So that you know without—. And it was fascinating to read and notice that, that the atmosphere was drained of color.
That if you just simply did what Judy Garland did and open the door—. Well, not quite that simple [ laughs ], but they were not under the control of the authoritarian of the black town that had grown almost like the enemies they were running from, where they were excluded themselves. And so they translated that into the superiority of blackness and control and maleness and authoritarian.
There are a few men in the town that do, but the major ones, you know, who run that town, get together and slaughter them. I mean, there are lots of places in the world where this happens. See, my thing is this. I think that in the beginning [ laughs ], you know, there were a lot of female gods, goddesses, in the early civilizations, because men thought that women just gave birth. Whenever they felt like it or wherever it was due. And then they began to farm.
And they had domesticated animals, and domesticated animals could reproduce in three months. Or one month. Short time. We are. Without us, nothing!
So all the gods changed names. There was some little girly gods around. That came a little bit later. What I was most interested in—I looked at these histories of the black towns in Oklahoma, and out west, and in Kansas, and there were pictures in newspapers of men who were mayors or whatever, the administration of these black towns, and the ad was always, Come prepared or not at all.
Come prepared or not at all.
And they were all very fair, these guys who were standing there with hats. And I thought, Well, maybe if—what do you mean? They were poor. They were very black. And so they were rejected by a certain group of other colored men. And so they went on and founded their own town. And they were holding on to eight-rock and who belonged in the Klan. And—very retrograde. So any modernity from these women would be threatening to them and frightening to them. Their imperfections are perfect, to me, and important.
Jude and the Deweys and so on are catalysts for Nell and Sula. Particularly my father. Me and my title! Maybe as a human. But certainly as a writer.
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And just before that my father died. And I remember thinking, I wonder what my father knew about his friends, and so on. And it was true, and I felt secure, and I felt strong. As a matter of fact, it was so much of the maleness in that when Pilate appeared, I just had to shut her up. She was just taking over the book. Not yours! And my mother was just the opposite. You know, there were Hungarians next door, and Polish people, and Jewish people. But I just thought it was a quirk. And then I learned. I went down to the little town where my father was born. So we know who owned the joint.
And Wofford is my maiden name. But one of the men who was a child at the time and grew up in that little town said that my father had seen two black men lynched on his street.
They were businessmen. They had little stores, and so on. And so he was fourteen.
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And he left and went to California, and then he ended up in Ohio. But I think seeing that at fourteen—not the murder of some terrible person, or the lynching of some bad person, but the lynching of two neighbors. You know, they were, like, doomed.
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But, listen to this! He went back to Georgia every year. To visit family. And my mother, who thinks of her days in Alabama was this sweet, lovely little kiddie, you know, in the woods, in the flowers, and my aunt this, and my aunt that. She never went back. And I was about twelve, thirteen years old—after-school job. For candy. This is it. I live here, with your family.
But my father—you know, during the war, those of us black people and poor people got really good jobs when they were not drafted. Chalk that up to the universal compassion for lost love, animals and Willie Nelson 's voice. Plus, when listening to this track alone, we don't know that he actually killed his wife, as revealed in another song on the album, "Blue Rock Montana. Shame on the "yellow haired lady" for trying to steal that bay! Spoiler alert: You're listening to the killer the entire time. Unlike "Long Black Veil," everyone fesses up to adultery and manslaughter in this labyrinthine song of cheating and killing, which Lawrence took to Number One on the Billboard Hot While Big Brother has the intent to shoot friend-turned-cheater Andy, his little sister beats him to the punch — and watches quietly as her sibling is hanged for the crime.
What's more, she apparently did a bang-up job of hiding the body of her brother's foolin' around wife — who, it becomes clear, never really did leave town. To sing tenderly of violent death is a performer's great achievement, but to actually hear a snapshot of guilt in Cash's voice makes this song the cream of the murder ballad crop. Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash perform together in Michael Ochs Archives. Share on Facebook Share on Twitter. Newswire Powered by. Close the menu. Rolling Stone.
go site Arrow Created with Sketch. Calendar Created with Sketch. His stuff was copied by George Nichols, who took up blackface after a start in plain-old clowning. Yet as often as not, blackface minstrelsy tethered black people and black life to white musical structures, like the polka, which was having a moment in The mixing was already well underway: Europe plus slavery plus the circus, times harmony, comedy and drama, equals Americana.
And the muses for so many of the songs were enslaved Americans, people the songwriters had never met, whose enslavement they rarely opposed and instead sentimentalized. These adaptations, known as U. But a good time predicated upon the presentation of other humans as stupid, docile, dangerous with lust and enamored of their bondage?
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