The Nigger Factory by Gil Scott Heron

my con-trol. When I heard you needed a bit a my help I immediately stole the white boys’ quickes’ steed an’ hopped nimber-ly into the saddle. I iz gonna pass out copies a yo’ statements to the faculty hopin’ alla while ta pull a few insomnia cure-ahs ovuh to our way a thinkin’.’
    Johnson’s mouth fell completely open.
    ‘You the cooles’,’ Baker said.
    ‘Ultra cool,’ Jonesy chimed. Baker almost collapsed. Whoever heard of Fred Jones saying something without being asked?
    ‘Uh, what ’bout my story?’ Johnson asked, trying to capitalize on the upsurge of good spirits.
    ‘Ha! Baker, did this cat ast you somethin’ or am I gone completely outta my head?’
    ‘Vic, my main man an’ campus Waltuh Cronkite, I’m gonna give you a story to take the salt outta the shaker. After this muthafuckuh thay givin’ me a gig writin’ fo’ the Secret Storm. Ha!’
    Everyone was thinking the same way. ‘To hell with Thomas! To hell with Head Nigger Calhoun! We gonna step out there with a program God hisself cain’ do nuthing with. We bad! We Black! We MJUMBE!’

7
    O’Jay’s
    Earl found Odds and Lawman engrossed in conversation when he joined them at a back booth in O’Jay’s, the most popular off-campus hangout. He slid into the booth casually.
    â€˜Earl!’ Lawman exclaimed. ‘What in hell’s happ’nin’?’
    â€˜A whole lotta bullshit,’ Earl said disgustedly. ‘Lemme get a beer an’ I’ll fill you in . . . where the hell yawl been?’
    â€˜Nowhere. That’s the point,’ Odds grumbled, picking up his glass.
    A waitress came over with a pad and pencil.
    â€˜Black Label,’ Earl said.
    â€˜I’ll take one mo’,’ Lawman told her. She didn’t bother to write the orders down.
    â€˜C’mon, man. Whuss up?’
    â€˜MJUMBE iz up. My gig iz up. The jig iz up.’ Earl replied smiling wryly.
    â€˜Start at the beginnin’,’ Odds said impatiently.
    â€˜That iz the damn beginnin’!’ Earl said raising his voice irritably. ‘The beginnin’, the middle, the . . . Look, uh,’ he paused to light a cigarette, ‘I jus’ hit campus a l’il while ago, right? I don’ know shit.’
    The waitress arrived with two bottles of beer and one glass. Odds put a dollar on the tray. The waitress pulled thirty cents out of her apron pocket and laid it on the table.
    â€˜I got a call ’bout seven,’ Earl continued. ‘It wuz King from MJUMBE. He sed they wuz havin’ some kind a meetin’ an’ they wanned me t’come over to the frat house.’
    â€˜Thass where you were? We jus’ called an’ Zeke sed you wuz gone.’
    â€˜Well, I wuz.’
    â€˜What happened?’
    Earl was making patterns from the circles left on the rough-grained surface of the table by his beer glass.
    â€˜This,’ he said sourly, ‘is what happened.’ He pulled a mimeographed sheet of paper from his pocket and placed it before Odds and Lawman.
    We, the student body of Sutton University, request that:
    (1) The Pride of Virginia Food Services, Inc., be dismissed.
    (2) Gaines Harper, present Financial Aid Officer, be dismissed.
    (3) The head of the Chemistry Dept. be dismissed.
    (4) The head of the Language Dept. be dismissed.
    (5) The men of the present Security Service be forced to leave all weapons (clubs, guns, etc.) inside the guardhouse while making their rounds.
    (6) The supervision of the Student Union Building be placed under the auspices of the Student Government.
    (7) The book store be placed under student control.
    (8) The Music and Art Fund for Visiting Artists be placed under the auspices of the Student Government.
    (9) A Faculty Review Committee be established consisting of students and the heads of the remaining departments (exceptions being Chemistry and Languages) to review the performances of the present faculty. This committee’s findings