving to the spirits.

Though vodou got its start in West Africa, then spread into the mountains of Haiti, and later to the slums of Miami and New York, it has increasingly made its way into well-appointed homes like Chantal's. And who better to bring it than Josué, a world traveler, choreographer, and artist who released his first CD of vodou-tinged global-beat tunes, Régléman, to critical acclaim this summer.

"Wherever I go, I go with Haiti, because my way of life is vodou—my music, my dance, I go with that because it is in my heart," he says. "My heart is Haiti. I live the Haitian life every day."

Erol's stepfather was a well-known vodou priest (called a houngan), and so were his mother and grandmother. "When you come from a vodou family, you're a very different child," says Carol d'Lynch, a Miami priestess originally from Haiti. She knew Erol during his boyhood. "As a vodou child, you know your responsibility, you know what is important, you know the things coming in life."

For Haitians, vodou is not just the stuff of dolls with pins stuck in their eyes or zombies wandering in the forest. The centuries-old religion has permeated Haiti for generations, after it was carried by slaves from West Africa to the Caribbean starting in the 1700s. On the island of Hispaniola, which includes Haiti and the Dominican Republic, those transplanted Africans mingled with the Taino Indians, who were also persecuted by European occupiers. Vodou evolved from the three cultures and played a huge role in Haiti's liberation from France. In 1751, a houngan named François Mackandal organized other slaves to raid sugar and coffee plantations. The French burned him at the stake. Another former slave and vodou practitioner replaced him at the helm of the liberation movement: Toussaint L'Ouverture , whose efforts helped Haiti win its independence in 1804.

In the years that followed, vodou became a mystical, powerful tool of the government and a cultural touchstone for the masses. Haitian immigrants brought it with them to the United States. For the young Erol, vodou meant family, nature, and love. "It was the best thing in my life," he recalls.

Though a large percentage of Haitians, like Erol's family, practiced vodou in the '70s and '80s, it was still officially discouraged by the government and the Catholic Church. Because Erol's family wanted him to receive a decent education, they sent him to Frére Justin L'Herisson, a Catholic school in Haiti named after the man who wrote the country's national anthem—but his mom and dad forbade him from talking about the vodou practiced at home. "I would have gotten kicked out had they known," he says.

Like Erol, Chantal grew up in Haiti. Unlike Erol, she didn't discover her vodou roots until she had emigrated to the United States in her twenties, had children, and began to question her existence. "I needed something to hold onto," she says. She met Erol in New York at a friend's ceremony and felt a connection to him. Chantal rarely hosts ceremonies; this is only her second since she began practicing vodou.

By 10 p.m., the small group is ready. There are six women in their forties, all dressed in white, including Florence Jean-Joseph, a paralegal at a law firm and a voudou priestess herself. There's also Huguette, who works in a hospital, and one man other than Erol: 39-year-old Ernest Jourdain, an accountant from Fort Lauderdale. He's a friend of Erol's who happened to be visiting the New York area on the night of the ceremony. Jourdain is the only person not dressed in white; he's wearing a lime-green Izod shirt and jeans.

Josué, who is tired after a delayed plane flight from Miami, is dressed in a silky white shirt and white pants. He steadies himself and begins the liturgy. He closes his eyes and sings, his voice rising into a rhythmic chant. The sound is directed to the people in the room, but the lyrics are meant for the spirits. Huguette shakes a brightly painted gourd and Florence sings and the women clap and sway in time with Erol's voice. Ernest sits on a white plastic chair in the back of the room, following the music and praying softly to himself.

One by one, Erol and the others greet the spirits. Each supernatural being receives a similar ritual: a song, an offering (usually of rum or some other liquid), a lit candle. Everyone kneels on the floor at least once during the greeting. Occasionally, Erol dances with one or two of the women—he dances the most with Florence, whom he calls his "spiritual sister." It's a sensual dance, but not sexy. The rituals are nothing like Hollywood's version of vodou—no pentagrams, animal sacrifices, skeletons, or zombies in sight. There's actually a lot of laughter and easygoing banter during the ceremony; it's a loose atmosphere, with people getting up, walking out, using the bathroom, or sipping water throughout.

Chantal is the most moved by the ceremony and the prayer. At around midnight, she cries as she sings. Her tears and words turn to high-pitched babble—she is speaking in tongues. She faints into the arms of Florence Jean-Joseph and Huguette. Erol gently, yet quickly, walks over to help ease Chantal onto the floor and then covers her with a white sheet. Florence sprays perfume into the air. The room now smells like roses, sweat, and fried fish. Chantal rises, then staggers into a small room off the main basement area, where she flops down on a bed for 15 minutes, exhausted.

At around 1 a.m., Chantal is back before the altar. Another spirit possesses her—it's Damballah, the snake god. At first, Chantal careens around the room, as if drunk, out of control. Then she falls to the floor, writhing, belly down, contorting her body and rolling her eyes back into her skull. She hisses in time with Erol's chanting. After a few minutes, Chantal rolls over on her back and faints. Erol again covers her, tenderly. When she comes to about a minute later, she gets up and walks out of the room, groggy, as if rising from a deep sleep. When Chantal walks in a few moments later, she asks if anyone wants coffee, and if so, would they like cream or sugar.

At 4:30 a.m., Erol ties a red scarf on his head, a striking contrast to his all-white outfit and caramel-colored skin. He is singing loud, summoning Ogou, the warrior god who also represents politics and magic. It is believed that he gave power to the slaves in Haiti when they rebelled against the French government in 1804, and bestowed power again when Aristide took over in 1994. Ogou likes weapons and chaos.

In front of the altar, the woman named Huguette sits on the floor, her arms floppy and her legs stretched out in front of her like a Raggedy Ann doll. She's dressed all in white, her satiny skirt billowing around her ample hips, with a white scarf tied around her head. Her face is soaked with sweat and her eyes are half-closed, in a trance. She holds an avocado in her hands. She takes a giant, sloppy bite of the fruit, skin and all.

Chantal, her eyes round and unfocused, slowly steps to the altar. She takes hold of the machete that has been sitting on the offering table. Erol removes the red scarf from his head and ties it around the knife's handle. He sways and sings, his voice rising above the low hum of the others who are having their own private conversations with the spirit. Erol summons Ogou in Creole and Chantal steps to the altar. Still clutching the machete, she takes a bottle of Barbancourt rum with the other hand and pours half of it over her head, then carefully kneels down. Setting the machete on the floor over two rocks, she pours the rum on the two-inch-wide blade and reaches toward the altar for a pack of matches. Chantal strikes one, then ignites the alcohol-soaked blade; there's a soft blue flicker. She chants, and the words get louder as she jumps up and tries to stamp out the flame with her bare feet.

In one motion, Chantal stands up, grabbing the machete by the handle and brandishing it above her head. She screams, angry, her eyes wide and clear.

Chantal's 18-year-old daughter, a slip of a girl with her mother's wide smile who is soon going to college in upstate New York, appears at the doorway to watch. She had been sitting in front of the widescreen upstairs in the family room but heard the noise and wandered down. Dressed like a typical teenager—she's in a pink Baby Phat tank top and tiny shorts—the girl looks like a time traveler, strangely modern compared to the women in long, billowing skirts. Chantal screams, loud, and the room suddenly feels uncomfortably small and crowded. The other five women stand before the altar, swaying in unison and singing. They don't pay attention to Chantal or the machete that she's clutching in both hands.

The other women in the room push the daughter forward, in front of her mother holding the machete. Chantal takes the blade and touches her daughter, gently, on each shoulder, almost as if she's knighting the girl. Chantal looks deep into her daughter's eyes while chanting in Creole.

It's almost 5 a.m., and Erol has also been seized by Ogou, but Ogou the dealmaker, the politician, the organizer. His face is confident, masculine, hard—so different from the tender, almost maternal look that he had when he was helping Chantal a few hours earlier. Then he slips out of the spell.

He gulps a mouthful of rum and blows it around the room in a large, misty spray. He walks over to Chantal, swigs some rum, and sprays some on her. She is holding the machete in front of her, its blade inches from her face. Without a word, Erol calmly takes the machete from her hand and passes it to a woman standing nearby. He embraces Chantal, and she, too, slips out of the trance. The room is quiet.

There is more singing—in soft voices now—and a few candles are lit. The ceremony is over. Erol is physically drained. The spirits have come and gone.

It is 5:30 a.m. The oak-tree-lined street in Hempstead is beginning to stir; lights illuminate windows and people in suits walk to the cars parked in their driveways to begin their commute to work.

Erol and the others from the basement go outside and stand on the lawn. Erol jokes and chats softly with Florence, while Huguette and the other women shake the fabric of their skirts and cool off in the morning air.

kudos for juno diaz and oscar wao: and rickydoc gon pass on racine, i consider this beneath me

hello world, i been off the grid
lets do some quick catch uo why dont we

1st: nytimes photo from the west indian
day parade in brooklyn - aint she pretty

2nd, junos novel is out - and getting good reviews
the brief and wondrous life of oscar wao

this is good news and bad, good because he did it
bad because juno got his novel out before me

we both been dug in working on longgame novels
and now that junos is out and getting good reviews

im feeling the pressure, yall

juno got his done, juno came thru
this what time magazine had to say

"In 1996 a young Dominican - American writer named Junot Díaz published a slender book of short stories called Drown. It was tender and tough and heartbreaking and all a first book of short stories is supposed to be, and he was hailed as the next great hope of American literature. Then Díaz more or less disappeared for 11 years, long enough for most readers to assume that, like most next great hopes of American literature, he wasn't coming back.

Now he has, and with a book so astoundingly great that in a fall crowded with heavyweights--Richard Russo, Philip Roth--Díaz is a good bet to run away with the field."

it can be done
you go boy

let me see, had a couple other points
seems the mambo racine thing controversy in 2nd gear

went by the rootworkers list the other day
hadnt checked it for a year or so because it

had become a mambo racine all the time fistfight

apparently the parents of the incarcerated skull diggers put out an appeal
for money not to go to racine op but to lawyers hired by the family

they say racine using the money otherwise or something like this
i dont know the details, i was just scanning and i didnt read back thru

but i did notice that my previous post was being used as a indictment on her

and ive since gotten a couple of emails from folk asking me
to join in the hunt but ima pass on that, aint got time for that

i dont want to spend my little limited energies getting
caught up in that dogfight

im retired from frontline organizing - im a busy man
i got to catch up with brother wao

i was moved though when whoever referenced my post
referred to me as the 'respected commentator doc flowers'

i be thinking nobody listening

speaking of skulls i dont know what to say about this article i ran across
in the la times recently, obviously i dont approve of graveyard activity

but i know some paleros who would probably be offended by the tone of this piece
i dont know enuf to comment on this articles claims so i will just put it on here whole

it was the politics of santeria in south america i found most fascinating
and it appear to me that its atr ascendency that they really find frightening

the bulk of the accusations i assume to be political, the breathless tone

of the article sound like a very conventional atr (african traditional religion) as evil presentation
very oldschool catholic defense playbook

in my efforts to be a prophetic voice in african traditional religion
some things i would like to say wont fly, graveyard work being one of them

a lot of what we do keeps us on defense
latimes is a signup op so i will put both link and the article here

again, i do not testify, in fact i consider this article suspect
but it does raise some very interesting issues doesnt it

----------------------------

The Dead Dont Rest in Venezuela

A ghoulish crime wave in the Venezuelan capital supplies a black magic cult whose popularity is fueled by faith and politics.

By Chris Kraul, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
September 5, 2007

CARACAS, VENEZUELA -- Skulking in the dead of night in the remote and overgrown Las Pavas section of the Southern Municipal Cemetery, robbers armed with crowbars and sledgehammers first shattered the tomb's concrete vault and the granite marker that read, "To our dear wife and mother in heaven, Maria de la Cruz Aguero."

Then they lifted the coffin lid and stole leg bones and the skull of the woman, who had died Sept. 9, 1993. They sold the bones for $20 each, the skull for as much as $300, said Father Atilio Gonzalez, the cemetery's resident Roman Catholic priest.

Sometimes entire skeletons, particularly those of children, are stolen from crypts in this final resting place of hundreds of thousands of Venezuelans, including three former presidents.

"These unscrupulous people are insulting God and committing a mortal sin," said Gonzalez. He said that graves in the city's largest cemetery are robbed every night, and it's getting worse. "They have perfect liberty to desecrate the tombs because the government does nothing to stop it."

The desecration of the woman's tomb was part of a ghoulish crime wave, including assaults, rapes and dope deals, that has made the cemetery so dangerous that funeral home workers say they carry weapons whenever they have to go there. Parts of the vast cemetery, particularly the remote hillside sections reserved for the poor, are in ruins and choked with weeds, providing perfect cover for thugs and the homeless.

In the past when graves were robbed, the primary objective was to steal personal effects such as jewelry or gold dental fillings, said Odalys Caldera, an investigator in the city's judicial police. Today, thieves are pillaging the graves for darker reasons.

The buyers of the bones are paleros, the practitioners of a black magic cult related to Santeria whose rise in popularity here is fueled by a strange brew of faith and politics.

"Santeria, witchcraft and black magic are much more out in the open now. That's the reason," Caldera said. "Of course the state is aware of the robberies, but hasn't taken the necessary steps to impede them."

Santeria, which combines Catholicism and African and indigenous spiritualism, was brought to the New World by slaves from Africa centuries ago and still thrives, particularly in Cuba, Haiti, Brazil and, increasingly, Venezuela. It is also popular in regions of the United States with strong Caribbean immigrant communities, such as south Florida, Washington and Los Angeles,areas where hundreds of thousands are thought to practice it.

Although most Santeria followers steer clear of the use of human remains and Satanism, the paleros embrace them. They use bones in black magic rituals in which the objective is to cast evil spells on enemies: to induce bad luck for an unfaithful spouse, a car accident for unwanted in-laws, a serious illness for a business competitor, Gonzalez said.

Police, church officials and historians offer a variety of theories for the rise in Santeria generally and of black magic in particular in Venezuela. Some, including anthropologist Rafael Strauss, point to the vacuum left by the Roman Catholic Church, which, as in many other Latin American countries, has lost believers in Venezuela to evangelical and other Protestant religions. Church rolls also are suffering from a lack of interest among younger people.

"We are seeing a new syncretism that is uniting parts of different religions," said Strauss, a retired University of Central Venezuela professor. "It's how people make it easier to meet their spiritual needs."

Gonzalez acknowledged that the country is suffering a crisis in belief.

"People are losing faith," he said. "Instead of assuming responsibility to accomplish something good, they resort to witchcraft, which they see as the easy way."

But others see politics at work. Father Manuel Diaz is a parish priest in the El Hatillo suburb of Caracas where three Santeria babalaos, or shamans, have recently opened centers. He says the government of leftist President Hugo Chavez is encouraging the rise of Santeria to counter the authority of the Catholic Church, which Chavez has viewed as his enemy.

In a pastoral letter to his parishioners last month, Diaz said the government has a "concrete objective, to undermine the authority of the church and align its faithful with certain ideologies." In the letter, he wrote that leaders of the movement to discredit the church were coming from an unnamed "Caribbean country," presumably Cuba.

Although Santeria and other spiritualist religions have been present in Venezuela since Spanish colonial days, the rise of black magic, including that practiced by paleros, is relatively new, said Maria Garcia de Fleury, a comparative religions professor at New Sparta University in Caracas.

"We've always had a little witchcraft, but nothing like what has been unleashed recently," De Fleury said. "This is not Venezuelan."

Without offering hard evidence, De Fleury and some church officials blame the growing presence of Santeria on Cuba, which she says is exporting babalaos along with doctors, teachers and sports trainers to Venezuela as part of closer economic relations with Chavez.

"It's because the government is behind Santeria, promoting it, letting in Cuban babalaos who are proselytizing very actively," De Fleury said.

While not addressing Santeria, Chavez in a February 2003 broadcast of his "Alo Presidente" TV talk show denied that he was a believer in black magic. He is known to be a mystic of sorts, and some say that he believes he is the reincarnation of a 19th century Venezuelan leader, Ezequiel Zamora.

"President Chavez, who knows the mentality of Venezuelans, takes advantage of their magical religious imagery to further his popularity and his revolution," university professor Angelina Pollak-Eltz said in an essay shortly after Chavez took power in 1999.

Yarlin Mejia, a hotel worker who is also a babalao in the  Catia slum of Caracas, said the majority of Santeria believers stay away from witchcraft. "The paleros work for evil," Mejia said. "I do it differently. I work for positive things."

Half a dozen people come every Sunday to Mejia's house, where his ceremonies involve "white magic" -- rituals that aim to help believers attain specific goals, be it a new house, a better job or success at school. A chicken is usually sacrificed. Mejia says interest is growing and attributes it to the presence of Cubans.

"They're everywhere," Mejia said.

-----------------------------

let me take this post out on a good note
t shia asantes website, check it out

a multimodal experience, everybody on
the gun but me

rdoc