About Tom Tillison

Tom is a grassroots activist who distinguished himself as one of the top conservative bloggers in Florida before joining BizPac Review. He can be reached at tom@bizpacreview.com

Robinson particularly emphasizes “the cost of [an] obstructed view of ourselves.” “We hate ourselves. [W]e don’t know what has happened to us and no one will tell us. Thus we have concluded that the fault must be ours.” Ignorance of their glorious African ancestors holds back black children: “[A]chievement gaps cannot be fully closed until Americans — all Americans — are repaired in their views of Africa’s role in history ... blacks need to know the land of their forebears when its civilizations were verifiably equal to any in the world” — as if American children were not already overburdened with exaggerations and lies about black achievement.

 

Mr. Robinson’s main argument for reparations is therefore psychological. As he explains, reparations would tell blacks: “You are owed. You were caused to endure terrible things. The fault is not yours. There is nothing wrong with you.” Reparations will “heal our psyches.” Not that Mr. Robinson would turn his back on tangible compensation. He admits, as if conceding nothing: “Oh, we often like its [America’s] wealth, its abundance of commodities, its markets of endless stuff,” and insists that blacks be made whole economically. Although he coyly declines to name a sum, he asks whites to fork over the riches unjustly extracted from black labor, not only from slavery but sharecropping and capitalism itself, which “starts each child where its parents left off.” He claims that the mean net worth of college-educated whites exceeds that of college-educated blacks by $50,000, and puts the difference for blue-collar blacks and whites at $12,000. He also claims discrimination in mortgage lending costs each generation of blacks $93 billion in lost equity (The Debt has a few pages of “sources” but no footnotes, so there is no telling where these figures come from).

Because he insists that “achievement differences that correlate with race must never be tolerated,” it would cost trillions of dollars to close the gaps he complains about. On top of that, Robinson wants special (white) taxpayer-funded schools for black children and free college tuition for all poor blacks “for at least two generations.” Finally, America “must dramatically reconfigure its symbolized picture of itself, to itself. Its national parks, museums, monuments, statues, artworks must be recast in a way to include ... African Americans.” The US must also cancel all debts to African countries and offer “significant monetary compensation” for having stolen “tens of millions” of their young men.

When will white liability end? Never. “Social rights, wrongs, obligations, and responsibilities flow eternal.” And what will happen if whites don’t come across? “Those others, who fifty years from now will form the majority of America’s citizens, will be inspired to punish them for it.”

As in many similar tirades, a striking feature of The Debt is Holocaust envy. Robinson is bursting with resentment that Germany compensated Jews for a mere twelve years of suffering, while blacks endured 246 years (sometimes he says 234 years) of slavery without a penny to show for it. And Jews got to keep their culture, while blacks “had never been allowed to glimpse the complex whole of the ancient self.” Lucky, lucky Jews. He apes Jewish grievances so far as to demand the return of “Africa’s looted art treasures” — an irony, given the huge but so far unsuccessful effort by American cultural institutions to interest whites in African art.

The weaknesses of Mr. Robinson’s case are obvious. Even if whites had caused black failure, they are already paying restitution in the form of racial preferences. For 35 years blacks have gotten jobs, scholarships and college admissions they did not deserve, but Mr. Robinson hurries past affirmative action in a few sentences and then pretends it does not exist. Nor does he acknowledge the enormous transfer of resources from whites to blacks through welfare and public education — nor the white wealth destroyed by black crime. A proper balancing of the books would have blacks owing whites.

In any case, blacks do poorly economically and academically because of their impulsiveness, low IQ and high illegitimacy rates, traits almost certainly due to genetic factors, not white misdeeds. At one point Mr. Robinson himself has a glimpse of this hard truth. Recounting a trip to Cuba — he greatly admires Fidel Castro — he notes: “White Cubans still appear very much to have the better of things. They dominate political power. They are generally better off economically.” Robinson explains the persistence of inequality despite 40 years of totalitarian efforts to end it as “a bequest of the Moors,” whatever that may mean. A simpler answer is that not even dictators can suppress nature.

At one point Mr. Robinson himself has a glimpse of the hard truth about IQ.

Mr. Robinson’s nervy demands should not goad us to the other extreme of absolving whites completely. Slavery was wrong, and while blacks may have fared better as slaves in America than as slaves in Africa, a wrong that accidentally helps its victim is still a wrong. Slave owners did owe something. Still, slavery was legal in its day, and compensation could only have been extracted by unjust, ex post facto laws. Moreover, there was slavery in Africa long before it came to America, and virtually every black who crossed the Atlantic was captured and sold to whites by fellow blacks. Why not send their descendants a bill, too? However unjust slavery may have been, it ended a century and a half ago and has no current significance. It is time to bury the past.

It is worth emphasizing the full awfulness of Mr. Robinson’s writing. On poverty: “We are virtually numb now to our global position of economic bottomness. In the refuge of our subculture, we have disguised enfeebled self-images in the escapist behaviors of people who would angrily deny the massive loss of self-confidence.” On politics: “The intramural tango of bitsy Democratic palliatives and itsy-bitsy Republican palliatives does little more than divert attention and siphon energy as a recondite rot steals up inexorably from the underside, narrowing our practical freedoms and troubling our tenuous contentment. A tangle of nameless, nebulous thoughts clamor for description, while I struggle even to hear myself think in the face of the public career types with their heads vised in a thoroughly disproved orthodoxy, their voices claiming variety but in fact chiming in a tedium of pointless concern, their eyes all blinkered, and their feet long set upon the easy path.”

There are a few excellent black writers, but jumbles like this are all too typical of black intellectuals. What sort of disordered mind produces them? More urgently, how can whites — accustomed to language that communicates rather than wears down — deal with such minds? At the very least, whites must recognize that they face something fundamentally alien.

Michael Levin is Professor of Philosophy at City College and the Graduate Center of the City University of New York.

Posted by

Partial transcript as follows:

HANNITY: Here with reaction, author, columnist Ann Coulter. To me, the vet story is at the top, and the fact that there's no sense of urgency here. But then you got the outing of a CIA agent, and which really put him and his family at risk, and you don't see the same outrage when Valerie Plame, who was not a covert agent, was outed. That angers me. You know, what could happen next, Ann Coulter?

COULTER: Well, I'm looking forward to Valerie Plame's statement of outrage on this incident, and her useless husband. Maybe she'll get so angry that she'll force him to get a job. I agree the VA -- but Democrats never care about foreign policy, as I've said many times. They consider it an irrelevancy. What they want to do is socialize everything, like health care. And you see with the VA scandal why Republicans don't want the government running everything, anything run by the government. It can be these veterans' hospitals. It can be the IRS. It can be, you know, the National Science Foundation. It will be useless, inefficient. The people who are supposed to be doing their jobs will be sitting, watching pornography.

That's how the government works, which is why we want to give as little as possible to the government to do. I mean, even the Pentagon, even the Defense Department is constantly being ripped off by scamsters. And you know, the $300 ashtray, or was it $300,000? I don't even remember. We know there's going to be waste and inefficiency. That's why you limit the federal government to doing only those things...

HANNITY: Let me ask you this...

COULTER: ... only the federal government can do. But no, we're all going to be getting the same health care the vets are getting, under "Obama care."

HANNITY: But that's the point. The obvious answer, if they had any sense of urgency, is every vet should be allowed to go to any hospital they want and get immediate care so that no other vets die because of this incompetence. But wouldn't that destroy the left narrative that they're capable of running health care? Wouldn't that put a big hole in their big argument?

COULTER: Well, yes! I mean, all these left-wing economists, including Paul Krugman, cited the VA hospital system as the model for socialized medicine and "Obama care." And isn't it going to be fantastic, and it runs so well. No, we knew it wouldn't run well. We knew it would run like the VA hospitals, anyone who knows anything about VA hospitals.

How about letting us all go to whatever doctor we want to, and how about letting us all go to whatever hospital we want, instead of destroying health insurance in America, which is what "Obama care" does? It simply -- it has -- it has -- it has made health insurance illegal, and instead, we have a welfare system that we pay for through our insurance premiums, which makes "Obama care" the most regressive tax in world history. I pay the same health care premium as Michael Bloomberg does, and he has a lot more money than I do.

At least with other programs to pay for people who can't pay for themselves, there's a general welfare program. People, you know, are taxed according to their income. There's one central program. No, here I'm going to pay for everyone else's health care and their smoking cessation programs...

HANNITY: Yes.

COULTER: ... and marital counseling and everything else through my insurance premium, which is not only astronomical, but prevents me from going to the doctor I want to and the hospital I want to! And why does this affect me and not most people watching right now? Because those waivers are working.

People are going to go to the voting booth this November without realizing that their health insurance is about to be made illegal, they will not be able to go to the doctor they want, they will not be able to go the hospitals they want. It's only the individual self-employed like myself, a few million in America, who are already subject to the provisions of "Obama care"!

HANNITY: I would actually suggest they set up a hotline for vets, or a Web site. But we know that's impossible for them to pull off. So...

COULTER: Well, also, what are you going to do, do that for the entire country? We're all going to be under government-run health care!

HANNITY: Well, I'm saying in the immediate -- in the short term, we got help the vets. But in the long term, that ought to wake up every American. If they'll do this to American vets, they'll do that to every American, which is your point!

COULTER: Yes.

HANNITY: And it will happen.

Follow Jeff Poor on Twitter @jeff_poor

---------

Hans-Hermann Hoppe (Hoppe@Mises.com) is professor of economics at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. Read and sign the Hoppe Victory Blog. Post Comments on the main blog.

A tip ‘o the hate to Ilana Mercer.

Maya Angelou dead: Celebrated author, poet, dies at age 86 in North Carolina

Renaissance woman Maya Angelou, the award-winning writer, poet, actress and civil rights activist, was found dead Wednesday morning inside her Winston-Salem, N.C., home.

The 86-year-old icon, who survived a childhood rape that left her mute to find a voice heard around the world, was discovered by her caretaker, according to an announcement from Wake Forest University.

Angelou lived in an 18-room home on the campus, where she taught American Studies. [Whoever heard of such luxury for a faculty member, let alone one who probably hadn’t taught or done anything else in years?]

The increasingly frail Angelou was battling heart problems, and recently canceled her appearance at an event in her honor scheduled for this Friday.

The oft-lauded Angelou was set to received the “Beacon of Life Award” as part of major league baseball’s annual Civil Rights Games.

Angelou was a Pulitzer Prize nominee and repeat White House guest, reading the poem “On the Pulse of Morning” at President Bill Clinton’s 1993 inauguration.

The original composition was published and sold more than one million copies.

The nation’s first black president, Barack Obama, honored her in February 2011 with a Medal of Freedom — planting a kiss on her cheek inside the White House.

In her last post via Twitter, Angelou offered one parting bit of advice: “Listen to yourself and in that quietude you might hear the voice of God.”

The best-selling St. Louis native, during her remarkable lifetime, published more than 30 titles and received more than 50 honorary degrees.
 


Armstrong Williams recalls Dr. Maya Angelou interview on Boko Haram
 

Her breakthrough book was her best-selling 1970 memoir, “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings,” a work encouraged by her novelist friend James Baldwin.

The book made literary history as the first non-fiction best-seller by an African-American woman, and became the first of six autobiographical works.

She continued to break down barriers with her writing, penning the screenplay and the score for the 1972 film “Georgia, Georgia.”

She was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize that same year for her poetry collection “Just Give Me a Drink of Cool Water’ fore I Diiie.”

During her extraordinary eight-plus decades of life, Angelou was often on the front lines of history and pop culture.

She was mentored by Baldwin, and mentored Oprah Winfrey. She worked for both Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr., and befriended Nelson Mandela.

She earned an Emmy nomination for her work in “Roots,” and studied modern dance with Martha Graham.

The 1968 assassination of King occurred on her April 4 birthday, and she stopped celebrating the event for years afterward. Angelou would instead send flowers to King’s widow, Coretta.

Mrs. King, until her death in 2006, would in turn send flowers to Angelou.

Born Marguerite Annie Johnson, the future writer grew up amid poverty and racism after a divorce relocated the child to small town Stamps, Ark., where she lived with her brother and grandmom.

Despite the hard times, Angelou long maintained that living in the Deep South also imbued her with the faith and values of the African-American family and culture.

As she wrote in her memoir, Angelou was raped by her mother’s boyfriend when she was just seven years old. Her uncles then murdered the man in retribution.

The small girl, convinced she was to blame for the killing, stopped speaking for five years.

During that time, she became a voracious reader of writers from William Shakespeare to Edgar Allan Poe to W.E.B. Du Bois and Langston Hughes.

The precocious talent began writing her earliest poems at age 9, and graduated at the top of her eighth-grade class.

Angelou wrote about the women [sic] who convinced her to speak again in the 1986 children’s book “Mrs. Flowers: A Moment of Friendship.”

Her early adulthood was tumultuous: A single mother at 17, work in a strip club, as a waitress and a cook; running a brothel; marriage and divorce.

She was also San Francisco’s first African-American female cable-car conductor.

[So she claimed--at 14!]
 

But Angelou’s artistic side soon emerged, and she landed a gig singing in San Francisco’s Purple Onion cabaret. Billie Holliday once sang a sweet lullaby to her son Guy, and gave his mom a back-handed compliment.

“You’re going to be famous,” she said. “But it won’t be for singing.”

By the mid-‘50s, Angelous was touring Europe in a production of “Porgy and Bess.” She later studied dance with Graham, and performed with Alvin Ailey.

There was even a 1957 Angelou album, “Calypso Lady.” She later captured three Grammys for her spoken word albums.

She relocated to Africa in 1960, and met Malcolm X while in Ghana. She took a job with the charismatic leader and returned to the states — and Malcolm was assassinated in Manhattan.

Her breakthrough memoir followed the dark days after the King killing in Memphis.

Baldwin brought the mourning Angelou to a party, which led to an introduction to a Random House editor. Baldwin supported her in the process, and the stunning result was “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”

The book covered her life from birth to the birth of her son, Guy.

Her final autobiographical volume, “A Song Flung up to Heaven,” was published in 2002.

lmcshane@nydailynews.com
 

Maya Angelou, Racist Literary and Political Fraud (Biography)
Re-posted by Nicholas Stix

The writing in this DTN profile is surprisingly restrained. It cites many of Angelou/Johnson's evils, but without denouncing her. I learned a great deal from it, or so I initially thought. However, one important aspect of her life that it left out was that she is a literary fraud. According a report I read about 10 years ago, researchers sought to track down the people Angelou talked about in her first (and for all I knew, only) autobiography, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, but couldn't find a single one.

I then read the controversial review black nationalist Wanda Coleman wrote (reprinted  below) in 2002 of Angelou's "autobiography," A Song Flung Up to Heaven, in which Coleman maintains that Angelou's black nationalist and civil rights activism were also fictional. At this point, I'm not sure that there's anything coming out of Angelou's pen or mouth that can be believed.
 

The Leftist Worldview of Maya Angelou

By Discover the Networks



"A black person grows up in this country — and in many places — knowing that racism [white people] will be as familiar as salt to the tongue."
 

• African-American poet, novelist and playwright
• Civil rights activist who worked with both Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X
• Supporter of many left-wing icons and causes, including Fidel Castro, Mumia Abu-Jamal, affirmative action, and the Kyoto Protocol
• Views America as a nation rife with racism

Maya Angelou was born Marguerite Ann Johnson in St. Louis, Missouri, on April 4, 1928. At the age of eight, she was sexually abused by her mother's boyfriend, an experience that had a profound psychological impact on the girl. A few years later, Angelou won a scholarship to study dance and drama at San Francisco's Labor School, but she dropped out at age 14 to take a job as a cable-car conductor. She later returned to finish high school, and gave birth to her son just a few weeks after graduation. In her late teens, Angelou spent time working as both a prostitute and madam.

In subsequent years, Angelou established a reputation as a skilled actress and dancer. In the mid to late 1950s, the Harlem Writers' Guild helped her develop her literary talents. Angelou also participated extensively in the civil-rights movement, helping Malcolm X build his Organization of African American Unity and serving as northern coordinator for Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Southern Christian Leadership Conference.

In the early 1960s, Angelou championed Fidel Castro's rise to power in Cuba. Her first published story appeared in the Cuban periodical Revolucion. In September 1960, she was deeply moved by the sight of Castro's exhuberantly warm public embrace of Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev in New York, where both men were attending a United Nations session. "The Russians were O.K.," Angelou later reminisced. "Of course, Castro never had called himself white, so he was O.K. from the git. Anyhow … as black people often said, 'Wasn't no Communist country that put my grandpappa in slavery. Wasn't no Communist lynched my poppa or raped my mamma.'"

Also in the early Sixties, Angelou supported the anti-South African apartheid movement and worked as a journalist and editor in Egypt and Ghana.

During the ensuing decades, Angelou gained enormous renown for her writing. She authored seven autobiographies—most famously, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1969)—as well as several collections of essays, theatrical works, and volumes of poetry. In 1993, at the request of president-elect Bill Clinton, Angelou composed an original poem, titled "On the Pulse of the Morning," which she read at Clinton's inauguration.

In 1994 the NAACP presented Angelou with the prestigious Spingarn Medal, which has been described as the "African American Nobel Prize." In 2009 Angelou was again honored by the NAACP, receiving an Image Award for her book, Letter to my Daughter.

In 1995 Angelou spoke at the Million Man March organized by Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan. That same year, she lent her support to the convicted cop-killer and former Black Panther, Mumia Abu-Jamal. Indeed, Angelou joined such luminaries as Alec Baldwin, Derrick Bell, Noam Chomsky, Spike Lee, and Norman Mailer in signing a full-page New York Times ad advocating a new trial for Abu-Jamal.

In a 1997 interview, Angelou lamented: "A black person grows up in this country -- and in many places -- knowing that racism will be as familiar as salt to the tongue." Reasoning from that premise, she lauded affirmative action and Head Start as programs that were not only "good for the country" but quite necessary—because, she said, "the playing field" had been "terribly unlevel, terribly unfair for centuries." In the same interview, Angelou was asked if she thought "our free-market system—capitalism itself—creates divisions and inequality," to which she replied: "Yes. Absolutely. Unfortunately, I can't find many other 'isms' that don't do the same thing."

In 1998 Angelou issued a public service announcement in support of a National Council of Churches campaign to persuade the U.S. Senate to ratify the Kyoto Protocol as a means of combating global warming.

In March 2006 Angelou participated in a New York City event honoring the late Rachel Corrie, an American anti-Israel activist who had been accidentally killed while trying to block an Israeli anti-terror operation in 2003. Angelou praised Corrie as a "peace lover" who possessed exceptional "courage." Others who spoke at the New York gathering included Anthony Arnove, Huwaida Arraf, Brian Avery, Eve Ensler, Hedy Epstein, Amy Goodman, Vanessa Redgrave, Ora Wise, Howard Zinn, and James Zogby.

During the 2008 Democratic presidential primaries, Angelou initially threw her support behind Hillary Clinton, saying: "I am inspired by Hillary Clinton's commitment and courage ... a daughter, a wife, a mother ... my girl." Angelou shifted her allegiance to Barack Obama, however, when the latter emerged as the Democratic nominee.

Four years later, Angelou passionately supported Obama's re-election bid, saying: "I think he has done a remarkable job, knowing how much he has been opposed…. Every suggestion he makes, the Republicans en masse fight against him or don't vote at all." In a campaign email she authored on Obama's behalf, Angelou stated: "[S]ince President Barack Obama's historic election, we've moved forward in courageous and beautiful ways. More students can afford college, and more families have access to affordable health insurance. Women have greater opportunities to get equal pay for equal work."

As the 2012 presidential election neared, Angelou predicted that Obama's detractors would inevitably give voice to their own inner racism: "I tell you we are going to see some nastiness, some vulgarity, I think. They'll pull the sheets off." In a 2012 interview with activist and MSNBC television host Al Sharpton, Angelou derided Obama's critics as "stupid," "thick," and "dense" people "who want to keep us polarized."

Also in 2012, Angelou was a keynote speaker at the national conference of the Children's Defense Fund.

In July 2013 Angelou spoke out about the recent acquittal of George Zimmerman, a "white Hispanic" man who had shot and killed a black Florida teenager named Trayvon Martin in a high-profile 2012 altercation. Lamenting that the jury verdict showed "how far we have to go" as a nation, Angelou said that the many protests which were being held on behalf of the dead teen were reminiscent of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech.

For additional information on Maya Angelou, click here.
 

Coulda Shoulda Woulda: Wanda Coleman's Review of Maya Angelou's A Song Flung Up to Heaven
The American Dissident
April 14 (2002?)

A SONG FLUNG UP TO HEAVEN
By Maya Angelou
Random House: 214 pp., $23.95

While many American poets have languished, regardless of race, creed, color or excellence, the savvy and ever-seductive 74-year-old Marguerite Johnson, a.k.a. Maya Angelou, has parlayed statuesque looks and modest talents as actress-dancer-singer into a 30-year role on the literary stage that is, indeed, phenomenal. In 1993, at the behest of President Clinton, she became the second poet in U.S. history to recite an original poem at an inauguration. Few poets can spark a smidgen of the controversy generated in 2001 by Angelou's undisclosed cut of the estimated $50-million in sales for writing greeting card verse, a pursuit for which she is superbly suited. Purportedly the final installment of her serial autobiography, "A Song Flung Up to Heaven," appears only a few months after the first of her Hallmark card line and seems calculated to encompass celebrations of Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday, African American history month, National Women's month as well as her 74th birthday this month, National Poetry Month.

It might be assumed that Angelou would take her honorary doctoral degrees, make a graceful bow and retire from the literary round table with celebrated reputation intact. Alas, a dignified departure is not the trait of the greedy when one more traipse to the trough is offered. Once again, Angelou dips into her past to offer up an emotional repast that would starve a skeleton.

I vented my bias against celebrity autobiographies at the outset of a favorable review of Angelou's "All God's Children Need Traveling Shoes" (Book Review, Aug. 13, 1986), in which I stated that I usually find them "self-aggrandizements and/or flushed-out elaborations of scanty press packets." Relieved, I summarized "Shoes" as "a thoroughly enjoyable segment from the life of a celebrity!"

No can do with "Song." "Song" is a sloppily written fake, bloated to 214 pages by large type and widely spaced chapter headings, more than half its 33 chapters averaging two to four pages.

Powers exhibited in "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" have deserted her in "Song." Her titillating confessions and coquettish allusions come off as redundant and hollow old tricks. She not only engages in her usual name-dropping but shockingly makes that the book's content. Shamelessly, she cannibalizes the reputations of three major black figures: Malcolm X (Al-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz), James Baldwin and King Jr., using them as linchpins on which to promote her specious pose as an activist.

"Song" opens with Angelou's return to the United States from Ghana in 1964, a time when she looked to plunk herself into the sociopolitical fray. She spends time in San Francisco, in Hawaii and in L.A. (west of the Harbor Freeway, where whites were the majority) before moving to New York City, living above the concerns of a new generation of angry young blacks.

With unflinching piety, she skips her days as a dancer and restyles herself as a militant, fostering the illusion that she was at the core of the civil rights and black power movements. Rather than substantiate this, Angelou plays the adolescent game of being the first to tattle on others when one is guilty: "The same people who don't give a damn now will lie and say they always supported him [Malcolm X]." Throughout "Song," Malcolm's name is a mantra as Angelou smokily extols "the importance of his life and of his death" without exposition. She has forgotten the swift reliability of the 1960s underground grapevine. Had she joined the Organization of African-American Unity (I belonged to the Compton branch), it would have been news coast to coast. The dead (including Malcolm's widow, Betty Shabazz, who died tragically in June 1997) cannot contradict her--which may partly explain the 16-year lapse between "Shoes" and "Song."

Meanwhile, Angelou artfully plays the race card, like the muse Euterpe or Sister Flute, coochie-cooing admirers out of shirts and socks, transforming bigots into simpering ninnies and academic cowardice into five-figure honorariums.

If "Caged Bird" put Angelou at the fore of those braving fiction's devices to enhance their truths, in "Song" she regresses, making it a textbook example of the danger inherent in that technique: misinterpretation. For example, taken alone, Chapter 19 might approximate any single woman's search for work on hostile turf but, when wedded to Chapter 25, it becomes a "choose" in street parlance--straight out of novelist Iceberg Slim--making Angelou, in her 30s, seem less the ingenue ward and more the procurer when setting up her benefactor with a lady friend.
Ever age-conscious, Angelou relies on innuendo and inference to blur time, avoiding dates, locales and other details, thus muddling events, as in "Caged Bird" when recounting the excitement generated by a Joe Louis fight. Angelou scrambles Louis' June 25, 1935 bout with Primo Carnera (she was 7) with his June 22 championship bout with Max Schmeling three years later. Likewise, in Chapter 9 of "Song," the book's lengthiest, Angelou bizarrely mangles the Watts riots of August 1965. After exclaiming "the cry of 'burn baby burn' was loud in the land" in 1964 (the phrase was the signature of KGFJ disc jockey Magnificent Montague, unheard nationwide until after the riots), she patronizingly defends residents with whom she is unable to identify, tiptoeing down to Watts to see the devastation.

In writing that is bad to God-awful, "Song" is a tell-all that tells nothing in empty phrases and sweeping generalities. Dead metaphors ("sobbing embrace," "my heart fell in my chest") and clumsy similes ("like the sound of buffaloes running into each other at rutting time") are indulged. Twice-told crises (being molested, her son's auto accident) are milked for residual drama.

Extravagant statements come without explication, and schmooze substitutes for action. Her most intriguing character, "The African," is underdeveloped. She softly decries racism in between snipes at those who marginally offended her during her "rise" (Eldridge Cleaver, a white woman at a party). Tiresomely, she repeats her mother's homilies when not issuing her own. There is too much coulda shoulda woulda.

Unfortunately, the Maya Angelou of "A Song Flung Up to Heaven" seems small and inauthentic, without ideas, wisdom or vision. Something is being flung up to heaven all right, but it isn't a song.

* * *
From 'A Song Flung Up to Heaven'

Rosa and Dolly and I traveled to Stockton to spend a last weekend with my mother before returning to New York.

She cooked and laughed and drank and told stories and generally pranced around her pretty house, proud of me, proud of herself, proud of Dolly and Rosa.

She said black women are so special. Few men of any color and even fewer white women can deal with how fabulous we are.

'Girls, I'm proud of you.'

In the early morning, I took my yellow pad and ballpoint pen and sat down at my mother's kitchen table.

I thought about black women and wondered how we got to be the way we were. In our country, white men were always in superior positions; after them came white women, then black men, then black women, who were historically on the bottom stratum.

How did it happen that we could nurse a nation of strangers, be maids to multitudes of people who scorned us, and still walk with some majesty and stand with a degree of pride?

I thought of human beings, as far back as I had read, of our deeds and didoes.

According to some scientists, we were born to forever crawl in swamps, but for some not yet explained reason, we decided to stand erect and, despite gravity's pull and push, to remain standing. We, carnivorous beings, decided not to eat our brothers and sisters but to try to respect them. And further, to try to love them.

And some naturally bellicose creatures decided to lay down our swords and shields and to try to study war no more.

Some of us heard the singing of angels, harmonies in a heavenly choir, or at least the music of the spheres.

We had come so far from where we started, and weren't nearly approaching where we had to be, but we were on the road to becoming better.

I thought if I wrote a book, I would have to examine the quality in the human spirit that continues to rise despite the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

Rise out of physical pain and the psychological cruelties.

Rise from being victims of rape and abuse and abandonment to the determination to be no victim of any kind.

Rise and be prepared to move on and ever on.

I remembered a children's poem from my mute days in Arkansas that seemed to say however low you perceive me now, I am headed for higher ground.

I wrote the first line in the book, which would become "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings."

"What you looking at me for. I didn't come to stay."

Peter Brimelow

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