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The other day sitting in court I saw an old Black gentleman hauled up from the tombs.

His appearance before the court was brief.

The judge was Black, young enough to be his daughter, his grand-daughter.

Then he was told his appearance was over.

He had been interrupted mid-sentence.

He said, “I’m speaking to the judge.”

The judge had that smile on her face people have when they are not listening.

Just waiting for us to finish so the system can proceed.

I’ve often seen that smile.

His words had that natural poetry that only comes when the words spoken are true.

The guards, a young man and woman, shoved him roughly down the stairs, back to the tombs.

There was no need for that. He was moving.

Their treatment turned him into a slave, someone to be roughly handled.

To his grace he did not respond with anger.

He descended into the pit from which he had momentarily been drawn.

Perhaps he thought the judge being Black like him would listen.

He was wrong.

The judge had become part of the Borg.

She had been assimilated.

Black, brown, red, white, yellow it does not matter.

Once they get the kids in their schools they make most of them part of the Borg.

Only 2% escape.

They are called the bad kids, the ones beyond help.

“It’s impossible,” said Johann Fichte, to erase the disobedience gene in people who’ve learned to think for them self.”

Only 2% of the population learns to think for them self.

Only 2% will never be part of the Borg.

Their parents are told their kid has dyslexia.

That’s a twenty dollar word designed to make being bright sound like a disease.

It ain’t.

I wondered why the Judge had not spoken when she saw this man old enough to be her grandfather so rudely treated.

Then I realized she had been assimilated.

She was part of the Borg.

Not all who sit on that bench are part of the Borg.

2% are not.

“Why didn’t you speak?” I asked myself.

I am speaking now.

I am bearing witness.

He was of the generation that has seen and remembered.

She is of the generation that has not.

Soon among the Black, the brown, the red, the white, the yellow there will be none left who remember.

Then Jesus will return.

–Reg Hartt 2019–09–17.

·         “Most teachers say you should go to school to get your degree to have something to fall back on. Aside from being a huge lie, that also creates a very high level of mediocrity, because nobody who really believes that is going to take the leap of faith required to be a serious artist. Stay out of school.”–Ellis Marsalis to his sons Branford, Delfeayo and Wynton.




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