Poor, painful Black face, intruding into the holy places of the whites. How like a specter you haunt the pale devils! How can they bear your presence, Blackface, great, unappeasable ghost of Western civilization!

Claude McKay from
A Long Way from Home

His plays are composed
like effigies specially
designed to torture his
enemies, and based on
the magical assumption
that if one destroys the
symbol often enough
the reality will also
get impaired. . . .
They belong less to the
conventions of art than they
do to the world of
black magic.

Charles Marowitz,
writing of playwright Ed Bullins

We are Detectives of the metaphysical, about to make an arrest . . .

De Cunjah Man

O Chillen run, de Cunjah man,
Him mouf ez beeg ez fryin' pan,
Him yurs am small, him eyes am raid,
Him hab no toof een him ol' haid,
Him hab him roots, him wu'k him trick,
Him roll him eye, him mek you sick--
De Cunjah man, de Cunjah man,
O chillen run, de Cunjah man!
...

James Edwin Campbell