One of the main intentions I had for my upcoming dieta was to heal the broken lines of love between my father and me. He had passed away just two months before I was scheduled to leave for the Southern Hemisphere. He suffered a tragic and sad death. His landlady had found him slumped over the island divider in the kitchen, still gripping a glass of Chivas Regal in his lifeless hands. My father’s passing had been anticipated for many years, as he struggled with the affliction of alcoholism for most of his adult life. The news of his death knocked the wind out of me when I heard of it over the phone one lonely morning. My family and friends supported me during the days leading up to his wake. Memories overwhelmed me at night — of a man who hurt me like no other, but who also gifted me with some of the greatest moments two people can share.

My dad struggled with multiple addictions since before I was born, and they wreaked havoc for most of our relationship. Addiction is like a fire, the more space you give it, the more the flames will rage. Genius, too, is like a fire, and it works in similar ways. The more you offer yourself to it, the more its brilliance will shine. My father was like a house that contained both of these fires, constantly burning.

The way Dad passed, it seemed like the fires of addiction may have won out, leaving him dying a drunkard’s death. But in the time leading up to his funeral, I also remembered him as a brilliant man, alive and struggling with a pain deeper than his waking self. His addictions seemed to run far back into the Irish gene pool. Generations of executed poets and failed revolutionaries swam within his belly as he shot back the spirits at the bar he and my mother opened and ran for more than 25 years. His tongue was a palate coated with myriad songs about love and confusion, humor and pain, with an aching for redemption.

At Pop’s wake I referred to Dylan Thomas’s poem, “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night,” in regards to the way Dad lived his life. More likely than not, he did not go gently into the waning of the light. He did not die a good death. I imagined that he experienced fear and confusion, up until the moment, where perhaps he saw the one he always talked about seeing at his death — Jesus. The type of Jesus my father often spoke of was the same type that Johnny Cash and Woody Guthrie sung about. He sounded like a Jesus who would bring calm, and ease the pain for the sick and the hopeless, the poor and oppressed.

I suppose that to live a life of passion, one must burn. One must feel the fire in the pit of their stomach and eventually learn to direct that fire, least it consume you. There was a time in my father’s life when that fire was channeled into many joyous displays of theatrical political activism, leaving those watching and involved both shocked and amused. He and my mother were Irish immigrants to New York City at a time of tumult in Northern Ireland. It was the 1970s, the time of “the Troubles,” when suffering and resistance were at a peak in the northern six counties. There were protests and there were bombs; there were bullets, and there was blood. My father and mother held strong to their convictions that everything would be much better the sooner the British crown extricated itself from the North.

In New York City, they helped form Irish Northern Aid, an organization that brought awareness to the situation in Northern Ireland while also raising money for the families of those whom they considered to be political prisoners — people like Bobby Sands, Francis Hughes, Joe McDonnell, and the seven other men who died on a hunger strike in 1981.

I was always aware of this aspect of my father’s life. He was linked with a long line of rebel hearts, seeking a righteous resolution to some of the uglier sides of human nature. His name was known in the North, and many whom he worked with during those years held him in great esteem. I often think about what deeper motivations may have moved my parents to take the plunge into a life of high risk and coded phone conversations. They must’ve had a firm and raging longing for freedom.

Ireland is a land that has endured endless waves of struggle between a beleaguered people and a heavy-handed colonial system, which has played itself out in every generation on the world’s stage for hundreds of years. It makes sense to me that such a longing for freedom would be linked with the land, because the land has played such a major role in the story of Ireland. And my parents were people of the earth, raised on small farms in the countryside, listening to the land cry. Their movement for freedom was one that left some indelible marks on themselves and our family.

Of course, the desire for freedom manifests in many different ways. The world is well versed in stories of people fighting to get freedom from some type of oppressor. There are also tales of becoming free of what’s holding us back, and spiritual traditions that talk of a freedom found in perceiving existence in one infinite moment of understanding. There are many tales from different cultures that speak of this journey — to be free from all suffering, to finally grasp knowledge of oneself and become the lord and master of one’s own mind. It was my own search for this type of freedom that led me to ayahuasca.

A few days after the funeral, my mother and I were speaking outside her house. I told her about the dieta I was soon leaving for. I told her I respected her and Dad’s early choices to live how they had, and that I believed I was following in their footsteps by going to South America. She understood what I was saying, but didn’t really know the surrounding cultural elements. “They’re not witch doctors are they?” she asked. I could only laugh and assure her that I was not going to any witch doctors…that I knew of.

I flew into Peru International Airport and then took a short, bumpy flight to Pulcallpa, where I met the rest of the intrepid travelers headed into the Amazon for this dieta. From Pulcallpa we drove a couple of hours down some dirt roads, only stopping once to make some form of “tribute” (meaning pay-off) to the local police force lounging on that stretch before finally stopping at the Rio Ucayali. We hoped into two slim motorized boats and coasted along the serene river into the heart of the jungle.

The ride was quiet, yet upbeat. The sun shined bright, reflecting sharply off the top of the dark waters. We arrived at a nondescript piece of land, and hiked into the jungle for another hour. Finally reaching the encampment, we choose our own tambo open-air hut, which was to be our individual sleeping quarters for the next eleven days. After settling in, we all met up for a collective meal, eating, conversing, and laughing for hours, knowing that this was to be our last full meal until the dieta was over.

The day turned to night, and the darkness quickly crept its way into our congregation. One by one, we retired to our tambos, saying good night and good luck. I pulled the mosquito net over my foam “bed” situated atop a slab of wood, and then drifted off to sleep.

In the first ceremony, I set up my temporary altar in front of me. A Shipibo thread-work featuring a green glowing fish was the focal point around which I situated the rest of my concentration aids. I had a bottle of Florida water, and two pictures laid out on the Shipibo artwork. The first was of my father and myself when I was around six-years-old. In the image, Dad was leaning down, his face close to mine, looking towards the camera lens, as my eyes gaze towards something out of range. The other picture was taken roughly fifteen years later. This time I had the bigger frame, and my arm was stretched across his back. His face appeared drained, no doubt from the many years of drinking. He looked pale and frayed at the edges; deep lines of pain now engraved into his face. In the first picture, he was gripping my shoulder in a show of affection, as if to say, “Come on now, I believe in you. You can do it.” In the second picture, it was me striking this pose. Though, I felt so much pain from our relationship, I still had faith in my father. I wanted my dad man to wake up again.

I was seated next to a very large older man named Thor in the ceremonial circle. I liked Thor. I saw him as a man who had been down similar roads as my father, and I later learned that he was also the same age as Dad.

Thor was good friends with the shaman and was placed directly to his right, and I to the right of Thor. The group sat in a large circle in the maloca, the ceremonial structure in which we drank. It was situated next to one of the many rivers flowing through the heart of the Amazon. The day was clear, but the high branches of the trees in the forest blocked out much of the light from the sun.

We passed around the ceremonial cup, and then waited. When the ayahuasca started to twist and kick inside of me, I noticed that everyone in the group seemed pushed towards the brink of their own psychic thresholds. An invisible quilt of empathy gently fell upon us. We were tucked in tightly with the beautiful feeling of togetherness. It was a unity that allowed each individual the space to go through his or her own work.

The shaman started off singing a number of icaros until the ayahuasca came on full tilt. My thought patterns oscillated between notions of never feeling so alive, and powerful moments of confusion and jaw-clenching panic. What I usually referred to as my mind now resembled a vast expanse of fractalizing geometric patterns swirling through empty halls of silence. If I were able to focus on that silence (which I did like a toddler struggling to walk), my mind would become a fragile container for the many dimensions of self. This container was like a new level of awareness that was being born in me, growing a fraction at a time. In this state, I watched memories of my “waking self” swish and weave into the memories of dreams I’ve had in my life. It was becoming difficult to discern between the two.

As the icaros, sung by our guide, shimmered in visibly colorful patterns around us, these two selves seemed to move through the space of my mind’s eye like a caduceus. I felt like I was drowning in a fountain of deep life, and the deeper I sank, the more alive I felt, yet I checked in with myself repeatedly and asked, “Am I dead?”

Most of my experiences with ayahuasca up until this dieta often had me going down into an underworld. Each time I drank I learned a harsh lesson about the darker workings of my own mind. Paranoia, anger, shame and fear were usually portals I needed to walk through in order to gain some sort of ability to understand how to navigate out of my own personal prison. I was still struggling to find a balance during these experiences, many of which had been excruciating. I was repeatedly pulverized by the power of this plant. I regarded it with fear and respect. This was something I needed. Ayahuasca was strong enough to wrestle my mind to the ground and open my ears to the sound of my heart.

That first ceremony proved no different than earlier journeys back home. I was forced to plunge deep into psychic waters, an ocean helmet diver breathing in the shaman’s icaros as my single line of oxygen. His tones were tools to get the work done, and I focused my breath to take them in, to keep centered while finding my way up from this abyss. Immersed in these mercurial realms, the ayahuasca helped me process and reconcile heavy emotions that I’d never fully dealt with before. The whole time I listened intently to the shaman’s songs. Ancient lessons were being taught in those simple sounds. And even though I didn’t know what the words were, I knew exactly what they meant.

Then I had a vision of my father. I saw him in another dimension, at the mercy of the ruling force therein. But this ruling force was not benevolent. It was mean and vengeful. It was a realm where my father’s spirit had almost forgotten who he was in the life he just left, like one forgets their dream in that liminal state before waking. His spirit was in a place that burned and compressed everything around him. This ruling force (whatever it may have been) enjoyed inflicted pain upon my father, yet there was an understanding that this was necessary for him. And that was it, just as quick as the vision came, my awareness was pulled back to the ceremonial space, where the shaman shook his chacapa, healing a person nearby.

The ayahuasca worked itself through me in waves that felt like birth contractions. I endured moments of sharp pain that would eventually open into feelings of bliss. Fear or anger would rise within me, making me want to throw up. I grabbed a bucket and knelt over it, but nothing would come out. I tried again and again but all that surfaced were dry heaves and mucous. All the while, Thor was throwing up profusely. I felt a resonance with him puking his guts out sitting next to me. Somehow I understood that this man was helping me through his purging.

Then it occurred to me that Thor was puking because I couldn’t. On some energetic level, Thor was processing those things that I was having trouble with. The “energetic” self is said to expand a few feet out beyond one’s physical body. Thor was seated right next to me, so it made sense. I saluted him in my mind’s eye. My respect and reverence then expanded out to every person in the ceremony. I was in awe at the strength that every individual brought to this work. As the plant tunneled through my system with the elegant grace of a bulldozer, I mumbled words of thanks and praise to all these heroes and heroines before falling back into a lump on the ground.

I have heard many people speak about hearing a voice that they call “Grandmother,” during ceremonies. Most people say Grandmother is another reference to the spirit of ayahuasca. They say this, too, because ayahuasca has the temperament of a firm and compassionate grandmother. She will shower love and provide a voice of discipline when needed. People often speak of setting an intention or asking a question to the plant, and I have heard many say that they heard “her” voice speaking to them. That day I caught “her” gentle voice urging me to practice patience with myself, because some things take whole lifetimes to purge.

With those words, I was brought back to the last time I saw my father alive. It was a few months before he passed. I went over to visit him at the house where he was renting a room. We spoke about trivial matters. When I announced my exit he said to keep in touch. As he walked me to the door, we turned to say goodbye as we always did. We hugged, and for some reason I squeezed his barrel-chested frame harder than usual. I held onto him like I did when I was a child. He recoiled a bit, but then surrendered to the hug, while I told him that I loved him. He returned the hug, and wished me well as I exited the house. I began to cry as I walked up the pebbled driveway to my car, a voice, not unlike the voice of “Grandmother” spoke to me and said that this was going to be last time I ever saw my dad alive again.

I replayed this scene over and over in my head as Thor sat and purged. I began to cry fierce tears, tears that shot out my eyes like bullets, tears that were equal parts angry to equal parts sad. At that point, I knew I needed to separate myself from the rest of the group and unleash this furious hurt into the skies of the Amazon. “This earth will protect me. The Amazon will sooth me,” I thought, as I ran out of the malaco and moved along the thin path towards a view of the river down the lane. I sat on a plank of wood and howled and moaned like a wounded beast. My voice ripped a hole through the air my released pain.

Then I cried. I cried for my father. I cried for me. I cried for my family. I cried for the Irish. I cried for the British. I cried for the world. But mostly I just cried.

The rainforest held me in her embrace while the sorrow passed through me. This sadness was a gift and I sat there with it. It was the sadness my father had run from so violently, the one that had also dogged me my whole life. It was the sadness I imagine the earth feels when she watches so many of her children die. After all, everything buds, blooms, and then withers away. But she lives on, watching it all with love and non-invasive guidance. This sadness, I came to see, also contains great joy. But it only becomes joyful once one is able to face and embrace it. You have to sit with it, and not think about when it will lift. I sat with that sadness all afternoon, coming to terms with it, learning to love it.

Eventually, I walked back to the malaco for the closing of the ceremony. I thanked Thor for sitting next to me during the work. I looked out at the birds coasting over the river as the sun set in the distance, knowing that I’d been granted a healing, as well as my father.

Later that night, I thought back my uncle, cousins, and I carrying Dad’s casket, draped in the Irish flag, through the church doors. I felt the loss of never being able to hear the sound of his brogue and gruff voice again. All I had left were memories. Outside the church, a bagpiper played sweet and sullen tones. I stayed up for many nights afterwards thinking of all this. When the weight of these feelings finally broke on the shores of my tired mind, something revealed itself to me. Through this loss and pain, I now felt connected on a more intimate level to the world around me. I described it as “an initiation into the circle of humanity.” We may walk through the fire of existence quite differently, but it’s fire all the same. From losing my father, I discovered a profound reservoir of compassion bubble up like magma for all of us confused creatures bumping into each other at various speeds and directions in this life.

This dieta brought me to a similar place. The ceremonies provided me with a powerful metaphor for understanding my time on this earth. It was that of a very old and giant tree with branches reaching out high into a star-filled night. Tumescent roots dug deep into the fertile ground, sinking further and further towards a warm core. Many of my early experiences with ayahuasca were like these roots. My consciousness was guided through a dark underworld, stretching itself closer and closer to an understanding of what this realm had to teach. It was not always pretty, but necessary, in order to see the horizon offered by sitting atop the large branches above.

Before my time with ayahuasca, I was mostly focused on what the sky had to offer, wanting constantly be surrounded by quick-witted spirits, jetting around like lighting bolts. I had fun, but I was also frenetic and ungrounded. While sitting through many sessions, I learned that if I really wanted to see the world from the high branches, I had to ground myself, staying with my deeper emotions. Like those roots, I had to be in contact with the movements of the earth’s sighing soul. I could not have one without the other. The higher the branches, the deeper the roots.

Ayahuasca and the death of dad were two major teachers of this lesson. I had to stop running, sit down by the fire that burns inside us all, and absorb the heat in order to transmute and transmit those heavy earth stories. I am doing this to develop my own voice for singing my unique song. And I’d like to think that every being is here for the same purpose. It takes time and work, and some may take longer than others, but one thing is clear — the longer one sings in connection with his or her heart, the clearer their message becomes.

Dove Sta Memora

Immortal Technique Performing

Immortal Technique is an artist in the lineage of Zach De LaRocha and Chuck D, and he needs to be listened to. His story is a testament to the power of the pen. Born in Peru and raised in Harlem as a child, he foundhimself in trouble with the law as a teenager and young man. After serving timein prison for a couple years and becoming free, in more ways than one, Immortal Technique worked his way up through New York City underground Hip-Hop inthe early 2000′s battle-rap scene. During this period, Tech got a name forhimself for delivering vitriolic rhyme schemes deconstructing a system that hasrepeatedly lied to many in order to benefit a few. He also ran with the well-known underground NYC Hip-Hop crew, Stronghold, and frequented thenow longest running open mic in the city, End of the Weak.

His song “Dance with the Devil” is a piece that I think will stand the test of time, much like a Johnny Cash tune. The presentation laid forth by the narrator is so gritty that it almost fits the mold of Horror-core rap, the type that Ill Bill and Necro have taken to the next level over the years. Where this song veers away from the Horror-core mold is where Tech is rhyming about things that sound like they could have happened somewhere last night. A number of my friends say that they cannot listen to that song too much, because it’s so disturbing. But again, this is not for the sole reason of shock value, a criticism that is often leveled against Horror-core rap. Rather, it’s disturbing because of what it reveals.

Immortal Technique has established a worldwide presence and a strong global following, doing so from an independent stance, from the very beginning. I’ve had conversations with other MCs (Why-G being one)speculating on the possibility of Tech going platinum without the backing of a major record label. This feat would be unheard of, a true inspiration.

Tech’s rhyme style has been one of a vicious battle rapper, coming out of a particular battle-heavy era in NYC underground Hip-Hop, seeking to eviscerate his adversary. And on his Revolutionary volumes 1 and 2, this adversary appears to be United States Government. Tech has had his detractors, those who feel that his style has been weighed down a bit by the battle rap rep, and that his flow offers nothing new. But my answer to that is that the power of what he is actually saying far outweighs his style of presentation. Also like all great artists, his style has progressed and become more nuanced through time.

Over the years Tech has matured as a writer, speaker, thinker, and perhaps most importantly an activist. He appears to have settled into his stride and has gone deeper in his analysis. His recent release The 3rd World Mixtape provides some different stylistic offerings from Tech. And one only needs to go on YouTube and watch his interviews to discover his further evolution. Very recently, he has opened an orphanage in Afghanistan. This is something no one in Hip-Hop has ever done; this is unparalleled.

I caught up with Tech while he was between tours and finishing his upcoming project, The Middle Passage.

Prop: Recently, I saw footage of you speaking at the South Central Food Co-op back in 2006. I was really impressed with your analysis of the possibility of revolution in today’s world, in so much as what is achievable and tangible. Can you provide us a breakdown of, first, what you identify as Revolution, and second, what aspects of it are truly possible in the world’s current state?

Tech: I can’t recap that talk verbatim, but the way I view it today is, I always believed that revolution is the highest level of change. Not the superficial change of replacing people who are in positions that were created to prevent others from questioning their government in a more accountable manner. But more to the point, I think that revolution is a sacrifice and responsibility.

People who are usually faced with the prospect of actually engaging in a revolution are usually people who have had to suffer enough injustice, and are prone to more cynicism than others. And there is a certain point when a government just accepts the fact that there is going to be a revolution, and they then look towards cutting their losses as much as they possibly can. Like for instance, striking an economic deal with the new government, so that the illusion of freedom is given but that economic subservience to the same manufacturer and/or the same corporation is maintained. And that’s something that Latin America has an incredible amount of history in.

I also think that revolutions can only occur when the people stop being pacified, or when they stop allowing themselves to be pacified.Without pacification people start to see exactly what their money is being spent on. I’m not saying this because I don’t like sports, or I don’t like shows, or music, you know what I mean. I think that without these things the country would tear itself to pieces. Imagine how many angry people that go andvent and pay all this money to see a gladiator sport. But what would you do if you didn’t have that on Sunday or Monday? Maybe you’d actually pay attention to what is in the Patriot Act, or what is in the Stimulus package, or what your Congressman is doing. You would have an active role in government.

I don’t expect people to be as passionate about politics as I am, but I think that if they had half the passion and half the understanding of the average person who is interested in this stuff, then their life would be immeasurably different in terms of how much more proactive a role they would play in their own destiny.

And I think that’s exactly what revolution is, playing ahand in your own destiny. Saying ‘You know what, I’m really not going to allow the rest of you to dictate to me what I’m going to do, and I am going to manufacture this lifestyle for myself one way or another.’

No doubt. So, you are originally from Peru and have family down there. Are you familiar with some of the shamanic traditions in your home country?

I have come across people who participate in those types of actions, and who live their lifestyle according to these philosophies. I think that the world is neither white nor black when it comes to stuff like that.There is always a possibility of using that in conjunction with other treatments. But I think that it’s dangerous to believe in just one. People may think, ‘Oh that’s just a bunch of weirdos singing.’ But at the same time, they take so much care to think of their physical health and they take so much care of their mental health, because they know if they don’t feed their mind, their mind is going to devour itself. Yet they don’t consider what the equivalent of that would be in terms of taking care of their spiritual health, which I think is what we are talking about now. Tapping into the human spirit. I’m not going to say that I’m a spiritual person, because that seems kind of clichéd. What does that mean? You believe in ghosts? You talk to your ancestors? To me it can mean a variety of things.

I believe in God, but I’ve never as an adult adhered to one particular religion over another. I’ve accepted that all of them equally have a certain sense of truth to them, and all of them equally have a series of unfortunate hypocrisies that are a result of mankind. I think that if the religions that now control the world had been in the hands of pious people, of righteous individuals, then they would have never expanded beyond the small radius that they had at their conception. But I figure specifically that because the religion had fallen into the hands of lesser men, that it is as extensive as it is now. In that, there is no further proof than what people call colonization – which I think is too nice a word, that people use to describe 500 years of rape and murder and cultural genocide, plain genocide,and political de-evolution. I don’t know how we can sum it up in a word that makes it sound like we are going to Williamsburg, Pennsylvania.

In truth that we have lost about our society, that at times we may think we are tapping into something new, we may be tapping into something that’s very old, that we once had long ago, but was destroyed our stolen from us. If not by recent conquerors, then the conquerors before them.We were not an innocent people when we were conquered. We did horrible things to one another. It’s not like war was unknown to us. So things like you are speaking of are an incredible window to the past for understanding our people, and the evolution of all humans.

You strike me as an avid reader. I am curious if you havecome across the book Food of the Gods by Terrence McKenna?

I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never read it.

I think you would dig the book. So let’s get into the 9-11 Truth movement, a righteous cause in the quest to get some kind of clarity on what happened on September 11th, 2001. What are your views on this?

I’ll be really honest with you. I was never a member, interms of paying dues or going to meetings. I’ve told everyone that was involved from the very beginning that I didn’t adhere to one particular theory or another, because there is such a wide array of ideas about what actually happened. I’ve been hit up by a plethora of people, some of them actually have some expertise in this, and some of them do not. I’m not talking about just 9-11 Truth, I mean in general. I’ve been hit up be professors. I’ve been contacted by engineers, architects, people who were first responders, people who had family who were first responders, people whose family members had died in the attack on the World Trade Center. These were all people who didn’t believe in the government’s version, and who had their questions about it. Tome, I think there is a difference between that and the people who have outlandish claims.

At some point you have to draw the line, and say, ‘You know what? Prove it.’ You don’t get to just say silly shit like that and put it out there. So I thought to myself, unless I’m going to sit down and spend the next five or six years of my life being an investigative reporter, I’m going to speak from a position of ignorance and say I don’t know exactly what happened that day. The government has a version of what happened, but they wouldn’t tell us the truth about the air being safe to breathe afterwards.

When a cop gets busted and it turns out he lied and planted evidence, all of the arrests that he’s made come into question. Well, is not the same logic applicable to a government that has consistently lied to people, and is just caught now in lying to people? You lied about a war, you lied about so many other things, and I know that’s such a catch-phrase. The minute that a conservative person hears that they are immediately turned off, saying, ‘Oh, here we go again.’ I’m not a liberal you moron, you know. I’m conservative about a lot of things, but I’m not a person that is just going to blindly agree with one political spectrum. Or I should say, one structured political spectrum, because I think America has dimensions of politics that go beyond Left and Right, and I think for anyone that doesn’t understand that, you’ve really been trained very well. You have no consciousness on your level.

I would say that throughout life, this government has persisted by keeping things from the people. I think it’s the only way to conduct a government, I’ll be perfectly honest with you. I don’t think there’sa way to have a government and not lie to people. Because at the end of the day, there is not a government, you know what I mean? People say it’s not a system, we live in a nation, and there’s people … exactly! Thank you for making my point for me. It’s not about a government, it’s about people who rule other people. It’s about people that control other people for the interest of those people and a small conglomerate of individuals. Eventually it all breaks down to some economic oligarchy that runs New York City. Why can’t we imagine this being a microcosm for what goes on in Washington, or anywhere else? We fashioned ourselves after the Roman Empire, as if that was a good thing. That was an authoritarian regime that ruled through tyranny and murder. The PaxRomana was not that for everyone else.

So again, when I talk about 9-11 and I talk about these other things, I come from a perspective of doubt, but also one of compassion. For not just the people that died from that act but also for the people that died as a result of dragging 9-11 through everything. It became a catchphrase.There are conservative Republicans that should be ashamed with that, every single thing was about 9-11, 9-11, 9-11. And at the end of the day, you beginto lose touch with the actual reality. How a family was never paid their money. How firefighters remains were quickly dumped into garbage trucks with all sorts of other debris. And I’m not talking about particles of dust that were once people, I’m talking about parts of individuals. It just brings up so many questions. Like, what are you in such a rush to get rid of the evidence for? Are we going to forget that Bush didn’t want a 9-11 Commission? Are we going to forget that at first he tried to appoint Henry Kissinger to do that? At the end of the day, people are going to remember this. It’s not my fault that I have a good memory. Don’t call me a skeptic and a conspiracy theorist because I have a good memory.

I just remember all these things happening in conjunction with a massive attempt to blank out things in the media. When they finally hada quote-unquote picture of a plane hitting the Pentagon, and all the press was saying this was incontrovertible proof. And it looked like someone had super-imposed a duck bill over an old Polaroid photo, and I was like, ‘People believe that?’ So many other experts were saying, ‘This is Not the Pentagon, this is not the building,’ and then they pulled the picture. But they tried, and that’s the whole point. Yo, you go to jail for attempted murder, even if you fail. So where is the attempted perjury that these people are trying to get away with? Shouldn’t they be charged for that?

Those are basically my feelings on 9-11, and I think there alot of people within the 9-11 Truth Movement who see it that way. I’m sure that there are some people who think, automatically, that I’m naive because I don’t see it their way. That I don’t believe that George Bush is directly responsible for 9-11. There are people who come at me like that, and that’s fine, because I don’t need your permission to be who I am.

When you’re twice as old as me, you probably won’t have accomplished half as much. That’s fine. That’s not me bragging, that’s just me saying I plan to dedicate the rest of my life to what I’m doing. This isn’t some fly-by-night club that I’ve decided to throw together a band of revolutionaries to make music – this is my life. And I know people in the9-11 Truth Movement who are also dedicated to this for life, because they’ve lost members of their family. Their lives have been altered by it. And it isusually with those types of people, people that I can sit down and have a rational conversation, and agree to disagree on some things, that I am the closest with. And I’m more friendly about stuff when we have conversations within the 9-11 Truth Movement.

But I try to be open minded like that with all people I meet. I have a publicist whose entire family are anti-Castro Cubans. That’s avery interesting conversation. You know, I learn more about the struggle from them than by going to a meeting of ultra-Leftists telling me how big of a miracle Cuba is. And yes, absolutely, it’s interesting how it has lived under such deprived conditions, under embargo, and yet it’s still not the poorest country in Latin America and the Caribbean. That’s fucking amazing when you think about it. But at the same time, because I’m able to speak with those people, and because I am able to get another perspective, I say, you know, revolution isn’t perfect. Here’s the dark side of it, here’s the things that goon behind the scenes, here’s the unfortunate truth. And only by accepting those things can we possibly try to change them as a community and make the revolution stronger.

But there are people who do not want to accept that there is anything wrong with it, and they say, ‘Nah, it’s perfect.’ You are proving our enemies point more by doing that. I’m willing to sit down with people that I have an ideological disagreement with and have that conversation. I’m willing to sit down with people who have served in the Israeli army and have served in the occupied territory, and have differing views than me on the situation, and I want to understand them. I talked to a lot of people when I went to Ireland whose family were the only type of Republicans who I can see eye-to-eye with. Those that were saying, ‘Hey they came and they took my son, what the fuck was I supposed to do? Was I just supposed to lay down and accept that?’ On the other side there, were some British people I spoke to who said that, ‘Oh, that movement was infiltrated from the beginning.’ All right then, where’s the proof? Let’s have that discussion.

When I meet more logical people, rather than the people that demand my political allegiance immediately, then I get along with them better.There have been a couple of people who have had an issue with me because I won’t accept their theory immediately. But by and large I’ve met a very diverse group of people – not just within the the 9-11 Truth Movement, but within lots of these organizations – who are willing to say, ‘Hey, you know what, I don’t agree with lots of this stuff, and I’m not going to propagate things I can’t prove. I’m going to speak about my personal experience and how I was lied to. How they couldn’t find my family, and how it turns out they put them in a goddamn dumpster. I’m going to talk about my uncle, how he was down there digging bodies out, and now he has lung cancer. He doesn’t smoke, nothing, and now he has lung cancer. And you said it was cool to breathe down there. I didn’t see you down there. You took your face mask off for the press photos, but then you put it back on.’ There’s a lot of unanswered questions about stuff like that.

I think only after this country collapses are we going tofind out the truth. And still even after we find out the truth, there are still going to be people who will try to justify the government’s actions. And then you should just be recognized for the heartless, cold, fascist piece of shit that you are.

Let’s focus on New York City for a moment. Utilizing gentrification as a form of economic development has always been a trend, but it seems to have accelerated since the mid to late nineties. Up in Harlem right now there is the extension of the accelerated gentrification movement. Many will say stuff like, this is just a fact of life in NYC, but I wonder how people can work together to get some sort of equitable community going on and strike a balance between those coming in and those already living there?

Harlem, in general, is in a fucked up predicament right now, because the people who are supposed to represent it, don’t. There are people who are supposed to represent us in Congress, and they don’t, they represent themselves in Congress. And that’s fine and dandy, but then don’t lie to the public. Don’t act like you are doing some sort of public service for us by stealing money and by accepting money from all these donors who are obviously individuals who are working for the complete gentrification of Harlem. I think itwas so interesting to see Charles Rangle have his name plastered all over next to Obama’s. When I looked at that I was like, ‘You’re really trying to attach yourself to this man because if you ran on your own merit, you’d lose.’

As for Columbia University, here is an institution that claims to be about higher learning, and then you have the president of it who is quite aware of what’s going on in West Harlem, but doesn’t care. How much attention to detail of humanity are we observing, so at that point you realize that it’s not just education that’s important? You can be an educated person who is a cruel heartless bastard. Education doesn’t imply being more righteous, being more human, being better, coming up with better solutions for the public. Many times it elicits the thought of coming up with better solutions for you, and how you can take advantage of people.

You know, they say all the time, Those who can’t do, teach. That’s the saying. But you know what, those who can’t teach, chair a department, and those who chair a department are the president of the university. That dude, he knows how I feel about him, and there’s nothing he can do because I own my apartment, in the co-op I live at in Harlem. So you can kiss my ass, homie.

Are you speaking about Rangle or the cat at Columbia University?

Bollinger, the president of Columbia. Rangle has his own issues to deal with and I think he’s going to find himself in more hot water real soon. But that’s not going to solve the problem, by just getting rid of him, because after him, then who? Who’s going to come in and reverse that decision?They are going to find anything they can use on that guy. They are going to do whatever they possibly can to ruin that guy’s chance of ever achieving anything. I think it’s a shame. I think we should change the city. I think it would be interesting to see a Congressman come in and say, ‘You know what, no, fuck you, I don’t care what you say. You’re not helping the residents of this community. You’re gentrifying everything, you’re creating unaffordable housing. And there’s no effort to help our people find the civilization that we’ve lost.’

And as for Bollinger, him and his administration were the ones that created the Manhattanville community group and Harlem Renaissance. That has nothing to do with Manhattanville. They were just a bunch of niggas who decided to call themselves Manhattanville Community Group. A bunch of heartless devils, that were like, ‘Ok, here we go. Let’s act like we’re a part of this thing.’ And they go and hire David Dinkins. You’re going to put David Dinkinson the hook of your district in order to make it less offensive to the black community? Really? That’s how I feel about gentrification in New York.

We didn’t even get into gentrification in Brooklyn or Queensor the Bronx, just Harlem, so imagine how it plays out with other city officials all over the city. It’s funny because Hugo Chavez recently won a referendum so people can vote for him for a third term. We didn’t even get that courtesy from Bloomberg. He didn’t bring a referendum up to the people.

Word. I have heard a growth and progression in your music and words over these past number of years. I’m curious about what you are optimistic and hopeful about at this particular moment in the world and in Hip-Hop?

Honestly, in terms of Hip-Hop, it’s sad but I really don’t expect too much from a lot of people anymore. I’ve learned not to expect too much. Because as soon as I see someone who has a good idea or has some interesting work, they go and immediately think that they will get some money from some corporation, and that’s it. The validity they had with the people is gone, and it’s a shame, I wish it wasn’t like that. I wish people thought about how much longevity they would have if maybe they took a different outlook on stuff like that. But they don’t, it’s not their perspective.

I hope that there are those in the realm of Hip-Hop who actually proceed to make something of themselves, and say, ‘You know what, I can take this art really far.’ But the sad part is, most people don’t give a fuck about taking their art nowhere. This isn’t about art for them. They know nothing about art. They just know about using the same marketing strategy that everyone’s been using, ‘I’m a hustler. I’m a killer.’ Not to say that people haven’t killed or hustled. But I think now the Hip-Hop game is understanding that the street credibility doesn’t sell records anymore. No one cares if you’re a murderer. You did time, congratulations. You know, your rhymes better be really good, or your gonna have to go back on the breadline, homie. People don’t care about you being a fucking killer or a murderer. It’ll get you some clicks onto your website. If you post your jail record, it might get you something on Worldstar.

It’s like the public has an opportunity for the first time in a long time to say, ‘You know what, I know this is a lot of tongue in cheek stuff. I’ve seen this film before, show me something new.’ That’s the reason Hollywood is suffering, they got the same damn formula all the time. And you should suffer if you’re going to be like that, fuck you. That’s just what it is. I mean I think there are a group of promising individuals that I’ve had the pleasure of working with over the years that are doing stuff. I’m not just going to say that people who are promising are people that I’ve worked with.

I just hope that the independents that are in all of these regions –Midwest, the South, the West coast, the Northwest, the Southwest, the East coast, Canada, Latin America – and anyone who is reading this in Africa in Europe or Asia, I hope you realize the strength and potential that you have as an independent. And that you don’t sell yourself short, because it’s not a question of selling yourself short; it’s a question of selling yourself, period.

So, to touch on this again: There’s so much going on in the world right now and a lot of work that needs to be done. Is there anything that you see that has got you enthusiastic about, and has you saying, ‘Yo that’s dope. I’d like to see where that’s going.’ What’s popping up on the radar for you?

I think that over the years, I’ve seen more and more peoplequestioning stuff and who are coming into their own revolutionary logic. Ithink that’s a good first step, I’d like to see an expansion of that. But those parameters aren’t going to be set by me, they are going to be set by people who choose to question and rebel against the status quo. Or they may say, ‘Hey, it’s too much of a bother,’ and say fuck it. But there are more people out there willing to take risks for not just themselves, but for everybody, for a collective.

I’ve been really impressed by a lot of people. I hope that continues. I hope that more people realize how much we are connected and how much our struggles are connected, that we can learn from other people’s revolutions and other people’s failures and victories. That’s why I have such a great amount of respect for all revolutions that have existed. That’s why I have a great sadness towards all genocides, all holocausts. Because I want to understand each and every one in their own fashion, and how they all came to be. And what their impacts have been on our society beyond a TV show or a movie.

And I feel appreciated for my music. I have a very strong support base of people who are tired of hearing the same shit. And I’mma keep giving it to them. There’s the documentary I got coming called Urban Warfare about my travels all over the world. I’ve got TheMiddle Passagecoming. I’ve got a couple of artists that I’m helping put some small releases out. Showcase some talent. And I’ve got a soundtrack for the movie I’m working on, real shit. Ha ha!

Mohaiemen writes, “According to research presented by the American Muslim Council, in 1992, between 5 to 8 million Americans followed some variation of the Islamic faith.” Interestingly, the organization found that the largest group of Muslims in the U.S. are not Arab but African American, at 42 percent. Only “12 percent of American Muslims are of Arab descent (the majority of Arab Americans being Christian),” contrary to the perception held by many in America today.

Though most Muslims tend to align with the Sunni denomination, there are many different takes on the Islamic faith. There is the Shi’ite sect, the Isma’ili tradition, the Ahmadiyya path – and let us not forget the Sufis. A predominant form of Islam that comes up when talking about African-American Muslims is the Nation of Islam. Founded by W.D. Fard in the early 1930s, the doctrines were brought to the public eye through the works of Elijah Muhammad and Malcolm X. Branching off from Fard’s teachings is an Islamic group known as The Five Percenters, a belief system that grew out from Harlem New York during the 1960s.

The Five Percenters took their name from a passage in Fard’s “The Supreme Wisdom Lessons,” a text comprised of questions and answers that those within the Nation of Islam are asked to study. The Lessons state that 85% of humanity are “uncivilized people, who are easily led in the wrong direction, but hard to lead into the right direction.” They are essentially deaf, dumb, and blind to truth. There is 10% of the populace who know truth, but instead of seeking to awaken the 85%, they seek to enslave them and benefit from their captivity. They are known as “the blood-suckers of the poor.” Finally, there are the 5%. These are the men and women who are in touch with truth and are called to “teach freedom, justice, and equality to all the human family of the planet Earth.” The 5% are usually bestowed with the title “poor righteous teachers,” which can give you some idea of the career opportunities that arise from such a calling.

Among those few who have actually heard of The Five Percenters, they tend to be described as angry black men who advocate violence, maintaining that the white man is the devil, while the black man is god. The mainstream media usually presents those involved with this belief system as deranged, and dangerous. There has long been a lack of serious, scholarly ethnographic study on the Five Percenters, but this is finally changing.

A better understanding has arrived with the publication ofMichael Muhammad Knight’s book, The Five Percenters: Islam, Hip-Hop, and the Gods of New York. Knight does not shy away from presenting some of the seedier elements of some persons involved with Five Percenter work; however, he also makes a strong case for the Percenters as a positive movement overall within the African American, and later Hip-Hop, communities. (A quick run-down of Hip-Hop artists who claim either allegiance to or influence from the Five Percenter beliefs will yield the following names: Wu-Tang Clan, Busta Ryhmes, Big Daddy Kane, Brand Nubian, Nas, Gang Starr, Mobb Deep, Poor Righteous Teachers, Queen Latifa, and Ladybug Mecca from Digable Planets.)

The story of the Five Percenters is a complicated one. It runs the gamut from gritty tales of street life found within ghettos across the country to sublime expressions of redemption and pride. Through reading some of Knight’s books, I found that he is just as complex as the subjects he chooses to write about. Growing up as a white teenager in rural upstate New York, he was first turned on to Hip-Hop when Public Enemy broke through to the mainstream. Not long after, he found himself so inspired by The Autobiography of Malcolm X that he made the decision to convert to Islam. At the age of 17, he packed his bags and moved to Pakistan to study the faith more deeply. Since that time, the exploration of his beliefs has taken him on a cross-country trek in search of his own brand of American Islam, a journey that he describes in his book Blue-Eyed Devil: an American Muslim Road Odyssey.

Knight has transcribed his own relationship to Islam fearlessly throughout his works, and hence has been labeled both a heretic and a pioneer. His first book, Taqwacores is credited with influencing the American Muslim woman-led prayer movement, and it even spawned a nascent Islamic punk-rock scene. He has updated Islam to fit into some of the best offerings the youth culture has produced since World War Two, namely Hip-Hop and Punk. From what I can tell by reading his books, his pilgrimage was a long and arduous one, but it has definitely borne ripe fruit that should engage the mind of any serious searcher along the path of spirituality.

I caught up with Knight this past spring on 125th Street in Harlem to discuss the Five Percenters, Hip-Hop, and the hopeful power that the youth have to bring about knowledge and understanding in these interesting times.

PA: In your own journey with Islam, you identified yourself as a Sunni for a while. How would you describe your personal relationship with Islam today?

MMK: I used to believe in a very narrow definition of Islam, so narrow that when I was in Pakistan at 17 studying Islam in a Madres, Pakistani men would tell me, “You can’t learn Islam in Pakistan. It’s too diluted. You have to go to Saudi and get the real Arab Islam.” At the time I accepted what they were saying. Then later on, as I was looking at it, I said to myself, Why do these guys have such inferiority complexes about how they understand and practice Islam?Why were they in submission to Saudi power? So eventually I started looking at Islam through the lens of an American Muslim. And I would hear that same pattern repeated here, “You know it’s a diluted Islam in America. American Muslims don’t know what they are doing.”

When I look at how Islam is practiced Saudi Arabia it doesn’t seem like anything that I want to be a part of. So for me to understand myself as a Muslim, I really had to take it into my own hands.

This is an area that I got a lot out of through the Five Percenters. The Lessons break it down so that you have the 10%, who are the rich, bloodsuckers and slave makers of the poor, who teach what they know isn’t true. And then you have the 85%, who are the deaf, dumb, and blind – slaves to mental death and power. And then there’s the 5%, who are the poor righteous teachers, the ones who recognize themselves as true and living gods.

Personally, I believe in the Mystery God. The Five Percenter teaching says that there is no Mystery God, no God force beyond the human dimension. But I wouldn’t count myself in the 85%, because the Lessons say that 85% are the slaves to mental death and power – this is the way a “god” (a person who practices 5% beliefs refers to himself as a “god”) broke it down to me. So for me, the 85%, are those Muslims who submit blindly to the imams, or the Christians who just submit to the priests. You can be a Christian and have your own relationship with Christ, and not let a priest stand in your way. Or similarly, I can be a Muslim and not submit to what the Muslims in Saudi Arabia say.

Give me a brief description of how you got into studying the Five Percenters in your search for an American Islam.

Basically what I was looking for was an understanding of how Islam changes when it encounters different cultures. For instance, when Islam reached Persia and Persians became Muslim, Islam also became Persian. When Islam reached India, it became Indian. As Islam reached America, or took root in America, it became something American. It evolved its own American tradition. So, I was trying to examine all the different shapes that Islam has taken in this country.

And I saw Master Fard Muhammad, the founder of the Nation of Islam, as summing up the whole history of Islam in America, because he was most likely coming from the immigrant experience. He ties that into the American experience, obviously. And without Master Fard and everything he did, there really would be no indigenous Islamic tradition as we know it. There would be no Malcolm X, Muhammad Ali, Louis Farrakhan, or The Five Percenters. I see Fard as the source of all this.

So in my struggle to know and understand Master Fard, that’s what brought me into the Five Percent. And what really started to fascinate me was the more I got into it, the more I recognized that it is its own tradition.

You can talk about Islam in America, or the Nation of Islam, or whatever, but that won’t really capture The Five Percent. You have to really start looking at The Five Percent as its own tradition – as its own system. And it really spoke a lot to me on a variety of different levels, from religious levels to cultural and historical levels. So, it’s a pretty deep well.

In terms of how The Five Percent belief system can be seen as being a foundation for Hip-Hop music and Hip-Hop culture, where do you think Five Percenter thought is today?

Five Percenters were at the very beginning of Hip-Hop. They started out in New York City, and Hip-Hop started out in New York City. For much of the history, you can’t separate the two. On the one hand, as Hip-Hop expanded it may have diluted the Five Percent influence, because Hip-Hop moved out to the west coast and to Chicago, Atlanta, Houston, Detroit – places where the Five Percent didn’t have as deep a history yet. That aspect may have compromised the influence a bit. But on the other hand, people all over the world are listening to Rakim and the Wu-Tang Clan. And the expansion of Hip-Hop has paralleled the expansion of the Five Percenters. Today, you can find the Five Percent anywhere. So I think just as much as the Five Percent was involved in the origins of Hip-Hop, Hip-Hop was also a way for the Five Percent to expand as well. They have helped each other.

Can you talk about the conversation you held with the RZA, founding member of the Wu-Tang Clan, about the significance that Hip-Hop has played in where we are at in America’s political system?

Sure. I spoke to the RZA when I was writing the book and writing an article for Vibe, and we were talking about the legacy, not just of the Wu-Tang Clan, but also of Five Percenter MC’s and Hip-Hop itself. And he said to me, “In this day and time, to have a serious discussion about the possibility of a black man being president. The Wu-Tang has a lot to do with that.”

And when he said that, at first I thought, “This is some crazy rock-star self-promotion type of thing.” But then when I really reflected on it I said, you know, that’s true. That’s actually true. Because when I was 13 and I was growing up, where I come from its cornfields, square dances, and demolition derbies. I grew up in the sticks. And Chuck D said that rap was “the Black CNN,” and that was true for me, because rap was my source of information to a world that I had no connection to.

My whole intellectual and spiritual trajectory for the last 15 years has been completely impacted by Public Enemy. If it weren’t for Public Enemy I wouldn’t have read The Autobiography of Malcolm X. As a white kid growing up in a farm town, I never would have walked into a mosque. I never would have gone to Pakistan. I never would have had the life that I had. So I really think that Hip-Hop has built more bridges and opened more doors than almost anything in American culture. And people talk about how this year’s election is potentially a generational shift in politics; it really is an election in which the Hip-Hop generation plays a part. So what the RZA said really wasn’t that far off the mark – Hip-Hop has had that kind of impact.

The story of Clarence 13X (ALLAH) seems almost a myth, to some degree. The stories that some people tell about him, and those you’ve transcribed in your book, show a character that many have drawn a tremendous amount of inspiration from. Where would you chart him in the tradition of W.D. Fard, Malcolm X, and Elijah Muhammad?

Well, during his lifetime he pretty much was just the guy on the corner in Harlem. He became significant in local politics towards the end of his career, when Mayor Lindsey began engaging with actual community leaders and not just elected officials. He didn’t really reach a national level because he was taken out before he could go that far.

His real influence came after his death, when he really did become a kind of mythic figure. The young gods (these were the young men who learned from ALLAH/Clarence before he was killed) held him in such awe that when they carried on the teachings, the way they communicated the teachings to the next generation made ALLAH larger than life. So I’d say that he’s much more relevant now than he ever was when he was alive – which is true for a lot of historical figures.

I see in your work (probably more so in Blue-eyed Devilthan The Five Percenters) an exploration of Sufism. I am curious to know, in your own words, how does Sufism fit into all this, and perhaps is it related to the founder of The Moorish Science Temple, Noble Drew Ali?

There have been attempts to reconcile the Five Percent teachings on God, and Sufi teachings on God. I personally don’t go there, but I can see why it works for some. Honestly, sometimes it’s not such a leap, because if the Quran says, “God is closer to you than the vein in your neck” – well, what’s the vein in your neck? The vein in your neck is you. What’s closer to you than you? So, on some levels I can see a relationship there. And Noble Drew Ali drew upon many mystical sources, and people have found parallels with Sufism. I don’t necessarily know if he himself interacted with Sufism. Some of the stuff reads the same across the board: Christian mysticism, New Age Theosophy, Sufism, you have a lot of similar themes. So I think there is a place; if you have an interest in Sufism and you have an interest in Noble Drew Ali, you have enough to work with to connect the two. But I don’t necessarily know that Noble Drew Ali himself had any connection with Sufism.

One thing that Ali seemed to speak a lot about was the culture of the Moors. Have you looked into Moorish culture? Any interesting discoveries that you’d like to share?

Well what Noble Drew Ali was trying to do was offer a national identity to Black people that was a preferable alternative to what America offered, because America offered no identity. America offered second-class citizenship. So what Noble Drew Ali was saying was, “You are not Negroes (which was the term at the time). You are Moors. And you have a nationality.” And this was at a time when you had all kinds of European immigration coming in, and white people coming off the boat weren’t white. They were Irish, Polish, Italian, German, whatever – whereas Black people were just Black. And Noble Drew Ali was saying, “No. You also have a nationality.” So that’s where he was going with that.

The Moorish Science Temple still lives on. There are people who still cling to that. But if you look at the teachings of Elijah Muhammad, Noble Drew Ali, The Five Percent, it’s all about taking a greater identity than what America offers. Talking about something greater than what America says that you are, something greater than America itself even.

In Blue-Eyed Devil and The Five Percenters you write a little about Hakim Bey, aka Peter Lamborn Wilson. Can you tell me some positive things you’ve taken from his works?

Well, Peter was really influential for me in terms of seeing Islam as something that can be flexible and diverse and creative. Because Islam in my previous experience really had no room for creativity. And when Peter spoke about heresy in a positive way, that really blew my mind and opened me up to appreciate things like the Five Percent in a way that I really wouldn’t have been able to before, when I was caught up in issues of what’s authentically Islam. So that’s definitely the good that I’ve gotten from him.

I’d like to clarify some ideas and terms that are used within the Nation of Islam and The Five Percenter movement. First, could you explain the story of Yacub and the 6-ounce brain of the white race. and the idea of the white man being the devil?

Basically the history taught by the Nation of Islam, which is shared by the Five Percenters, is that what you would call the white race is the creation of a scientist named Yacub. And Yacub created – engineered – this race of devils that were physically weaker, mentally weaker, and predisposed to wickedness. And these devils would cause destruction and oppression on the earth until their time ran out basically.

I got a lot out of that mythology, however I did not treat it as physical history. I don’t believe that there was actually a man named Yacub six thousand years ago that fled to the island of Patmos and started a eugenics government to graft a pale skin race of devils. Like I said, I don’t view that as physical history. I think the main purpose of mythology and religion is to explain the presence of evil in the world, and that is a very viable and worthwhile way of explaining evil in America, and perhaps the rest of the world.

But for me, what I personally got out of it was a way to understand myself as an American. I don’t believe myself to be genetically disposed to wickedness, or that I was born inherently inferior to anyone, but if you are white in a white supremacist culture you’re going to have the same pins and needle stuck in your head that you need to take out. You’re going to be receiving hardcore cultural messages that can become so deeply ingrained in you that you don’t even know you are perpetuating a white supremacist culture, and in that respect that makes you a devil. You are doing things without even knowing the wicked ramifications of it.

There’s this story about a professor who got his PhD in Slavery, a white man who spent a decade of his life studying racial oppression. You might consider him to be the most politically and socially aware and enlightened white man on the planet, you know what I mean. But one day he was walking down the street with a Jewish student who had a Star of David medallion around his neck, and two African American men walked up to them and one of them touched that medallion. He took it in his hand, and this white professor and his Jewish student both become paralyzed in fear. And the dude just says, “That’s beautiful. That’s a really cool chain.” And they just walk on. And this white professor, with his PhD in Slavery was confronted with this ugliness inside himself that he didn’t even know was there. That’s how deeply ingrained that devilishment is.

“The Lessons” of W.D. Fard say that it takes the devil 35 to 50 years of study to even be allowed to trade among the righteous, original people, just to be considered a Muslim son. I think what this really offered me was the challenge to own up to it. I was born in this culture and I have those pins and needles in my head. (“Pins and Needles” is a metaphor used within Five Percenter beliefs to show how untrue messages cloud peoples’ thinking.) And to take those pins and needles out is just a process of civilization, and civilizing yourself. When someone is educating oneself and learning to push aside fabrication for fact, the process is referred to as “pulling pins and needles.”

I’m really thankful for encountering that. It gave me a whole new understanding of my place in American history. And what it meant for me to be born in the place that I was.

Ok, can you give a brief description of “The Lessons”?

The Lessons was the Nation of Islam’s process of initiation. There were these texts that you memorized upon your entry into the mosque. Basically, the structure of the Lessons was as transcribed question and answer sessions between Fard and Elijah Muhammad. So Fard, the teacher, would ask the question, and Elijah Muhammad, the student, would give the answer. And so these questions and answers are how the Nation of Islam taught its beliefs to new members.

And ALLAH, he mastered those lessons and eventually, when he broke with the Nation, he took them out on the street. These secret lessons that were so fiercely guarded within the mosque were now on the street corners, they were on the basketball courts, in the parks, and teenagers were teaching them to kids even younger than themselves. And that’s really how the Five Percent got started, from the liberation of these lessons birthing a whole different culture.

Now can you explain the literal definition of “Knowledge of Self” as taught by the Five Percent? Also, I’d like to hear you break down some science on the Supreme Mathematics and Supreme Alphabets and the 120.

The Knowledge of Self is for the black man to recognize that there is no Mystery God up in heaven. That he is his own god, that he’s the god of the universe. The Mathematics and the Alphabets is what ALLAH, the former Clarence 13X, added on. That was his understanding and a system the he revealed, you can say.

They compliment the understanding of the Lessons. A lot of gods consider the Mathematics and the Alphabets to be the key to unlocking the lessons. Here’s an example: today is the fifth of the month. In Mathematics, that would be Power. So today’s Mathematics would be Power, and the day’s degree asks you, “How do we take Jerusalem away from the devil?”

If I wanted to understand that lesson, I might try to relate that to the day’s Mathematics of Power. So we can talk about Jesus being a teacher of Freedom, Justice, and Equality. And people taking his message, distorting it, corrupting it, using it as a shield for dirty religion. And that’s how they got what? Power.

So, for you to get Power, you have to take Jerusalem back from the devil.

And I’m just a baby in that culture. If you talk to a god that’s been in this for forty years they would add on a whole depth that is beyond my reach. That’s just a quick break down.

Respect. If a black man can call himself god, then why can’t a white man do the same?

I think that you have take it to the historical context of the Lessons. Like, why are the Lessons important? Why is the culture important? Why is the value system important? I think that the meaning of “god” there is for the original man to lift himself up rather than waiting for a supernatural power to do it for him. So, I get it on that level.

The way I was taught, it’s not claiming to be a mystical creature that other people cannot be. It’s more of a social and political statement about what you are doing in your community. I’ve been told all kinds of things within the Five Percent community. I’ve even been greeted with “Peace, black man.” I’d go to a Parliament, a monthly Five Percenter meeting, and be greeted with “Peace, black man.”

And I’ve got my blue eyes, and I’m not fooling anybody. I am what I am. But, you’ll hear all kinds of things with that. There are even some Five Percenters who teach that white people can be gods, and I’m not sure how seriously that’s taken.

I never was treated as the devil. That’s one thing I can say about the Five Percent. I was never treated as something inferior or as the devil. My ways and actions was how I was understood. If I came in with respect, I was treated with respect. And that’s how I took it.

It was explained to me this way by a Jewish man who worked for City Hall in the 60s, a man who was very familiar with ALLAH and the Five Percenters. I asked him, “Do you see this as black supremacy? Do you see this as racism?” And he said, “Well, you know, it’s just like the Jews believing that they are the chosen people.” The way that he phrased it was, “This is just a way to take some pretty bad kids and teach them self-respect.”

So, to me, you really have to look at the history of where this came from and then look at the mythology and value system celebrating the specific struggle of a particular people. So I respect the Five Percent very much. I can’t go in there and claim it as my own, and say “Yes, I’m god. I’m on the same level as you are in this culture.” There is a very specific historical place for this, and I don’t want to step on that.

When I go to Parliaments it’s kind of like going to dinner at somebody’s house, or when you are staying at someone’s house. I take what’s offered to me, respectfully. If they offer me the couch, if they offer me the guest bedroom, I accept what I am offered there.

I know Elijah Muhammad has written at least one book about Freemasonry. Did the Freemasons come up at all in your research?

Noble Drew Ali was definitely influenced more by Freemasonry than by traditional Islamic sources. Like I said, I couldn’t find any evidence that he was directly involved with Sufism or any other kind of mainstream Islam. But his imagery of Islam was shaped more by the Shriners, and the way that he structured his organization and his texts and stuff was influenced by Freemasonry.

That’s also part of the genealogy of African American religious tradition that I’ve been getting into lately, because Freemasonry really is the starting point in a way for Islam into this country. And that ties into Egyptology, like what Dwight York builds on now. So I was trying to say that going to Islam, to going to spaceships, to Egyptology to Judaism – to the outsider these seem like very unrelated things. But within the tradition that York was working with, it doesn’t seem to be so unrelated. He wasn’t going from Islam to Buddhism, or something which hadn’t really taken that much of a hold in the African American religious tradition. There were definitely historical relationships between all of those things.

[Ed. Note: Dwight York is the founder of Ansar Pure Sufi, which blended Five Percent teachings with those of Elijah Muhammad, Sufism, Judaism, and the Sudanese Mahdi movement. Through the late 1960s and early 70s, York’s movement went through a series of name changes. He is currently is prison for the sexual molestation of many children within his community, though there are still people who claim that he was set up.]

What are you researching and writing about these days?

I’ve been doing a lot of research into Nuwabu, one of the communities York began. I’ve always had kind of peripheral encounters with it. Getting into the history of the Five Percent, Nuwabians started out in Brooklyn. So they were there for a lot of that early history, too.

What I am interested in right now is kind of a genealogy of York’s teachings, looking at the whole tradition from which it draws from. A lot of people say that he was this and then he switched over to that, and then he was this and then he switched over to that.

And these were complete 180s. If you really look at the history of African American religions, you might see that the shifts really did have a connection with each other. And that’s what I’m interested in now. The genealogy in how this unique reality system became constructed. There has been limited writing on it, and it’s basically playing within the cult paradigm. And that’s really not the game I’m trying to play. I’m just looking at the historical courses that shaped that particular tradition.

A few questions to end on: Where do you think the positive potential for all this is going? Are you encountering more people like yourself, those of the white class really taking on all this stuff with a sober mind, and who are really trying to do something positive in collaboration with those from the communities like the Five Percent? Are you optimistic about the future trajectory concerning race relations and the potential for peace and real understanding in America?

I think that the worst today is as bad as it’s ever been, but the best may be better. Here we are, two white guys talking about the Five Percenters and Hip-Hop up in Harlem. I think that end of the spectrum has expanded. I don’t know if you saw, after the West Virginia primary, people in West Virginia talking about if they would vote for a black man, or how they feel about someone with a middle name Hussein – stuff like that. That is still there, and I don’t know if that’s going anywhere.

But, I think that there is more on the other side than there were in previous years. Still, I don’t think that that kind of evil is ever going to be gone completely. But I do believe that there are more enlightened people now than ever before. I hope so.