Now and Then (9 page)

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Authors: Gil Scott-Heron

BOOK: Now and Then
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(DOT-DOT-DIT-DIT-DOT-DOT-DASH)

Communication has always been an important part of our existence. In Africa we were dependent upon the drummer's rhythm to keep us informed and in touch with villages far up the Nile. As captives, in this country, our contact through the drums was destroyed, but not our need to communicate or our need for independent communications.

For the past couple of years, we have seen a totally new Ghetto Code begin to develop. The primary phrase that has caught on from the code has been ‘Dot-dot-dit-dit-dot-dot- dash.' It means ‘Damned if I know.' Daily there are more and more revelations that make us uncertain of things we thought we were positive about. So: ‘Dot-dot-dit-dit-dot-dot- dash.' Damned if I know.

A good example I might give would be Astrology. Lately, more and more people have been re-investigating Astrology – finding out what their signs and their placements are. That was all well and good until folks found out that somebody had been messing with the calendar. They found out that the month in our calendar called July was slipped in to honor Julius Caesar. They found the month called August had been slipped in to honor Augustus Caesar. They found there was a problem with September because it is the Latin word for
seventh
, but it is the
ninth
month in our calendar. And people familiar with the romance languages jumped all over it – octo means eight, but October is the
tenth
month; nove means nine, but November is
eleventh
; and dece means ten, but December is
twelfth
! ‘Dot-dot-dit-dit- dot-dot-dash.' Damned if I know.

The problem seems to originate in February. It takes at least thirty days to qualify as a month (the precedent having been
established by the other eleven). Yet, February has twenty- eight days three times in a row and if you make the leap year, you get a bonus. ‘Dot-dot-dit-dit-dot-dot-dash.' Damned if I know.

There was another problem with the alphabet. Tracing the origins of the symbols, I found that they were called ‘Alpha Beta' and contained
all
of these symbols from Alphato Omega – that is from beginning to end. From Alpha – the letter a – the beginning, to Omega – the letter q – the end; but they got nine more letters coming after ‘the end.' R-S-T-U-V-W-X-Y-Z. What do I think? ‘Dot dot-dit-dit-dot-dot-dash.' Damned if I know!

The letter that has become my favorite is the letter ‘c.' It is multipurpose, but it does not receive the proper amount of respect. Highly underrated.

The first letter in Cash.

The first letter in Constitution.

The last letter in musiC.

The first letter in C.I.A.

The C.I.A. and F.B.I., noses pressed against our window panes,

Ears glued to our telephones.

Why won't they leave us alone?

Trying to pick up on … the Ghetto Code.

Old fashioned Ghetto codes saw phone

    conversations like this:

‘Hey, Bree-is-other me-is-an? You goin' to the

    pe-is-arty to ne-is-ite?'

Oh, yeah! Well, why not bring me a nee-is-ickel

    be-is-ag? You dig?'

I know who ever they was paying at the time to

listen in on my calls had to be scratchin' his head

sayin', ‘Dot-dot-dit-dit-dot-dot-dash.' (Damned if

I know!)

But as to the letter ‘c.' If it reminds you of cash money, there is a definite connection. The C.I.A. was responsible for the transfer of $400,000,000 to one Howard Hughes. This $400,000,000 (give or take a million or two) was to be used for a covert salvaging mission at sea, to be undertaken by a Hughes seacraft, the Glo-Mar Challenger. This salvage craft would be used to recover a Russian submarine that sank in 1968. The reason the recovery of this submarine was so important to our government was because of the Russian codes on board.

The Russian sub had allegedly broken into three pieces somewhere in the Pacific (which is almost like saying somewhere on the planet Earth). The Glo-Mar located the sub and proceeded to salvage it with, we believe, a giant magnet.

The magnet went down and recovered the first third of the Russian sub, containing some seventy dead Russian sailors. (No advantage there. Considering the sizeable sum allocated and the zero rubles put forth by the Kremlin.) The second part of the sub to be brought to the surface had two Polaris-styled nuclear warheads on board. (No real advantage there. This country has already stockpiled sufficient nuclear weapons to have damn near one bomb for every individual. These recovered Russian weapons could not have made the $400 million difference.) Then comes the strange part of the operation. As preparations were being made to recover the third and final part, the part with the all-important code books on board, questions began to bubble to the surface.

‘The Russian sub went in 1968, right?'

‘We've been trying to find those code books for almost six years now, right?'

‘When you lose your code books, don't you change your codes?'

‘If they've changed their codes, why did we spend all that money?' ‘Dot-dot-dit-dit-dot-dot-dash.' (Damned if I know.)

 

But perhaps your personal problems do not revolve around cash. Perhaps the ‘c' will remind you of Cuba. There was a C.I.A. co-ordinated invasion of Cuba at the Bay of Pigs. The invasion was a total failure, but it did reveal clues that had to do with an assassination attempt on a man whose name starts with ‘c' – Castro.

The ‘c' might remind you of Chile. Over eight million American dollars were spent there by the C.I.A. to help overthrow and destroy a man named Salvador Allende who just happened to be a ‘c' – communist.

The ‘c' might remind you of the Canal. The Panama Canal. The covert base established in Panama by the C.I.A. to institute plans for ‘c' – Columbia eventually led to the destruction of ‘c' – Che Guevara.

The ‘c' might remind you of the Congo. The Belgian Congo. Before Zaire was there, there were revolutionary factions brooding in Katanga province. In 1960, there was a statement from a Black leader indicating the possible requeste d'intervention from the Soviet Union shortly before a coup d'etat that left him dead of assassination. His name? Patrice Lumumba.

A string of questions with few answers. Problems with few solutions like: ‘Was that Lee Harvey Oswald over there? Or in that corner? Was he 5'8”, 165 pounds or 6'2”, 205? Was he
photographed for his passport in Dallas or was that Moscow?

Arthur Bremmer. Was he from Massachusetts, Michigan or Maryland? Was he captured in the midwest or the Middle East? And if they always have a photo of them before they commit these crimes, why can't they stop them?' ‘Dot-dot-dit-dit-dot- dot-dash.' (Damned if I know.)

There seems to have been a stream of too many unanswered questions that always had tracks leading back to the same doorway.

JFK. You believe that?

RFK. You believe that?

MLK. You believe that?

Malcolm X. You believe that?

All some elaborate ‘c' – Coincidence?

Or just a little old ‘c' – Conspiracy?

There are several questions concerning the letter

‘c,' this most important of letters, that most individuals

should be asking themselves:

‘The C.I.A …. who runs that organization?'

And, ‘Who runs this country?'

‘Dot-dot-dit-dit-dot-dot-dash.' (Damned if I know!)

Some people think that America invented the blues

and few people doubt that America is the home of the blues.

And the bluesicians have gone all over the world carrying the

blues message and the world has snapped its fingers and tapped

its feet right along with the blues folks, but

the blues has always been totally American.

As American as apple pie.

As American as the blues.

As American as apple pie.

The question is why …

why should the blues be so at home here?

Well, America provided the atmosphere

America provided the atmosphere for the blues and the blues was born.

The blues was born on the American wilderness,

The blues was born on the beaches where the slave ships docked,

born on the slave man's auction block

The blues was born and carried on the howling wind.

The blues grew up a slave.

The blues grew up as property.

The blues grew up in Nat Turner visions.

The blues grew up in Harriet Tubman courage.

The blues grew up in small town deprivation.

The blues grew up in the nightmares of the white man.

The blues grew up in the blues singing of Bessie and Billie and Ma.

The blues grew up in Satchmo's horn, on Duke's piano

in Langston's poetry, on Robeson's baritone.

The point is … that the blues is grown.

The blues is grown now – fully grown and you can

    trace

the evolution of the blues on a parallel line

with the evolution of this country.

From Plymouth Rock to acid rock.

From 13 states to Watergate,

The blues is grown, but not the home.

The blues is grown, but the country has not.

The blues remembers everything the country forgot. 

It's a Bicentennial year and the blues is

celebrating a birthday, and it's a Bicentennial blues.

America has got the blues and it's a Bicentennial edition.

The blues view may amuse you but make

no mistake – it's a Bicentennial year.

A year of hysterical importance

A year of historical importance:

ripped-off like donated moments from the past.

Two hundred years ago this evening.

Two hundred years ago last evening, and what about now?

The blues is now.

The blues has grown up and the country has not.

The country has been ripped-off!

Ripped-off like the Indians!

Ripped-off like jazz!

Ripped-off like nature!

Ripped-off like Christmas!

Manhandled by media over-kill,

Goosed by aspiring Vice Presidents.

Violated by commercial corporations – A Bicentennial year

The year the symbol transformed into the B-U-Y-centennial.

Buy a car.

Buy a flag.

Buy a map … until the public en masse has been

     bludgeoned into

Bicentennial submission

or Bicentennial suspicion.

I fall into the latter category …

It's a blues year and America

has got the blues.

It's got the blues because of

partial deification of

partial accomplishments over a

partial period of time.

Half-way justice.

Half-way liberty.

Half-way equality.

It's a half-ass year

and we would be silly in all our knowledge,

in all our self-righteous knowledge

When we sit back and laugh and mock the things

that happen in our lives;

to accept anything less than the truth

about this Bicentennial year. 

And the truth relates to two hundred years of

people and ideas getting by!

It got by George Washington!

The ideas of justice, liberty and equality got cold

by George Washington.

Slave owner general!

Ironic that the father of this country

should be a slave owner.

The father of this country a slave owner

having got by him

it made it easy to get by his henchmen,

the creators of this liberty,

who slept in bed with the captains of the slave

    ships,

Fought alongside Black freed men in the Union Army,

and left America a legacy of hypocrisy.

It's blues year.

Got by Gerald Ford! 

Oatmeal Man.

Has declared himself at odds with people

on welfare … people who get food stamps,

day care children, the elderly, the poor, women

    and

people who might vote for Ronald Reagan.

Ronald Reagan — it got by him. Hollyweird!

Acted like an actor

acted like a liberal

acted like General Franco, when he acted like

Governor of California.

Now he acts like somebody might vote for him

    for President.

It got by Jimmy Carter,

‘Skippy.'

Got by Jimmy Carter and got by him and his

    friend

the Colonel … the creators of southern fried

    triple talk,

A blues trio.

America got the blues.

It got by Henry Kissinger

the international Godfather of peace.

A Piece of Vietnam!

A Piece of Laos!

A Piece of Angola!

A Piece of Cuba!

A blues quartet and America got the blues.

The point is that it may get by you

for another four years

for another eight years … you stuck playing

    second fiddle in a blues quartet.

Got the blues looking for the first principle

which was justice.

It's a blues year for justice.

It's a blues year for the San Quentin Six, looking

    for justice.

It's a blues year for Gary Tyler, looking for justice.

It's blues year for Rev. Ben Chavis, looking for

    justice.

It's a blues year for Boston, looking for justice.

It's a blues year for babies on buses,

It's a blues year for mothers and fathers with

babies on buses.

It's a blues year for Boston and it's a blues year

all over this country.

America has got the blues and the blues is

in the street looking for three principles—

justice, liberty, equality.

We would do well to join the blues looking for

justice, liberty, and equality.

The blues is in the street.

America has got the blues but don't let it get by us.

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