Postcard from Retiring Guy's collection
Price Cobbs, Who Helped Define ‘Black Rage,’ Is Dead at 89. (The New York Times, 7/10/2018)
The result was “Black Rage,” published a few months after the assassination of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and in the midst of a decade marked by rioting in Newark, Detroit, Los Angeles and elsewhere.
“Aggression leaps from wounds inflicted and ambitions spiked,” they wrote. “It grows out of oppression and capricious cruelty. It is logical and predictable if we know the soil from which it comes.”
That soil was slavery.
And now for something only peripherally related -- a letter from a friend I recieve at the beginning of what would end up a shortened spring semester 1970.
It's a swinging afternoon at work, I'm ready to fall asleep on my typewriter so I think I'd better write for awhile. You almost had two little smiling faces there to cheer things up Saturday afternoon. We were going to knock on your door and yell -- "Let's go to the Palace!" I'm sure you and Kenny would have freaked out if we showed up. No! No! Go home!! What a weekend this was, let me tell you -- zero! Friday nite we worked on our decoupages and talked and talked and talked about going away (like what's new in the last six month?) Then we went over to sleep at Mardi's and Bill's on the phone and we're all there yakking away, getting nothing settled of course. Now that we've both given notice at work, time is running out. I think Mardi will end up going to Minneapolis and live with Bill till spring and I mostly probably to Boston. Why can't we do anything original?? Why, oh why. I was all psyched to go to Denver and to California but Bill's all involved with a new job now, etc. etc. I hope for her sake that Mardi is sure, really sure about this - I don't know -- I'm not going to give her any grief about it. There might be a bright side to all this SHIT -- how does it fell to be settled in school and not wondering about the future -- duh! I remember my sophomore year all I worried about was the next paper that was due, the next basketball game or kegger -- hey, I was cool. (Don't let anybody ever tell you, you're cool!!!)
Oh well, we did have a jolly good time last weekend with you guys. I think we're all slightly warped: God, that was unreal. We are a bunch of duds, laying around drinking ourselves under the table. Hey, clean!
I really clonked out on the bus on the way home -- if there's one thing I hate, it's coming home all the time.
Well, what else is new around here. Joan was home this weekend. I talked to her about 10 minutes but didn't see her. She won't be home again till Easter and I won't be around then so that's that. I guess Freddie goes in the Reserves in two weeks. If Piccirillo pulls this one off she'll be a genius, I don't know how she's going to do it. What do you hear from Mike? Did he win the election or whatever -- Mike Foster as president of a "cool": fraternity -- wow! Groovy! Where's my letter sweater?
When are you coming home -- I have this duh! feeling about going now. Like, I don't mind going to Boston but I'm not really thrilled about i -- I don't like the idea of going alone but I imagine I'll do it. Bla-ah, why can't it be summer, spring, fall -- ? Would love to go somewhere warm pretty soon. I wish I could get Mardi's ass moving. I just don't understand her nowadays. What, what, what is the problem??? Hey, we're stable. Normal.
Think I'll close now. Now that I"m at work I guess I should do home work -- doo-doo-doo -- I'll go find something to do. Peace, take care, say hi to Kenny -- hope we see you soon.
P.S. I even gave up smoking Larks last week for 2 days -- I must be really blah or something.
P.P.S. The collage will get done this week!