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The New Negro:
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The three epigraphs tell the classic story of the American Negro's symbolic transition from "Old" to "New" between Reconstruction and World War II. During this period, the Old Negro was a trope that depicted the African diaspora as an inferior race. Allegedly, Negro uncles, mammies, and chillun' dressed, talked, behaved, and thought in ways that lacked the kind of sophistication and refinement generally attributed to Anglo America. Such caricatures oversimplified black subjectivity and experiences, while ridiculing the idea of black assimilability to American civilization. African American discourses of the New Negro, however, emerged to contest degrading black stereotypes. Literature, photographs, illustrations, theater, and speeches were but a few of the contexts in which African Americans declared that the race could be morally, intellectually, and culturally elevated to civilization.
In the wake of recent scholarship that has examined the remarkable history of the New Negro, this anthology hopes to flesh it out even further, showing why the New Negro was one of the most compelling stories of racial uplift that circulated throughout U.S. intellectual society, culture, and politics.1 By reprinting approximately one hundred canonical and lesser-known essays written or published between 1892 and 1938, we lay the groundwork for scholars, teachers, students, and general readers to learn more about the political interconnection of race, representation, and African American culture. Racial representation, we argue, functioned as an ideological or philosophical bridge between the cultural politics and the political culture of African America. Culture politics—or the politics of culture—mainly refers to how people acquire, understand, and apply power in their relationships to one another. Such power relations, in turn, underwrite the formation of certain patterns of human values, discourses, attitudes, actions, or artifacts. By contrast, political culture—or the culture of politics—emphasizes how cultural patterns inform the institutions, organizations, and interest groups of public policy or governmental activity. With these two preliminary definitions in mind, this anthology aims to show that the New Negro was a major discursive cornerstone of racial representation in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. What is more, this discourse helped to generate the terms by which we describe and understand African American culture today.
The tropes, politics, and discourses of racial uplift that we intend to explain in this introduction outline the parameters of what could be thought of as "New Negro criticism." This tradition comprises not only essays that explicitly mention the term "New Negro," but also those involved in a wider critical conversation on race, representation, and African American culture—a conversation of which the trope of a New Negro was, of course, an original, defining feature. For this anthology, we have chosen a vast array of essays written by sophisticated critics, historians, and thinkers interested in anchoring the meanings of art, culture, and politics to racial Representation.
The Trope of a New Negro
Frederick Douglass, the great nineteenth-century writer and orator, was widely advertised during his lifetime as "the representative colored man of the United States." It was a designation that Douglass liked; indeed, he seemed to have encouraged its use. What a curious manner by which to be known, or by which to be recalled: the representative colored man of these United States. But in what sense was Frederick Douglass "representative"? In the sense of mode, or mean, or median? Certainly not Frederick Douglass, a man of learning, an author of three masterful autobiographies as well as hundreds of speeches and essays. Douglass could not be mistaken for the mean, the mode, or the median of the African American community of the nineteenth century. Clearly, another sense of representation obtains here, one that we tend to forget.
Douglass was the representative colored man in the United States because he was the most presentable. And he was the most presentable because of the presence he had established as a master of voice. When Douglass spoke or wrote, he did so "for" the Negro, in a relation of part for whole. He spoke to recreate the public face of the race. Douglass, then, was the most representative colored man both because he represented black people most eloquently and elegantly, and because he was the race's great opportunity to re-present itself in the court of racist public opinion. African Americans sought to re-present their public selves in order to reconstruct their public, reproducible images.
The word "reconstruction" and the concepts that it connotes are so familiar to American historians and to scholars of African American studies that we tend to forget the word's etymology and its complex layers of signification. The dictionary states that to reconstruct means "to construct anew in the mind; to restore [something past] mentally.""Reconstruction,"it tells us, consists of "the action or process of reconstructing," or "an instance or example of this; a thing reconstructed." "Reconstruction" is also the proper name for "the process by which after the Civil War the States which had seceded were restored to the rights and privileges of the Union." This period, we know, commenced officially with the passage (over President Andrew Johnson's veto) of the Reconstruction Act of 1867, and ended with what is known popularly as the Hayes-Tilden Compromise of 1877. Reconstruction, then, endured officially for a mere ten years, to be replaced by a dark period in American history known as Redemption, which Sterling Brown once said lasted in the South from roughly 1876 "to yesterday"! By the turn of the century, Southern Redemption had become fused with black disenfranchisement and the rise of the white supremacist movement, led by the Ku Klux Klan.
Moreover, the dictionary defines "construction" as the process of putting "a specified interpretation on." "Construction" also means "the action of framing, devising, or forming, by the putting together of parts." "Construction" signifies as well "the manner in which a thing is artificially constructed or naturally formed; structure, conformation, disposition." "Construction," finally, is "a thing constructed; a material structure; a formation of the mind or genius." Here, of greatest concern are the latter two definitions: the manner in which a thing is artificially formed, and the structure of a formation of the mind and the imagination. Of greatest concern, more specifically, are two antithetical figures of the black—the curious heritage of the New Negro, and the white figure of the black as Sambo— and the complex relation that obtains between them.
These two figures bear an antithetical relation to each other, and function in a relation of reversal. Whereas the image of a "New Negro" has served various generations of black intellectuals as a sign of plenitude, regeneration, or a truly reconstructed presence, the image of the black in what could be thought of as "Sambo Art" has served various generations of racists as a sign of lack, degeneration, or a truly negated absence. The two sets of figures can also be said to have a certain cause-and-effect relation. The fiction of an American Negro who is "now" somehow "new" or different from an "Old Negro" was sought to counter the image in the popular American imagination of the black as devoid of all the characteristics that supposedly separated the lower forms of human life from the higher forms.
In an accurate, if humorous, sense, blacks have felt the need to attempt to "reconstruct" their image probably since that dreadful day in 1619, when the first boatload of Africans disembarked in Virginia. Africans and their descendants commenced their cultural lives in this hemisphere as veritable deconstructions of all that the West so ardently wished itself to be. Almost as soon as blacks could write, it seems, they set out to redefine—against already received racist stereotypes—who and what a black person was, and how unlike the racist stereotype the black original could actually be. To counter these racist stereotypes, white and black writers erred on the side of nobility, and posited equally fictitious black archetypes, from Oroonoko in 1688 to Kunta Kinte in more recent times. If various Western cultures constructed blackness as an absence, then various generations of black authors have attempted to reconstruct blackness as a presence.
Reconstruction, of course, is a broad concept that, in regard to the Negro in America, spans a period longer than the decade separating the Reconstruction Act and the Hayes-Tilden Compromise. Indeed, black intellectual reconstruction commenced in the antebellum slave narratives, published mainly between the 1830s and the early 1860s, and ended (if indeed it has ended) in the decade after the New Negro, or Harlem, Renaissance of the 1920s. And the trope of reconstruction was the trope of the New Negro in African American discourse between Reconstruction and World War II. This long period, rather than the short one between 1867 and 1877, was the crux of the period of black intellectual reconstruction. For the literary critic, there is little choice. Between 1866 and 1877, for example, black people published as books only two novels, one in 1867 and one in 1871.Between 1892 and 1938, however, African American writers published close to seventy-five novels.
While a dramatic upsurge of energy in the American body politic had characterized the period known as Reconstruction, the corpus of African American literature and culture, on the other hand, enjoyed no such apparent vitalization. On the contrary, blacks published more novels between 1853 and 1865, when they were fighting slavery, than they did when they were at least nominally free, the freest that blacks had been since the day before they set sail for Virginia in 1619. It is as if the great and terrible subject of African American literature—slavery—found no immediate counterpart when blacks were freed. Once Redemption had established itself as a new form of enslavement for African Americans, they regained a public voice, louder and more strident than it had been even during slavery.
This stands as a paradox of our intellectual history. One of the most important contributions to African American literature between 1866 and 1877 was written not by a black person at all but by Mark Twain. His 1874 short story, "A True Story," purports to be "Aunt Rachel's" oral narration of her own enslavement, rendered entirely in what we call "dialect."2 In other words, Reconstruction was not a time of a great renaissance of African American letters, but the period between this moment and World War II was the era of the myth of a New Negro, a New Negro in search of a cultural renaissance capable of accommodating it.
The "New Negro," of course, was only a metaphor, a trope. The paradox of this claim was inherent in the trope itself, combining as it did a concern with time, antecedents, and heritage, on the one hand, with that for a cleared space, the public face of the race, on the other. The figure, moreover, combined implicitly both an eighteenth-century vision of utopia with a nineteenth-century idea of progress to form a black fin-de-siècle dream of an unbroken, unhabituated, neological self— signified by the upper case in "Negro" and the belated adjective "New." A paradox of this sort of self-willed beginning was that its "success" depended fundamentally upon self-negation, a turning away from the "Old Negro" and the labyrinthine memory of black enslavement and toward the register of a "New Negro," an irresistible, spontaneously generated black and sufficient self.
Perhaps a more profound paradox of this form of neological utopia was that this willed, ideal state of being and renewal could exist only in what Michel Foucault has called "the non-place of language,"precisely because it was mainly a rhetorical or discursive figure. And, just as utopia signifies "no-place," so did "New Negro" signify a "black person who lives at no place," and at no time.3 It was a bold and audacious act of language, signifying the will to power, to dare to recreate a race by renaming it, despite the dubiousness of the venture. It was this kind of racial-historical fiction—the weary black dream of a perfect state of being, with no history in particular detail, rather than the search for a group of black and especial historical entities—which contemporary literary scholars must historicize.
Frank E. and Fritzie P. Manuel, writing in Utopian Thought in the Western World (1979), have aptly characterized the latent content of all utopic thought thusly: "The great utopia startles and yet is recognized as conceivable. It is not a sleeping or bizarre vision but one that satisfies a hunger or stimulates the mind and the body to the recognition of a new potentiality [. . .]. It can be studied as a reflection of the specific crises that it presumes to resolve [. . .]. It may capture the anguish of an epoch in a striking metaphor."4 The weary dream of a perfected state of being, with no history, the dream of naming a second, new self, was emblematic of the anguish in African American history. This naming ritual, in short, was prefigured in the autobiographical texts of the ex-slaves published before 1865. Frederick Douglass called himself by three surnames before he stumbled upon "Douglass."5 Sojourner Truth, in her own autobiographical narrative, strongly recalls the naming of her newly freed self, and attributes that art to the grace of God:
My name was Isabella; but when I left the house of bondage, I left everything behind. I wan't goin' to keep nothin' of Egypt on me, an' so I went to the Lord an' asked him to give me a new name. An' the Lord give me Sojourner, because I was to travel up an' down the land, showin' the people their sins, an' bein' a sign unto them. Afterward I told de Lord I wanted another name, 'cause everybody else had two names; an de' Lord give me Truth, because I was to declare the truth to de people.6
In Up from Slavery (1901), Booker T. Washington, the Negro self as endowed institution, confirms Truth's declaration of the name as a "sign" of the self, even if a less natural relationship prevailed between the sign and its referent for most Negroes than it did for her: "After the coming of freedom there were two points upon which practically all the people on our place were agreed, and I find that this was generally true throughout the South: that they must change their names, and that they must leave the old plantation for at least a few days or weeks in order that they might really feel that they were free."7
From instances such as these, but multiplied, what was thought to apply to the part was willfully applied to the whole. At least since the creation in 1827 of the first black newspaper, Freedom's Journal, African Americans had displayed consistent, and perhaps undue, concern for their racial name. Especially full was the account of debates over the race's name at the turn of the twentieth century, as printed in Alexander's Magazine, the Voice of the Negro, Colored American Magazine, and the New York Age. The idea that the race's public perception turned largely upon the connotations of its name was a received and resistant one, as germane to African American intellectual history as was the idea of a direct relation between the race's creation of "art" and its realization of political desire. As we shall soon see, nowhere in African American history was this complex relation more evident than in the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s.
In the centuries before this period, the phrase "New Negro" was so compelling that one eighteenth-century writer, for example, felt called upon to define it for his 1745 readership of the London Magazine.8 What was curious even about this early definition was that the name already connoted, as it would later at the turn of the century, both a temporal order of succession and an ahistorical American experience. Furthermore, its connotation of a direct spatial association with Africa implied a state of consciousness, perhaps a form of racial dignity or integrity, a sort of "organic community," no longer even possible to aspire toward in the new world of enslavement. But this usage, as suggestive as it was, was an isolated one. It was the several definitions of the "New Negro" as the sign of a new racial and public self after Reconstruction that applied most directly to the Harlem Renaissance. This racial self, as we define it here, did not exist as an entity or group of entities, but "only" as a coded system of signs, complete with masks and mythology.
At least since its usages after Reconstruction, the name had implied a tension between strictly political concerns and strictly artistic concerns. Alain Locke's appropriation of the name in 1925 for his literary movement represented a measured coopting of the term from its fairly radical political connotations, as defined in the Messenger, the Crusader, the Kansas City Call, and the Chicago Whip, in bold essays and editorials printed during the post–World War I race "riots" in which African Americans rather ably defended themselves from mob aggression.
During the 1920s, the New Negro indeed had undergone changes of the profoundest sort. The two poles of this apparently drastic transformation, however, were present in even the earliest uses of the phrase. The sheer resonating preserve and force of this transformation can be gleaned somewhat from the fact that the postwar writings of Alain Locke and his contemporaries saw fit to graft, onto its postwar connotations of aggressive self-defense, the mythological and primitivistic defense of the racial self that was the basis of the Harlem Renaissance.
New Negro Politics
In the brief history above, which states that the concept of the New Negro implied a tension between political concerns and artistic concerns, what was the exact nature of this tension? What definition or kind of politics created it? Is it the politics of culture (cultural politics), or the culture of politics (political culture)?
Certain scholars today have discouraged the misapplication of "politics" in histories of African American culture. For example, in W.E.B. Du Bois and American Political Thought (1997), Adolph L. Reed, Jr. has accused literary historians—and perhaps cultural historians more generally—of "unhelpfully blur[ring] the distinction between cultural history and the history of social and political thought, such that the former has tended to substitute for the latter." These historians ascribe "politics" to African American culture, especially as it relates to social behavior and art, in ways that presumably a political historian would dismiss as ahistorical, if not also too hagiographical. Accurate definitions of politics should include issues of "legitimacy, justice, obligation, the meaning of equality, or the nature of the polity"; "demography, social psychology, political economy, or public opinion"; not to mention the conventions of government.9
Analogous critiques of African Americanist approaches to politics have arisen in literary studies, too. In So Black and Blue (2003), Kenneth W. Warren provides an important way of thinking about how and why historians should distinguish between "direct black political action" and "indirect cultural politics." Direct black political action acknowledges that "race [. . .] is at bottom a problem of politics and economics—of constitution making and of wielding power legislatively and economically in order to mobilize broad constituencies to preserve an unequal social order." In this context, African Americans have used activist, legislative, judicial, or public-policy means to access institutional resources and power, and to exploit them for their own best interests as racialized subjects. Indirect cultural politics, by contrast, signifies the efforts of African American intellectuals and artists, after the "failure" of Reconstruction, to operate "outside the political realm of direct representation—whether one did so literarily, sociologically, philosophically, administratively, or philanthropically." By way of this distinction, Warren identifies a long historical trend in African American intellectualism tracing back to a post-Reconstruction "cultural turn in black politics," when African American leaders and uplifters linked cultural to political arbitrations of racial representation. According to Warren, this logic was flawed because culture was not—and has not been ever since—as responsible and transformative as direct political action.10
Warren's call for more accurate historical contexts that account for the cultural turn does not decry—as much as Reed does—contemporary academic interest in cultural politics. But his assumption that "direct black political action" is more transformative than "indirect cultural politics" neglects those instances in African American history when cultural politics and political culture were more mutually dependent than he makes them appear. Moreover, there are successful examples when African Americans sought, in a sense, to make cultural politics as "direct" as possible.
Recently, scholars such as Barbara Foley, Marlon B. Ross, Anne Elizabeth Carroll, and Martha Jane Nadell have supported this point. They have studied various aspects of "New Negro politics," a paradigm encapsulating black and white interest in the cultural politics and the political culture of racial representation. In Spectres of 1919: Class and Nation in the Making of the New Negro (2003), Foley details the New Negro's ideological transition from political radicalism in 1919 to romantic culturalism in 1925, while Ross in Manning the Race: Reforming Black Men in the Jim Crow Era (2004) shows that the gender and sexual assumptions about African American men placed certain pressures on, and created certain impressions within, New Negro political discourse between the Civil War and the early twentieth century. Ross also gestures to how African Americans tried to control the cultural politics of racial representation through artistic forms more accessible and emotive than literary art. Carroll's Word, Image, and the New Negro: Representation and Identity in the Harlem Renaissance (2005) and Nadell's Enter the New Negroes: Images of Race in American Culture (2004) elaborate this idea by examining the relationship between written words and visual images in New Negro politics. While Carroll celebrates the multimedia legacy of African American culture, Nadell exposes the discursive limitations of words and images intrinsic to this legacy. Published within the past few years, these four books mark a crucial moment in the academic study of New Negro politics. The new scholarship demonstrates that the political inflation of culture in African American studies has not been as misguided as we have been led to believe.11
Working in concert with this scholarship, this anthology illustrates the significance of New Negro politics to our understanding of African American history. In the first section of the anthology, entitled "The New Negro," the reprinted essays provide an ideal context for determining the cultural role of the New Negro in the history of African American political mobilization. Conversely, as we shall soon see, the construct helps us to realize the original political role of racial representation in the development of African American culture.
Certain black leaders, for example, rhetorically aligned the international, imperialist war being waged in Europe with the domestic, racial war being waged in the United States. In a 1919 editorial published in The Crisis, W.E.B. Du Bois decries the wartime mistreatment of Negro troops in France, whom white Americans at home and abroad had unfairly, and excessively, accused of raping women, among other atrocities. The admirable participation of African American soldiers in an international struggle on behalf of America and its European allies against the German military, according to Du Bois's testimony, could not alleviate the soldiers' concerns that their home country "represents and gloats in lynching, disenfranchisement, caste, brutality and devilish insult" of the darker-skinned race. Consequently, African Americans did not desire just to "return from fighting,"but to "return fighting" on behalf of "Democracy."12
If we investigate ideological areas in postwar New Negro discourse other than left-wing radicalism, we can see that Du Bois's political-warrior mentality had resonated among black intellectuals. In his 1920 book, When Africa Awakes: The "Inside Story" of the Stirrings and Strivings of the New Negro in the Western World, Hubert H. Harrison argues that the New Negro must embrace a "Race First" philosophy that realizes the importance of direct political representation and action: "The new Negro race in America will not achieve political self-respect until it is in a position to organize itself as a politically independent party." Outlined in the chapter entitled "The New Politics: The New Politics for the New Negro," Harrison further contends that African Americans must "demand, not 'recognition,' but representation, and we are out to throw our votes to any party which gives us this, and withhold them from any party which refuses to give it," which at this time was the Republican Party. Granted, he suggests unrealistically later in the chapter that a New Negro could become president of the United States if the race concentrated its votes around that candidate—whose African ancestry, by the way, needed to be indiscernible to the naked eye. But Harrison's nearly Garveyistic idea that the development of racial-political consciousness and nationalism marked the Negro's transition from Old to New was deemed quite practical by his contemporaries.
Of course, the publications of essays and books like Du Bois's and Harrison's did not discourage certain writers from accusing the New Negro of being politically meaningless. In "The New Negro Hokum" (1928), Gustavus Adolphus Stewart laments that the Negro secures governmental positions that are at best "secondrate," without significant influence. The level of iconoclastic cynicism characterizing this article, however, insinuates Stewart's degree of disingenuousness. Rhetorically, it resembles the original article after which Stewart modeled his essay, George S. Schuyler's "The Negro-Art Hokum" (1926), which similarly masked the author's true belief in the Negro's political salience.13
Schuyler's iconoclastic campaign, it turns out, began amid the public debate over Alain Locke, his ambassadorial status, and his two edited collections of 1925, "Harlem: Mecca of the New Negro" (The Survey Graphic Number [March 1]) and, its later edition in book form, The New Negro: An Interpretation. Locke's romantic construction of the New Negro neglected the depth and complexity of African American struggle. The wartime and postwar New Negro was actually undergoing an ideological evolution, or what Barbara Foley has called "devolution." This idea helps us to avoid the conventional apolitical story of the Negro symbolically transmuting from Old to New in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. In reality, Locke's romantic New Negro was a "militant, card-carrying, gun-toting Socialist who refused to turn the other cheek," a "New Negro class struggle warrior," or a "gun-brandishing New Negro." Modern political culture, in short, revolved about the New Negro. According to Foley: "In the revolutionary crucible of 1919, the term New Negro signified a fighter against both racism and capitalism; to be a political moderate did not preclude endorsement of at least some aspects of a class analysis of racism or sympathy with at least some goals of the Bolshevik Revolution." In periodicals ranging from Call, Liberator, and Worker's Monthly to Negro World, Messenger, and Crusader, antiracist discourse portrayed the New Negro, through a class frame of analysis, as a political activist of both national and international stature.14
Through Locke's popular 1925 collections, however, New Negro discourse shifted from political radicalism to romantic culturalism. That ideological turn within the New Negro movement pivoted on Locke's hegemonic tropes of the "folk," vis-à-vis his proclamation that African American art and culture were undergoing a rebirth of extraordinary proportions. Although only a glimmer in some of his earlier, pre-Renaissance writings and lectures, Locke relatively succeeded in disengaging African American culture from radicalism in The New Negro. Through the revision of certain essays to the omission of others that conjured up radical sentiment, Locke suppressed in his 1925 collections the idea that the New Negro was radical both in tone and in purpose.15 Romanticized as ahistorical, lower-class, and authentically black, the folk served as metonym or synecdoche of the African American community, lubricating Locke's turn from racial antagonism to racial amelioration. The consequent decline in production and consumption of left-leaning New Negro cultural politics, in other words, was, to a certain degree, an accurate compass for the direction of larger U.S. political culture.16
Locke's relationship to political radicalism came full circle in the 1930s. If one interprets Richard Wright's historic essay, "Blueprint for Negro Writing" (1937), as a 1930s (as opposed to pre-Renaissance) version of New Negro radicalism, then we can see that Locke's early-1930s writings anticipate, and even concede, Wright's critique of the Harlem Renaissance. Both Wright and Locke pointed out the ideological disconnections, once exacerbated by the Renaissance, between the proletariat and the intelligentsia of African American society. What is more, Wright's demand that the African American writer should meet the "serious responsibility" of doing "justice to his subject matter, in order to depict Negro life in all its manifold and intricate relationships," echoed Locke's insistence that the African American writer should avoid the "spiritual truancy and social irresponsibility" of Claude McKay, for example. Although once a New Negro radical, McKay lived abroad from 1922 to 1934, compromising his relationship to African American cultural, intellectual, and political institutions.17
All this means that the powerful transfer of cultural ambassadorship from Locke to Wright—that is, from the Harlem Renaissance to the so-called Chicago Renaissance—did not operate through extreme philosophical disagreement. Rather, it occurred through their mutual recognition of the decline of the Harlem Renaissance, the African American cultural opportunities afforded by political radicalism, and the importance of pragmatic collaborations between writers and "the people" during the long New Negro movement. In sum, the ideas of Wright and Locke were more continuous in the 1930s than their long-standing and divergent reputations as deans of the Harlem Renaissance and the Chicago Renaissance, respectively, have led us to believe.
Published one year after Wright's "Blueprint for Negro Writing," George S. Schuyler's "The Rise of the Black Internationale" similarly captures the political mood of the New Negro, but it does so from a more global perspective. Schuyler characterizes black political internationalism as the penultimate stage of the New Negro's "arrival":
The New Negro is here. Perhaps no more courageous than the Old Negro who dropped his shackles in 1863, and fought against ignorance, propaganda, lethargy and persecution, but better informed, privy to his past, understanding of the present, unafraid of the future. [. . .] He believes that to combat this White Internationale of oppression a Black Internationale of liberation is necessary. He sees and welcomes a community of interest of all colored peoples. No longer ignorant, terrorized or lacking confidence, he waits, and schemes and plans. He is the Damoclean sword dangling over the white world. Everywhere he is on the march, he cannot be stopped, and he knows it.
Schuyler's words belong to a long history of African American discourse on New Negro local and global politics, spanning from the postbellum nineteenth century to the first years of the twenty-first. They bespeak the historic desire of many African Americans to know why America's optimistic democratic project remains unfinished. The New Negro, it turned out, captured the political goal of certain African Americans to facilitate this project for uplifting the race and, by extension, for the betterment of the nation and the world.
New Negro Uplift
New Negroes, in marked contrast with their enslaved or disenfranchised ancestors, demanded that their rights as citizens be vouchsafed by law. Significantly, New Negroes were to be recognized by what editorials in the 1890s called "education," "refinement," and "money," with property rights strongly implied as the hallmark of those who can demand their political rights. "Property," in this sense, was only one of a list of "properties" demanded of this New Negro. "Education" and "refinement"—to speak properly was to be proper—would ensure one's rights, along with the security of property.
Curiously, as the first section of this anthology, "The New Negro," attests, these terms of racial uplift came to bear on subsequent definitions of African American culture. For example, J.W.E. Bowen, writing in An Appeal to the King (1895), defines the New Negro only in terms of racial "consciousness" and its relation to "civilization": "the consciousness of a racial personality under the blaze of a new civilization." Bowen's "New Negro" led directly to the Harlem Renaissance, for it was above all through literature that both "a racial personality" and "the blaze of a new civilization" manifested themselves. Bowen's New Negro tried to create a universal racial art.
Booker T. Washington, Fannie Barrier Williams, and N. B. Wood dreamed of A New Negro for a New Century. The book was an elaborately constructed compendium of excerpted black histories, slave narratives, journalism, biographical sketches, and extended defenses of the combat performances of black soldiers from the American Revolution and "the Rebellion" to the Spanish-American War, in general, and the actions of "Regulars in the Philippines" and "Regulars in Cuba," more specifically. Published in 1900 and subtitled "An Accurate and Up-to-Date Record of the Upward Struggles of the Negro Race," A New Negro clearly intended to "turn" the new century's image of the black away from the stereotypes scattered throughout plantation fictions, blackface minstrelsy, vaudeville, racist pseudoscience, and vulgar social Darwinism. The task was an enormous one. African American society had only the most minimal control over the mass production and dissemination of information, and its intellectuals believed that their racist treatment in life merely imitated their racist "treatments" in art. Accordingly, to manipulate the image of the Negro was, in a sense, to manipulate reality. The public Negro self, therefore, was an entity to be crafted.
And craft it Washington and his fellow editors attempted to do. The whole of A New Negro—some 428 pages and 60 portraits—reads now as a complex, if bulky, sign of the individual achievements of black men and women as abolitionists, soldiers, and artists. It also reads as a sign of the twentieth century's "New Negroes," the "progressive" classes of the race, who were forming numerous self-help institutions, such as "Colored Women's Clubs," which were key indicators of the race's capacity for "elevation." These two metaphors, by the way, along with the myriad versions of the vernacular phrase "we is risin,'"were echoes of the eighteenth-century terminology of racial uplift, related to the idea of a vertical great chain of being, along which both races and individuals "rose" from the animal kingdom to the most sublime instances of humanity, such as those frequently identified with the mathematician Isaac Newton and the poet John Milton. "Capacity" designated physical cranial measurements, but it quickly became the metaphor for the measure of the potential of human intelligence. The following lines from Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, quoted in Mrs. Booker T. Washington's essay on the "Club Movement among Negro Women" in J. L. Nichols and William H. Crogman's 1920 edition of The New Progress of a Race, indicate these origins clearly:
There is light beyond the darkness,
A New Negro's use of the keyword "progressive" dozens of times corresponds directly to an idea of progress through perfectibility, an eighteenth-century idea of racial uplift. Booker T. Washington's New Negro, then, stood at a point on the great chain head and shoulders above the ex-slave black person, freed now for only thirty-five years. As the introduction postures: "This book has been rightly named A New Negro for a New Century. The negro of today is in every phase of life far advanced over the negro of thirty years ago. In the following pages the progressive life of the African American people has been written in the light of achievements that will be surprising to people who are ignorant of the enlarging life of these remarkable people." Of this anthology's eighteen chapters, no less than seven are histories of black involvement in American wars, while six chapters "unmask" slavery. Rather creatively, a large part of this material derives from the writings of African American historians such as George Washington Williams, William C. Nell, and William Grant Still. "Heroes and Martyrs" to the race are John Brown, Calvin Fairbanks, William Lloyd Garrison, and Elijah P. Lovejoy, while two men and two women—Frederick Douglass, Toussaint L'Ouverture, Phillis Wheatley, and Sojourner Truth—are accorded the unusual privilege of being called "Fathers [and Mothers] to the Race."
Two chapters in the collection treat the "Club Movement among Colored Women," and another charts the educational progress of the race. Booker T. Washington's portrait forms the frontispiece of the volume, while Mrs. Washington's portrait concludes the book, thus standing as framing symbols of the idea of progress.18 Between this handsome pair are portraits of military figures, such as Antonio Maceo, Maximo Gomez, Charles E. Young, and John H. Alexander; creative writers such as Paul Laurence Dunbar, T. Thomas Fortune, Charles W. Chesnutt, and Frederick Douglass; scholars including W. S. Scarborough, H. T. Kealing, S. Laing Williams, and W.E.B. Du Bois; and notable women such as Mary Church Terrell, Anna J. Cooper, Dr. Ida Grey Nelson, Miss Lulu Love, and Fannie Barrier Williams, all of whom appear to be very "progressive" indeed.
The concomitant militaristic emphasis in A New Negro intends to refute claims made by Theodore Roosevelt in Scribner's Magazine in 1899 of the inherent racial weaknesses that prevented black officers from commanding effectively, thus making mandatory, in subsequent wars, their command by white officers. Almost the whole of Sgt. Presley Holliday's rebuttal, printed initially in the New York Age in 1899, appears in A New Negro, along with the histories of black valor in every American war. The tone of these essays is fairly represented by Holliday's claim that black soldiers in the Civil War "turned the tide of war against slavery and the Rebellion, in favor of freedom and the Union." To have fought nobly, clearly, was held to be a legitimate argument for full citizenship rights.
Fannie Barrier Williams's essay, "The Club Movement among Colored Women of America," furthermore, is pertinent evidence here of an urge to displace racial heritage with an ideal of sexual bonding. "To feel that you are something better than a slave, or a descendant of an ex-slave," she writes, "to feel that you are a unit in the womanhood of a great nation and a great civilization, is the beginning of self-respect and the respect of your race." It is this direct relationship between the self and the race, between the part and the whole, that is the unspoken premise of A New Negro. As much as transforming a white racist image of the black, then A New Negro's intention was to restructure the race's image of itself. As Williams puts this necessity: "The consciousness of being fully free has not yet come to the great mass of the colored women in this country," in part because "the emancipation of the mind and spirit of the race could not be accomplished by legislation." This call to "progress" and "respectability," therefore, was meant to marshal the masses of the race into the regiments of the New Negroes who, of course, would command them. And if"Zip Coon,""Sambo,"and "Mammy"were thought to be the stereotyped figments of racist minds, there was just enough lingering doubt about their capacities for progress for Washington and his cohorts to structure a manifesto directed as much at them as at sensitive, intelligent, and wealthy whites.
Fannie Barrier Williams, writing in Crogman's 1902 edition of The Intellectual Progress of the Colored Women of the United States since the Emancipation Proclamation, again in an essay entitled "The Club Movement among Colored Women of America," places the black woman at the center of the New Negro's philosophy of self-respect and racial uplift. "The Negro woman's club of today," she maintains, "represents the New Negro with new powers of self-help." Two years later, in 1904, John Henry Adams, Jr., in a Voice of the Negro essay called "A Study of the Features of the New Negro Woman," concurs with Williams's assessment of the central role of African American women in the New Negro movement, and even goes so far as to reproduce images of several ideal New Negro women so that other women might pattern themselves after the prototype.
Undaunted, two months later John Henry Adams published the male companion piece to his earlier essay. "The New Negro Man" appeared in the October 1904 number of the Voice of the Negro. Again, Adams is eager to chart the unpainted features of this New Negro:
Here is the real new Negro man. Tall, erect, commanding, with a face as
As he had done in his essay on the New Negro woman, Adams prints seven portraits of the New Negro man, so that all might be able to recognize him. What is of importance here is Adams's stress upon the "features" of this "new" Negro, drawing a correlation between the specific characteristics of the individuals depicted and the larger, uplifted character of the race. Why is this so important? Precisely because the features of the race—its collective mouth-shape and lip-size, the shape of its head (which especially concerned phrenologists at the turn of the century), its black skin color, its kinky hair—had been caricatured and stereotyped so severely in popular American art that black intellectuals seemed to feel that nothing less than a full facelift and a complete break with the enslaved past could ameliorate the social conditions of the modern Negro. While this concern with features would imply a visual or facial priority, it was also the precise structure and resonance of the black voice by which the very face of the race would be known and fundamentally reconstructed. Both to contain and develop this voice, a virtual cultural renaissance was called for.
The trope of the New Negro did not disappear between 1904 and the 1920s, when it resurfaced as the sign of the cultural movement that contained the New Negro voice. Ray Stannard Baker outlines his idea of the New Negro in 1908 in Following the Color Line. In 1916, William Pickens published a book of essays entitled The New Negro, and two years later in 1918, the "New Negro" Magazine, edited by August Valentine Bernier, made its brief appearance. Between January and March of 1920, the New York Age published an open forum entitled "The New Negro— What Is He? Does the New Negro Differ from the Negro of the Past?"
We have come a remarkably long way from Booker T. Washington's image of the New Negro at the turn of the century. The militancy of the reconstructed image of his figure of the New Negro was both too potent and too problematical to predominate within the black intelligentsia. As mentioned earlier, in 1925 Alain Locke edited special editions that served both to codify and launch a New Negro cultural movement. But Locke's New Negro served in yet another capacity: it transformed the militancy associated with the trope and translated it into a romantic, apolitical movement of the arts—which his debate with Du Bois over aesthetics versus propaganda made clear. Locke's New Negro was an artist, and it would be in the sublimity of the fine arts, and not in the political sphere of action or protest poetry, that Anglo America (it thought) would at last embrace the Negro of 1925, a Negro ahistorical, a Negro who was "just like" every other American, a Negro more deserving than the Old Negro because he had been reconstructed as an entity somehow "new."
Race, Representation, and African American Culture
The section "How Should Art Portray the Negro?" begins this anthology's turn toward the general intellectual discussion of the political role of racial representation in African American culture. In her essay, Anna Julia Cooper critiques the literature of William Howells, the "dean" of American literature in the late nineteenth century, because of its caricatures of Negroes and its oversimplification of their lives and struggles. Although Albion Tourgée and George Washington Cable drew more realistic images of the Negro, Cooper nonetheless concludes that "an authentic portrait, at once aesthetic and true to life, presenting the black man as a free American citizen, not the humble slave of [Harriet Beecher Stowe's 1853 novel] Uncle Tom's Cabin—but the man, divinely struggling and aspiring yet tragically warped and distorted by the adverse winds of circumstance, has not yet been painted." The other writers of this section—most notably, Paul Laurence Dunbar, Charles W. Chesnutt, William Stanley Braithwaite, and the prominent contributors to a 1926 symposium in The Crisis magazine—to an extent reiterate Cooper's frustration. By recalling nineteenth- and twentieth-century art in the United States and Europe, they arrive at Cooper's own opinion that artistic portrayals of the black race should aspire to acceptable standards of historical realism and racial-political diplomacy. Ultimately, they believe, the success of this project hinges not only on the expertise of black artists but on the cooperation of whites as well.
The next section, "The Renaissance," revolves around the implications of racial representation for African American culture. The essays illustrate how black and white intellectuals connected New Negro politics to particular cultural-historical phenomena, philosophical debates, and culture genres. In 1924, W.E.B. Du Bois, for example, called the collective emergence of talented Negro authors a remarkable "younger literary movement"—that is, younger than his own literary generation of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Charles W. Chesnutt—that was revising the norms of class, society, and sexuality. One year later, Alain Locke, the putative dean of this movement, which he termed a "Negro Renaissance," likewise recognized a "younger generation" of black writers for whom racial experience provided the material for their creative expression. He also argued that their movement coincided with the advancement of white writers toward more realistic—if less Old Negro— portrayals of African America. For Locke, such images demonstrated sensitivity, tact, and realism unlike the minstrel images found in the plantation tradition of Anglo-American literature in the postbellum nineteenth century, or in the equally racist but more threatening, violent, and Negrophobic images found in early twentieth-century Anglo-American literature.
Carl Van Vechten, in his review of Locke's The New Negro, agrees. Van Vechten takes issue with William Stanley Braithwaite, a Negro poet-critic featured in Locke's book, who kept recycling the "old cliché that Negro novels must be written by Negroes." H.L.Mencken's 1926 review of The New Negro and the subsequent reflections on the Harlem Renaissance, especially by Carl Van Doren, Benjamin Brawley, Martha Gruening, and Allison Davis, all speculate on the degree to which the African American cultural efflorescence could be called simply a fad, a vogue for things primitive and exotic, a commercial bubble of patronage and fetishism destined to burst. On the one hand, the essays in this section of the anthology move us to consider whether the Harlem Renaissance was a failure or a success. On the other hand, they also demand a more sophisticated inquiry into whether the scholarly prevalence or disregard of these terms serves as a reliable index of the ideological or philosophical tendencies of African American studies in the past few decades.19
The section "Art or Propaganda?" covers the tension in African American cultural history between art for the sake of art and art for the sake of racial politics. The central point of contention appears between Du Bois and Locke. In 1926,Du Bois remarked that the desire of black artists to conform to public expectations, held mainly by whites and adopted by blacks, led them to perpetuate false racial stereotypes, to cling to obsequious attitudes toward whites, as well as to settle into political ambivalence or complacency. Thus he advocated the kind of Negro art in which the apostle of "beauty" intertwined with those of "truth," "goodness," "justice," "honor," and what was "right." In the end, art should express propaganda so that it could "gain[] the right of black folk to love and enjoy," a right that should go hand in hand with black political demands for fair, humane treatment in U.S. society and around the world.
Du Bois's disregard, in his words, of the "wailing of the purists" partially indicted Locke's position on art and propaganda. Indeed, Locke's 1928 and 1936 essays—"Art or Propaganda?" and "Propaganda—or Poetry?"—reveal his long-held belief that propaganda must presuppose myths of black inferiority in order to build its refutation of them. Propaganda was thus an inevitable limitation of black self-expression and creativity in the arts. Unsurprisingly, in the latter essay, Locke admonishes the new proletarian wave of African American writers "not to ignore or eliminate the race problem, but to broaden its social dimensions and deepen its universal human implications." One year later, in 1937, however, Richard Wright redeemed Du Bois's criteria for Negro art in the name of "protest." Wright presented a blueprint for Negro writing that refuses to go "a-begging to white America" for self-justification or for the imagination of wide social impact.
The next four sections of this anthology survey major genres of African American culture. The first part of the section, "Literature: History and Theory," begins with essays that historicize or theorize literary representations of the race. More specifically, the omnibus essays on African American literary history by Du Bois, Thomas L. G. Oxley, and Benjamin Brawley examine the range and complexity of African American literary accomplishments and struggles. Equally erudite essays by Katherine Tillman and Victoria Earle Matthews corroborate these accounts, but not without foregrounding the important political role of women in racial advancement. Moreover, Arthur Schomburg and Alice Dunbar-Nelson, respectively, turn to such intellectual paradigms as archaeology and pedagogy to devise the best, if most practical, ways of imagining and recovering African American literary history, while Robert E. Park and Fred DeArmond apply sociology in order to limn what Park has called the "human nature" or "inner life" of African American authors. Finally, Zora Neale Hurston's outline of the "characteristics of Negro expression" links the history of Negro authorship to theories of black aesthetic and cultural typology.
The essays by Brenda Ray Moryck and James Weldon Johnson anticipate the articles in the next part of the section, which talk mainly about the literary profession and marketplace for black authors. The key, recurring ideas—raised by Hubert H. Harrison, Willis Richardson, James Weldon Johnson, and Sterling Brown—touch on the tense relationship between black authors and their white editors, publishers, and readers who imposed on these authors certain expectations about what they could or should write about. In their essays, George W. Jacobs (a pseudonym for George S. Schuyler), Claude McKay, and Eugene Holmes confront the implications of such external burdens for the creative options and freedom of African American authors.
The last part of this section illuminates many of these themes in the context of poetry. Aside from James Weldon Johnson in his now-famous preface to the 1922 edition of The Book of American Negro Poetry, several authors in his era were talking at length about poetry as a crucial form of literary art. Given that contemporary scholars tend to focus mostly on fiction when they survey African American literary history after the death of Paul Laurence Dunbar in 1906, this selected group of essays should support the case that poetry always held a special place in the minds of black intellectuals, even in the minds of such luminaries as Wallace Thurman and Alain Locke, whom scholars have celebrated more often for their writing and editing of prose than for their poetics.
The next section, "Music," focuses on the spirituals and jazz. Several of the writers, especially Paul Laurence Dunbar and W.E.B. Du Bois, portrayed spirituals as the key to realizing the collective trauma of slaves and their ancestors as they struggled against colonialism in Africa, the middle passage, and the institution of slavery in the New World. While Alain Locke, John W. Work, and Zora Neale Hurston recognized the thematic interplay of religion and secularity born out of this genre of African American music, Hurston and Laurence Buermeyer examined the specific formal properties of the spirituals as well as their cultural and commercial development over the centuries as "folk-songs." B. A. Botkin comments on several of these issues in his review-essay of recent collections and scholarship devoted to "workaday" songs.
Several of these writers on the spirituals resorted to such stereotypes as "primitive" and "simple" to characterize black creativity. Similarly, certain writers on jazz—exemplified by Walter Kingsley, a supposed "authority" on the subject— consistently restricted the music to the idea that black demonstrations of rhythm result from a "savage" or "exotic" racial inheritance. However, other writers, namely
J. A. Rogers, R.W.S. Mendl, and Louis Armstrong, broadened the history of jazz beyond denigrating myths of African culture. They considered instead the musical genre's modern formal and cultural development in America, above all in New Orleans and, to a lesser extent, in the great cities of the Midwest, Northeast, and West Coast, as the best context for speculating on the nature and future of jazz.
One thematic subtext in the selected criticism on music, theater, and the fine arts is that print literacy is not a precondition for the mass consumption of these cultural media. Rollin Lynde Hartt follows up on this point in his essay, included in the section "Theater." He refutes the prevailing idea that the "Negro press" is the primary means by which African American leaders could influence their constituencies. The commercial proliferation of theaters and movie houses managed and owned by African Americans supported his counterargument that these cultural media are poised to be more influential than the Negro press.
Rowena Woodham Jelliffe and Montgomery Gregory echoed Hartt's indication of the "vast potentialities in this field." Indeed, Negro theater had evolved within and against minstrelsy and vaudeville in the nineteenth century and on Broadway in the early twentieth century. The essays by Gregory, Paul Robeson, Jessie Fauset, and Alain Locke view the more complex dramatic roles of Negroes—including the "noble savage" roles of Robeson in Eugene O'Neill's plays—as a defining and welcome stage in the growth of Negro theater. Fauset took this idea one step further. Humor or comedy, she asserted, was a therapeutic way for African American actors and their audiences to grapple with and overcome the trauma of racial oppression. In some ways, her notion of the "gift of laughter" resembles similar ideas in Paul Laurence Dunbar's poem "We Wear the Mask" in Majors and Minors (1896) and Langston Hughes's Laughing to Keep from Crying (1952). Taking a different, if cynical, approach, Ralph Matthews—writing from the position of theater editor of Baltimore's Afro-American in 1934—contended that Negro theater rehashes many of the same racial stereotypes found in nineteenth-century minstrelsy and vaudeville, just in more subtle and modern ways. Negro theater, in his words, was akin to a "Dodo Bird, an extinct fowl which, as was later revealed, did not exist at all," or was at best a fleeting cultural phenomenon.
The last section, "The Fine Arts," addresses painting and sculpture. Essays by Alain Locke, Harry Alan Potamkin, and Romare Bearden seek to dispel the notion that art created by the African diaspora was merely an exotic fad during the years after World War I. Rather, their serious analyses of the history and nature of African art and Negro art demonstrated their collective belief that, in the words of Bearden, this field required "some standard of criticism then, not only to stimulate the artist, but also to raise the cultural level of the people."
Of these three writers, Locke above all heeded this idea. By publishing criticism on African art in reputable magazines ranging from Opportunity to the American Magazine of Art, Locke cemented his stature as one of the leading and most prolific art critics in the early twentieth century. (The multiple selections of Locke's essays in this anthology reflect the great diversity, frequency, and value of his critical writings.) His 1924 essay "A Note on African Art" forms a core part of his writings on African "ancestral art" in The New Negro. Here, he focused on how African art and European art had both factored into the African American achievement of a "characteristic idiom" that could be called New (World) Negro art. Locke's essentialist articulation of the artists and cultural geographies of Europe, Africa, and African America hoped to reveal the legacy of the ancestral arts. While making this case, Locke accused the dean of American painters, African American artist Henry Ossawa Tanner, for perpetuating "the conventional blindness of the Caucasian eye with respect to the racial material at their immediate disposal." Tanner's avoidance of racial realism in his paintings—or, equally reprehensible in Tanner's early career, his paintings of Negroes playing banjos and dancing—was a symptom of his cultural alienation from what Locke called the "folk" of African America. The white ethnocentrism and cultural privilege of Tanner's academic training in Europe, Locke went on to say, dissuaded him from creating more racially pragmatic and politically responsible art that provided the kind of progressive images the Harlem Renaissance needed.20 Jessie Fauset's 1924 interview of Tanner in The Crisis conceivably stoked Locke's emotional fire. For all the Harlem Renaissance community to see, Fauset lauded the person "known internationally now as a painter of religious subjects" and as "the great Artist" who was then staying in America, mostly in New York City, for a three-month tour. The discrepancy between Locke's concern with Tanner's painterly alienation from black folk, on the one hand, and Fauset's praise of Tanner's professional accomplishments despite and because of his expatriation, on the other, illustrates the extent to which the politics of racial representation— both as embodied by Negro artists and within their works—shaped and were shaped by critical evaluations of African American culture.
◆ ◆ ◆
The essays reprinted in this anthology are first grouped by thematic sections to display the common subjects on which intellectuals, black and white, wrote between Reconstruction and World War II. Within these sections, the essays are laid out in chronological order, alerting readers to the fact that those subjects were always historically contingent, at once time-bound yet changing across time.21
To repeat an earlier point, the number and variety of essays chosen for this anthology should remind readers that the term "New Negro" did not have to be explicitly invoked in order for its implicit political discourses on race, representation, and African American culture to constitute a tradition of New Negro criticism. Put simply, people were talking about Old Negroes and New Negroes even when they were not referring to these tropes by name. When abstracted in this way, one can see that the politics of racial representation remains relevant today, when labels such as "Uncle Tom" conjure up not only the cultural history of black stereotypes, but also the current controversy surrounding black political responsibility, or lack thereof.22 In the following pages, the documents of New Negro criticism should lay the basis on which future intellectual approaches to race, representation, and African American culture could be built.
Henry Louis Gates, Jr., Harvard University
Gene Andrew Jarrett, Boston University
File created: 9/27/2007
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text:
Emergen-C is once again offering free samples of Emergen-C vitamin drink mix packages to residents of the U.S. and Canada.
Just complete the online form for your free sample of Emergen-C today.
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subset: commoncrawl


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Time is on Novartis's Side in Alcon Bid
Novartis's bet that with time it would win over Alcon Inc.'s shareholders seems to be paying off.
Since the Swiss pharma giant bought a majority stake in the eye-care firm earlier this year, resistance from Alcon's minority shareholders to Novartis's offer their shares has been stiff, putting it under pressure to raise the price tag.
Alcon's independent directors committee repeatedly balked at the offer, saying it was too low when compared to what Novartis paid to Nestlé SA for its 77% stake in Alcon. Although a valid argument, Novartis rejected Alcon's complaint, saying Nestlé's majority stake deserved a premium.
But resistance from minority shareholders may be fading.


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Charlie Crist Vetoes Abortion Bill
The latest in the political evolution of Florida Gov. Charlie Crist: the former Republican vetoed a bill today that would have required a woman seeking an abortion during the first trimester to pay for an ultrasound.
Crist has had a nuanced stance on abortion—or, as his Republican opponents say, a changing view. The Almanac of American Politics notes that early in his career he described himself as "pro-choice," but in 2008—when he was seen as a rising star in the Republican Party—he was "pro-life."
Now, in vetoing the bill, he has sided with abortion rights supporters.
Crist said the bill "places an inappropriate burden" on women. It is the third time in recent months that he has vetoed a bill approved by the Republican-controlled legislature—decisions that are fraught with political implications as he runs an independent bid for the U.S. Senate.
His political opponents seized on the veto. Democratic Rep. Kendrick Meek had called on Crist to veto the bill, but said today that the governor "can never escape his anti-choice past." Republican Marco Rubio also criticized the governor for the veto.
A local Florida station reported that Crist's campaign Web site has removed anti-abortion language.


text:
If you're in love with OS X and love how Apple introduced the wide-screen thing with the PowerBooks and Cinema screens but want it all on the go for your pocket, then you may be interested in X5. It's a variant of OS X for the Sony PSP. Forget about Sony's lack of software for the killer game unit, with X5 you get 10 applications including "Address Book". The X5 site also calls "System Preferences" an application, but I don't know if I'd agree with that. Interestingly enough, the site continues to list an intriguing feature, stating, "Exclusive media downloads from 'Movies', to 'Pictures'." Not sure if that means there's a BitTorrent for this or not, but I guess there's some way to get movies and pictures onto your OS X for the PSP.
This is for sure an interesting little hack for your PSP and if you're into adventures, you may want to give X5 a try. Don't worry, your PSP will still play games, too, as it comes with 15 stealer titles such as "Battleship."
[tags]os x,psp,x5,play station portable,hack[/tags]


text: While raising the head I lost power to the low contrast side of the Ilford 500 head today, changed bulbs to no avail. If power supply is going bad would it affect only one side at a time? Both fuses appear OK. Anyone know where this beast can be repaired? Thanks in advance


text:
Bakery Decoration
It looks like you have an ad blocker on. Please disable your ad blocker and refresh to fully enjoy our games.
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You just opened your a new Deli and Bakery shop. Decorate the place so customers will come and buy your tasty treats!
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Chico >> After several hours with Chico police controlling movement into the Menlo Pointe Apartments, just off The Esplanade at Menlo Way, residents have been allowed back into the area.
For much of the morning and early afternoon traffic was stopped at the apartment complex driveway and people walking through the apartments were asked to stay away.
The incident began shortly after 10:30 a.m. when a man walked into the leasing office wearing a camouflage jacket or shirt. The manager asked the man if he needed help.
He said yes, and brandished a gun.
Chico Police Capt. Fort Porter said the two were about four feet apart. The manager walked slowly around the man, then left the office and called 9-1-1.
He was described as a white man, age 20-30, clean-shaven with brown hair.
For several hours police were in the complex, determining at about 2 p.m. that the suspect was not in the office.
Resident Blaine Messick, age 27, told reporter Almendra Carpizo that he saw police outside his apartment about noon and walked outside to see what was going on. Messick said he was told to leave the apartment area.
When walking out, he saw police near the leasing office with shields and a megaphone.
Police were saying "come out with your hands up or call 9-1-1," Messick said. No one responded while he was in the area.
The leasing office is surrounded by apartments, both upstairs and down. Messick said he saw one police officer knocking on doors.
Zac Mowles said his father lives in the apartment complex and Mowles was on his way to pick up his bike from a friend. Mowles said he saw a Chico Police officer with what looked like an assault rifle.


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Globe control valve
March 8, 2004
Flowserve's Mark 100 globe control valve is available in sizes 6 inches to 16 inches and pressure classes of 150-600. The valves are designed for improved capacity, extra-fine control and easy maintenance. According to Flowserve, the Mark 100's wide, streamlined gallery increases capacity an average of 15 percent over other valves.
Flowserve Corp.
Did you enjoy this article? Click here to subscribe to Food Engineering Magazine.


text:
The City That Breeds » Entertainment » Scenes from the Hagerstown Cracker Barrel Part II — Free Samples
Scenes from the Hagerstown Cracker Barrel Part II — Free Samples
It's 11 a.m. on a Sunday — standing room only at the Hagerstown Cracker Barrel's Old Country Store.
Church has let out, and all those other sinners who spent Saturday night with their lips wrapped around a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 have scraped themselves off their kitchen floors and driven their Ford F150s to the best goddamned American breakfast on both sides of the Rocky Mountains.
Whenever there's a Cracker Barrel, there's always a Waffle House nearby — to catch the people who can't stand to wait any longer. Waffle Houses are like those little fish who swim next to sharks, picking off the free scraps after the sharks attack a whale.
On this Sunday, like most Sundays, Cracker Barrel's rustic rocking chairs are all occupied, which means if you don't want to eat at Waffle House, you're going to have to spending time waiting in the Old Country Store, with its piles of useless yet oddly alluring crap.
The first time you walk past all this random junk you think, "No way am I buying an Official Frog Trouble Jaw Harp," and "I don't even know what a puck of Menthol Camphor is," but they lurk in the back of your mind the whole time you eat breakfast, and when you go back to pay the bill you think, "Well, that Handcrafted Wax Pottery Vessel was marked down to $22.49, and who could pass up a deal like that?"
But right now, there's still a 30-minute wait between these folks and their breakfast, and they're getting restless. You can almost hear the blood sugar levels dropping in the Old Country Store. At this very moment, the Hagerstown Cracker Barrel deploys its secret weapon.
She stands up straight, not one of her white hairs out of place, smiling gently. Then, she speaks, in that soft voice your grandmother used when she set dessert on the table.
"Free samples."
She is holding a tray covered in little paper cups, each one with a piece of … Nestle Crunch Bar.
Nestle fucking Crunch Bar.
Each cup has one cube of a Nestle Crunch Giant Size Candy Bar — the ones you see at Sam's Club and think 'who buys that,' and then when you get to your car you look down and notice one in your cart, and look around to make sure no one is watching as you shove it in your trunk.
It takes a moment to appreciate what Cracker Barrel is doing here. You can imagine the conversation between the manager and the store employee.
"People are starting to get restless out there, sir, and the rocking chairs are full," the employee says.
"Give them free samples," the manager replies.
"Of what, sir? Hot cinnamon jawbreakers? Pecan log?"
"Not today. Mutiny is in the air. Open the secret weapon."
"But sir, the calories … we have a moral obligation –"
"Yes sir."
So there she stood, every Sunday, as people wrapped their hairy, meaty fingers around her delicate paper cups, watching their eyes roll back in their heads as they leaned back and dumped chunks of Crunch Bar down their throats, knowing that if someone accidentally bumped into her, causing the free samples to fly into the air, it would be the same as throwing a handful of $1 bills into the market square of a third world country — pure mayhem, a fight to the death.
"Free samples," she said again, her voice almost a whisper.
Filed under: Entertainment


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Featuring four decks of software control plus a built-in mixer that can be used with or without a computer, N4 is designed for DJs who want powerful capability in a lightweight, portable package. N4 is a complete DJ controller that has everything you need to perform at your highest level – large, touch-sensitive platters, four decks of software control with loop and effects controls, a built-in USB audio interface, and a comprehensive mixer section with EQ and gain controls. N4 comes with both Serato DJ Intro software and a four-deck version of Virtual DJ LE.
Source: hayabusa.bz


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Microsoft has announced a Beta website [1] for its grandiose Mesh Network that promises to provide online access to your desktop and files, and sync this across your PC and mobile devices. We have been promised this before by Microsoft [2] so it's nothing to get very excited about.
I'm more impressed with Google's incremental approach than another grand Microsoft scheme. Since the end of March they have been progressively rolling out offline access to Google Docs word-processing [3] along with seamless on-line synchronizing using Google Gears.
In plain English that means you can either write online or offline using Google Docs and it doesn't matter asthe results will be automatically synchronized when you go online. It's just only works for Docs at the moment but other apps will follow.
I tried it and it essentially provides all I need, and unlike Microsoft's offering, it's here now. Well, almost here. It will only be here for you when you see the "Offline" option appear in the upper right-hand toolbar when you login to Google Apps. Thanks to JW for link [2].[1] https://www.mesh.com/Welcome/Welcome.aspx
[2] http://www.joelonsoftware.com/items/2008/05/01.html
[3] http://googledocs.blogspot.com/2008/03/bringing-cloud-with-you.html...


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You'll want to stay through the closing credits of the new motion-capture animated adventure Mars Needs Moms, a film from the people who gave us The Polar Express. The credits include four minutes of clips of the real-live cast of the film — Seth Green, Joan Cusack and Dan Fogler among them — wearing motion-capture suits, with dots covering their faces so that the sensors can digitally mimic their movements, actions and facial reactions as they act out what's going to be animated.
It's fascinating and also the lightest and funniest part of this film, based on a novel by Bloom County creator Berkeley Breathed.
Cute characters drive this tale, a movie more interested in action beats than in big laughs.
Milo (voiced by 11-year-old Seth Dusky, though "acted" by Green) hates taking out the trash and won't eat his broccoli. And when Mom (Joan Cusack) lays down the law — "No broccoli, no TV" — he revolts.
"My life would be so much better if I didn't have a mom at all," he says.
Milo, who looks to be about 11, learns a big life lesson with that. Words can wound. He makes his mom cry.
Imagine his guilt when, a few hours later, she's abducted by aliens. He scrambles after her and learns an awful secret — Mars needs moms. And not just any moms — good moms. Ones who lay down the law and teach their children respect, discipline, manners and values.
Milo is at a loss about how to rescue Mom until he himself is saved by Gribble, a nerd played by Dan Fogler. Gribble stowed away to Mars just as Milo did and has survived, built robots and filled his own junkyard lair with hi-tech gear.
Milo has mere hours to convince Gribble to help rescue his mother before her brain is cooked, hours to find and meet a Martian graffiti artist (Elisabeth Harnois) in revolt against the regimented matriarchy of Mars.
Director Simon Wells can handle digital chases, shoot-outs and such. But laughs? He doesn't do well with the ones the script sets up.
There's a subtext here, too. Plainly, Breathed, the author, has some mommy issues he was working out — women running a planet are too busy to nurture their own babies.
It all makes for an intricate — if slow and somewhat humor-starved — early Mother's Day present in which a boy learns just how much his mom means to him. Mars needs moms, but Milo needs Mom even more.


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Frank Womack
|This article needs additional citations for verification. (September 2012) (Learn how and when to remove this template message)
|Personal information
|Full name
|Francis Womack
|Date of birth
|16 September 1888
|Place of birth
|Stannington, Sheffield, England
|Date of death
|8 October 1968(aged 80)
|Place of death
|Caistor, England
|5 ft 8 in (1.73 m)[1]
|Playing position
|Full back
|Senior career*
|Worcester City
|Torquay United
|Teams managed
|Worcester City
|Torquay United
|Grimsby Town
|Leicester City
|Notts County
|Oldham Athletic
|Grimsby Town
|* Senior club appearances and goals counted for the domestic league only.
Francis "Frank" Womack (16 September 1888 – 8 October 1968) was an English association football player and manager born in Stannington, Sheffield, Yorkshire. He still holds the league appearances record for Birmingham City playing 491 games[2] and holds the league record for most games (511) by an outfield player without scoring a goal.[3] He died in Caistor, Lincolnshire, at the age of 80.
Playing career[edit]
Womack began his professional football career in July 1908 when he joined Birmingham from Rawmarsh Albion, having previously played for Lapham Street. He made his league debut in September 1908, away to Gainsborough Trinity. He spent nearly his entire playing career at Birmingham, never signing a contract, and was club captain for 16 years from 1912 to 1928.[4]
During his time at the club, they twice finished in 3rd place in the Second Division (1913, 1920) and won the Second Division in 1921 and were still in the First Division when Womack left in May 1928 to join Worcester City as player-manager. In his first season with Worcester, Womack guided them to the Birmingham League title and to the first round of the FA Cup. He returned to League football at the end of the season, joining Torquay United, where he played a further 19 league games and 1 FA Cup appearance.
In July 1930 Womack took over from Albert Hoskins as manager of Torquay United. United finished 11th in Division Three (South) in his first season, but slumped to 19th the following season.
In May 1932, Womack was appointed as manager of Grimsby Town, just after their relegation from the First Division. While manager of Grimsby Town, Womack guided them to their great period of success, with promotion back to the First Division as champions, an all-time highest league placing of 5th in 1935 and a FA Cup semi final in 1936.
In October 1936, Womack moved to Leicester City as manager, then near the bottom of Division Two. He signed Jack Bowers from Derby County, and his goals (33 in 27 games) helped City to the title and promotion. He resigned following their relegation in May 1939. Just before the Second World War was declared, the local Leicester newspapers published articles that claimed that Womack had several thousand pounds available to spend on players. Womack disputed this and referred all enquirers to his board of directors. As a direct result, he resigned and moved to Fleetwood, Lancashire, in April 1940.
He returned to management in July 1942, taking over at Notts County, but left three years later. In February 1945 he took over at Oldham Athletic, but resigned in April 1947 after Oldham had struggled in the first post-war season.
Womack went back to Grimsby for a stint as 'guest' manager January in 1951 for five months whilst manager Charlie Spencer was recovering from an illness. He left in May 1951, after Grimsby's relegation.
As player[edit]
- Second Division Champions: 1921
As manager[edit]
Grimsby Town
- Second Division Champions: 1934
Leicester City
- Second Division Champions: 1937
- ^ "Blues" News. The Official Programme of Birmingham Football Club, Ltd. Birmingham F.C. 30 August 1924. p. 4.
- ^ Birmingham City records at Soccerbase
- ^ League scoring records at allfootballers.com
- ^ Club Officials & Backroom Staff at The Birmingham City FC archive
- 1888 births
- 1968 deaths
- Sportspeople from Sheffield
- English footballers
- Association football fullbacks
- Birmingham City F.C. players
- Worcester City F.C. players
- Torquay United F.C. players
- Worcester City F.C. managers
- English Football League players
- English football managers
- Torquay United F.C. managers
- Grimsby Town F.C. managers
- Leicester City F.C. managers
- Notts County F.C. managers
- Oldham Athletic A.F.C. managers
- English Football League managers
- English Football League representative players


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Where do you begin when your loved one has lung cancer? Wouldn't it be great if we all had an experienced mentor who had walked the journeys we walk?

The following slides share some thoughts and insights from those who have taken the journey as a loved one of someone with lung cancer; tips they longed to pass along.

Yet keep in mind that everyone is different. Just as every person with cancer—even people with the same type and stage of cancer—is different, what works and doesn't work for you as a caregiver differs from what may help someone else in your position. Caring for a loved one with cancer is one of the most honorable roles you may play in life, but the old adages "be true to yourself" and "you have to take care of yourself first" were never closer to the truth. Don't feel guilty when you need to put yourself first and make sure to include your own needs (even if silent) in perspective.

Lung cancer is a marathon, not a sprint. Just as you would pace yourself if you ran a marathon, pace yourself in the journey you are undertaking as a cancer caregiver.

Though there are certainly emergencies, most decisions don't have to be made immediately. When your loved one is first diagnosed it can feel surreal to both of you. And even though there are typical stages people go through in accepting a diagnosis of cancer, every step from denial to anger to acceptance can take place in those first days.If you are feeling paralyzed, like a deer in the headlights, check out these tips on first steps to take after a diagnosis of cancer.

Instead of running yourself dry, consider your loved one's support system as well as your own friends and loved ones. This is a good time to learn to delegate. Take a moment to consider the special talents and gifts of your friends and family. In what ways could each of them help you when challenges arise?

Take time to learn about your loved one's cancer. Studies suggest that people who are their own advocates and educate themselves have better outcomes than those who do not. How?

Ask questions. Accompany your loved one to oncology visits and take notes. Bring a list of questions.

It is possible to find credible medical information online, but it's important to consider the sites. Is the information written or reviewed by a board-certified physician? When was the information last updated? Are sources cited so that you can investigate what you learn in greater depth? Try to stick with well-respected health information sites.

If your loved one has been coping with lung cancer for some time, I don't need to point out the stigma of lung cancer. In contrast to the words of caring and support most people hear when they share their diagnosis, the first words spoken to someone with lung cancer are often: How long did you smoke? This happens regardless of whether or not someone has smoked, and does not consider that we all have habits that may contribute to cancer, whether dietary, a sedentary lifestyle, or too much stress.

The first step is to avoid building on this stigma in the first place. Questions such as "don't you wish you had quit smoking earlier?" have no place in this setting. You can be sure that most people with cancer have already inflicted enough of this second guessing on themselves. Yet beyond watching your own words, you are in an ideal role as an advocate for your loved one to remind them of their worth and play interference.

"Defend" your loved one and take charge when needed. When people ask your loved one about her smoking status it may be a good time to provide some education. "Anyone with lungs can get lung cancer." Perhaps this is the time to let another know that there are more non-smoking women who die from lung cancer each year than who die from breast cancer. Perhaps it is even time to provide education on a broader point: "Nobody deserves cancer. Everyone with lung cancer deserves love, compassion, and the best medical care possible."

As you begin this journey with your loved one, check out some of these ideas on how to cope with insensitive remarks when you have lung cancer, as well as things NOT to say to someone with lung cancer.

At first, this may sound easy—"provide unconditional support"—but it will likely be the hardest thing you have ever done.

Not only is cancer a marathon, but those living with lung cancer are coping with fears and uncertainty, anger and pain. Cancer emotions can run strong, and deep, and change many times even within a single day. There may be days where you would rather catch an international flight anywhere than be there for your loved one.

As noted earlier, providing unconditional support means leaving an evaluation of the causes of lung cancer to the researchers and epidemiologists. Your role is to help your loved one feel empowered and receive the best treatment possible no matter what she may have done in the past to raise the likelihood of developing cancer.

Check out these tips for supporting a loved one with cancer. While some of these are certainly intuitive, there are some things people don't really comprehend until they are diagnosed with cancer themselves. Life changes when someone receives the dreaded "C" diagnosis.

The holidays are often stressful even for people without cancer. Adding cancer to the equation can be the last straw on the camel's back unless you plan a bit ahead of time. On the other hand, with careful forethought, this can be an extra special time to enjoy each other.

Prioritizing and simplifying your usual holiday schedule is a great step in reducing the stress of the season. Limit the number of activities, and make sure to leave flexibility in your plans to allow for the inevitable problems that can arise given a diagnosis of cancer.

Take time to think about what the season means to you. Some cancer caregivers have found healing in making the season a time of forgiveness for past conflicts. You may not be able to follow tradition as you have in the past, but this isn't always bad. Consider ways in which you can create new memories—ones that will carry you through the rough winter months that can follow the holidays.

Check out these tips on coping with the holidays as a cancer patient.

 We know many of you will absolutely cringe when we say, "Take care of yourself." And we can already hear the rebuttal. "Who has time for themselves when a loved one has cancer?" "There are only 24 hours in a day." We know. We've been there, and know that sometimes we have to put our own wants and needs on the back burner.

There are some things you can do to honor yourself that don't take hours of your time. It may seem forced, but take a moment and list a few activities that you would find healing and rejuvenating for you alone. Is it 10 minutes to soak in a tub with candles? When you are feeling overwhelmed, or worse, guilty for taking time for yourself, consider what you would want your loved one to do if the tables were turned.

Check out some of these tips on caring for yourself as you care for someone with cancer for ideas on how to restore your own spirit while caring for another.

Just as your loved one is grieving her diagnosis, you will be facing grief as well. If your loved one has a poor prognosis, those feelings of grief may be readily apparent, but grieving occurs for many other reasons as well.

You may be grieving your loss of time—time that you ordinarily would have spent doing some other activity. You may be grieving for the losses your loved one is experiencing. You may be grieving the time that your children may not have with a parent due to the diagnosis. You may be grieving the loss of financial security that cancer presents.

Whatever your grief, take the time to recognize your feelings. Sometimes people have to work through their own grief before helping a loved one. With cancer there is often also anticipatory grief - the feelings of sadness and loss we feel even before a loss occurs.Check out some of the tips on coping with anticipatory grief for both yourself and your loved one.

Just as your loved one needs support from you, it's important that you receive support from your own network of friends.

Even though you may have the most supportive friends imaginable, there is something special about talking with someone who is facing the same challenges. Are there any caregiver support groups in your community?

Online support groups and communities have a few advantages for caregivers of people with lung cancer. Unlike breast cancer support groups, those specifically designed for family members of people with lung cancer in your community may be hard to come by. Going online gives you access to people who may live thousands of miles away, yet have an understanding of exactly what you are feeling. Another advantage is that you don't need to leave home to join these communities and other members are available 24/7. Some of these include:

LUNGevity's Caregiver Resource Center

 Free to Breathe's Matching Service - which can match you with another lung cancer caregiver

There are many reasons to hang on to hope as your loved one copes with lung cancer.

Treatments ARE improving.

There ARE long term survivors—even of stage 4 lung cancer.

There IS support.

You are NOT alone.

Are you struggling in your efforts to kindle hope in your loved one?

Though everyone faces a different journey, there are similarities along the way. One of our favorite resources on being a caregiver for a loved one with lung cancer wasn't written by a doctor. It wasn't penned by a social worker or the director of a non-profit. Instead, it was published by someone who knows the landscape of caregiving in more depth and with greater intimacy. Cancer Journey: A Caregiver's View From the Passenger Seat by Cynthia Siegfried is the story of her journey as she supports her husband who has lung cancer through the ups and downs and corkscrews of life.

Perhaps you want to write out your own journey. Journaling your cancer caregiver journey can be therapeutic while leaving a legacy for your family.

Though anyone who has cared for a loved one with lung cancer will tell you that the road is difficult and challenging, it is one of the greatest things you can do as a human being to share your love. Maybe you will even be inspired to become an advocate for others facing lung cancer,but first, learn when to say no to take care of yourself. You are worth it!

Sources:

American Cancer Society. Coping With Cancer in Everyday Life. Updated 06/26/14. http://www.cancer.org/treatment/treatmentsandsideeffects/emotionalsideeffects/copingwithcancerineverydaylife/a-message-of-hope-for-spouses-families-friends

National Cancer Institute. For Family and Friends. Updated 08/09/16. https://www.cancer.gov/about-cancer/coping/family-friends


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It truly is popular demand that brings LaFave back to GJ
Texas singer-songwriter extraordinaire Jimmy LaFave is making a highly requested return engagement to the Roper Music Ballroom on Thursday, Aug. 25 at 7:30 p.m.
When I called Jimmy earlier this week, he was at Cedar Creek Recording Studios, "watching the guys paint" as he put it. Jimmy told me "They just finished recording that two-CD tribute to Guy Clark that is coming out in November to celebrate Guy's 70th birthday and they had Rodney Crowell, Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Shawn Colvin, Lyle Lovett, Kevin Welch, Joe Ely, John Hiatt, Patty Griffin, Steve Earle, Robert Earl Keen and many others all down here recording Guy's songs. That CD release will coincide with a big birthday celebration at the performing arts center in Austin."
Since we were on the subject of new albums, I asked LaFave if he could tell me about his new record. "Everybody keeps asking if I have a title. If I did, I would tell them, but right now it doesn't have a title.
"I recorded 15 songs for this album, but they all won't make it on the record. Twelve of the songs are mine, two are Bob Dylan covers and the other one is a song from Jude Johnstone, a wonderful singer-songwriter who has a great new album out called "Quiet Girl." Most all of the songs are recorded. I just have to go back in and do some vocals and a couple of instruments.
"All of the artwork is done and once I get it together, it won't take long to get it out. The CD plants are so starved for business that they will do just about anything to press a new CD, so it won't take long once it is ready."
Then he added, "Lots of folks have been sending me bootlegs and various live recordings and videos from my shows and I will be listening to them in the 10-12 hours of driving time finding some more little gems to release a second volume of 'Trail.' "
The original "Trail" CD was released back in 1999, so I am sure Jimmy has a lot of great songs to choose from for this new version.
Jimmy has been working on an album of Woody Guthrie songs and because 2012 is the centennial of Woody Guthrie's birth, I asked Jimmy about it.
"This is mostly being done by Woody's daughter, Nora Lee, who is the director of Woody's Foundation and Archives, and president of Woody Guthrie Publications. You have to give her credit because she saw the value of the 3,000-plus songs her dad had written, of which he recorded only 70 or so.
"She doles out songs to who she wants to and not all of the artists are folk artists. She gave a song called "I'm Shipping Up to Boston" to the Dropkick Murphys because her son liked the band. It was just a short little song of not more than four or five lyrics written on a little scrap of paper and they made a song out of it and used it to open all of their live shows. Someone from the Boston Red Sox heard the song and they began playing it during the seventh inning stretch of their games in 2008."
Don't miss your chance to see this amazing artist, who brings intense passion an energy to his music, making his shows unforgettable. Tickets are available at Roper Music, Andy's Liquor Mart and Triple Play Records.


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JCarter wrote:Use Earth Class Mail, have the products shipped to Oregon and then forwarded to you.
ivotedale wrote:Definitely feel for you guys who have to pay taxes for certain online outlets- I definitely couldn't see myself purchasing a $1200+ macbook pro off Amazon.com w/ sales tax. The money saved on taxes could certainly pay for memory upgrades or similar! Fortunately Arizona doesn't qualify for that.
Seldom do I shop on Amazon.com anyway, but I'm more of an eBay kind of guy (even more tempting!).


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Brian and Kelly (Leslie) Frankenberg, Lincoln, Neb., announce the birth of a son, Gabriel Owen Frankenberg. Born Oct. 3, 2013, at Bryan East Medical Center, Lincoln, Neb., he weighed 8 pounds, 5 ounces.
Grandparents are Danny and Sharon Leslie, Perry, and Dale and Peggy Frankenberg, Villa Ridge. Great-grandparents are Leonard and Barbara Jones, Robertsville, Bill Leslie, Port Isabel, Texas, and Bob and Frieda Reichardt, Sullivan.