In Percival Everett’s historical novel “James,” the whole world relies on the naming of names

I spent the past couple weeks with James. I knew him in my youth as Jim, Nigger Jim, from Mark Twain’s “Huckleberry Finn.” On the eve of the Civil War, Jim and Huck go on a spree down the Mississippi. In Percival Everett’s novel, “James,” Huck’s name remains the same while Nigger Jim becomes Jim and then, at long last, becomes James. No accident that these are the last lines of the book:

“And who are you?”

“I am James.”

“James what?”

“Just James.”

I guess that I should issue a spoiler alert, that the main character is speaking at the end of the novel. But you don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. You don’t even know if it’s not an imagined scene, something from the always creative mind of Everett. So I’ll leave it at that.

James is a slave on a journey, sometimes with his white pal Huck and sometimes not as he and Huck get separated. We revisit a few of Twain’s characters, the Duke and the Dauphin among them (I’m thinking of you Jason Burge, The One True Dauphin of Mississippi) and others are new creations.

But as the Kindle pages turned, I was less interested in Everett’s Twain trail as I was by what Everett was doing with his own creation. It’s crystal clear early on when James is still in Hannibal talking to other slaves about proper diction. And it’s hilarious. Slaves know how to speak white man’s English (I would say proper English but this is the South) but they also need to master slave’s English. A hilarious scene, one that caused me raucous laughs that awoke the family. Slaves must dumb down their language to make sure white people are not offended by the possibility of a smart Negro. Even language is a slaveholder’s weapon. That scene really nails down what’s at stake in “James.” If you are a slave, everything you do must conform to the white man’s image of you and the owner’s sense of mastery over you. To challenge that leads to death.

As a slave, James sneaks into Judge Thatcher’s study to read. He knows Voltaire's "Candide" and John Locke even appears to James on the trail for verbal sparring matches. This journey is so much fun that you almost forget the stakes. But not quite. As I read, I thought deeply about slavery and its continuing hold on America. We are in the midst of a fascist coup by the same white men who gave us slavery and the KKK and Auschwitz. Massa Ron DeSantis gloats over his concentration camp in the Glades and plans to open more. Trump’s White Nationalist Stephen Miller plots the creation of a white nation, one without those pesky people of color.

But back to the book. It’s clear why it won the National Book Award and Pulitzer Prize. A work of genius. I cringed in spots but I fear that not cringing would make me unrecognizable to me and to James, Just James.

A couple things about Everett. He grew up in South Carolina, educated in Florida and Rhode Island, but went West as soon as he could, as the saying goes. He spends time and writes about the West of Wyoming and New Mexico. I look forward to reading “Walk Me to the Distance” and “God’s Country.” There’s a funny Twain quote that might have come from Everett. “I’ve only been as far West as California.” It sounds like Twain but I can’t find confirmation that he said it. He traveled in what we know as the real West: Wyoming, New Mexico, Nevada, the gold-mining fields of California. But the quote has been used sarcastically by those in the inner West who say “California ain’t West.” Twain knew it. As you see in Everett’s books, he does too.

In the “James” acknowledgements, Everett writes this:

“Finally, a nod to Mark Twain. His humor and his humanity affected me long before I became a writer. Heaven for the climate; hell for my long-awaited lunch with Mark Twain.”

Always read the acknowledgements. You find gold nuggets there.

Post #4,000

Joplin, MO, not so far away from Cheyenne, WY

Joplin, Missouri, is about the same size as Cheyenne, Wyoming.

If a tornado wiped out one-third of Cheyenne and killed 132 residents, we would come together to take care of one another -- no doubt about that. Disasters bring out the best in people. A few days ago, I watched on CBS as neighbors and first responders worked together in the rain to search for an 80-year-old woman. They removed the rubble of the two-story home all the way to the basement. No sign of the elderly woman.

We are usually not asked to go to such lengths to help our neighbors. We will, if needed.

Meanwhile, we can send donations to the Red Cross:

The Red Cross depends on financial donations to help in times of disaster. Those who want to help people affected by disasters like tornadoes, floods and wildfires, as well as countless crises at home and around the world, can make a donation to support American Red Cross Disaster Relief. This gift enables the Red Cross to prepare for and provide shelter, food, emotional support and other assistance in response to disasters. Visit www.redcross.org or call 1-800-RED-CROSS; people can also text the word “REDCROSS” to 90999 to make a $10 donation. Contributions may also be sent to local American Red Cross chapters or to the American Red Cross, P.O. Box 37243, Washington, DC 20013.

Give me good food with a good story

Where Does Your Food Come From?

That was the above-the-banner teaser in this morning Wyoming Tribune-Eagle. The subhead was this:

With hundreds of people sickened by food-borne illness in a spate of recent outbreaks, traceability has become a critical food industry goal.

The story was written by Georgia Gustin of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. It begins on an upbeat note with Askinosie Chocolate Factory, which operates out of an historic building in Springfield, Mo. Owner Shawn Askinosie says that he wants to "profit-share with farmers" and tracks his cocoa beans from growers in Eduador to the end product. Using a code on chocolate packages, consumers can go to the company's web site and trace the origins of their treat. Askinosie offers Single Origin Chocolate Bars. One variety is a 77 percent Davao Dark bar from the Philippines. It comes in a brown wrapper with a photo of chief farmer Peter Cruz, his signature and a stamp of authenticity. A map of the farm's location is enclosed. The web site provides a story on the history of cocoa growing in the Philippines.

This is very cool -- and smart. Some may consider it a gimmick, but Foodies like me approve of this tactic. And the writer in me says that a chocolate bar that comes with its own story has my vote.

Why can't we do the same thing with lettuce? The AP sidebar to this story focused on tainted Romaine lettuce grown in Yuma, Ariz., and shipped to states east of the Mississippi including Florida. Why Florida, breadbasket to the East Coast, requires massive infusions of Arizona lettuce is a mystery.

So is the entire food "industry."

That's the key word -- industry. Ag became an industry and we haven't been safe or even healthy since.

The newspaper story doesn't have an answer. But it does pose some questions.

What if we nurtured and tracked a head of lettuce as Shawn Askinosie does a chocolate bar? Let's say that farmer Peter Cruz grows lettuce on a factory farm in Hot As Hell, Arizona. He nurtures the lettuce stalks as he would his own child. When it comes time to ship a batch to Florida, he labels the hemp bag with a stamp of authenticity which includes his signature and photo. The lettuce goes off to Humid As Hell, Florida, to be sold at $5 per pound.

Oops. Winn Dixie shoppers will probably pass up Peter Cruz's lettuce-with-a-story to cheaper, less wordy, alternatives.

Industry lettuce doesn't have a story. Corporate growers don't have time for creative writing. They want to plant thousands of acres, fertilize the hell out of it, spray it with pesticides, harvest it with illegal aliens from Poor As Hell in Jalisco State, load it in big trucks and ship it off to Florida. This lettuce sells for 99 cents a pound.

It also gives you E. coli.

Quite a bargain.

I am growing my own lettuce this summer in Windy As Hell, Wyoming. It will come with stories because I will insist. I will bore my family with those stories and then will turn on you, my faithful readers. You will not be able to buy my organic, homegrown lettuce because I don't want to buy stamps of authenticity and fancy wrappers. Besides, I don't know if my Romaine will come up this summer. It did last year but one never knows about late frosts and hailstorms.

There are alternatives. Go to your local farmers' market and ask for a story while you buy lettuce and tomatoes and peaches. Sometimes there are good stories and sometimes the sellers look at you funny. Some sellers have no stories because they are hired hands and don't know -- don't want to know -- the real stories. In those cases I say -- move on to the next stall.

You can buy your food from local farms. Many are organic but not all. Join the Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) programs offered by Wolf Moon Farms, Grant Farms and Cresset Community Farm in northern Colorado and Meadow Maid Foods near Yoder, Wyo., which also has grass-fed beef and beef jerky. These are just a few -- new "craft" farmers and ranchers are sprouting all the time.

Each has a story to tell.

Free speech is for people, not for corporations

I'm a big fan of street theatre -- all theatre, really. Earlier this month, activist actors who call themselves "Yes Men" pulled off an amazing bit of theatre when it held a fake press conference. The "characters" wore the guise of suits from the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. They were announcing the Chamber's turnabout on climate change. During the press conference at the National Press Club in D.C., the fake Chamber spokesman was interrupted by a real staffer from the Chamber who contended that something foul was afoot. For several minutes, the reporters in the room were confused. Who was the real spokesman and who was the fake? The fake one was at the podium and he seemed genuine. Other reporters began firing questions about climate change policy to the supposed real staffer and he became the guy who was confused.

The activists put up a very funny video on YouTube. View it above while you still have the chance. The U.S. Chamber of Commerice is suing Yes Men. Says one of the Chamber's many lawyers: this is "a customary response by any organization faced with this type of misconduct by the defendants."

The Chamber contends that Yes Men "are not just merry pranksters tweaking the establishment."

But they are. The group regularly poses as corporate executives to show "how corporate greed negatively influences public policy."

The past eight years have revealed enough examples of that corporate greed. Yes Men have just thrown it into sharp relief.

The St. Louis Post-Dispatch, one of the great newspapers from America's heartland battleground, featured an editorial recently blasting the U.S. Chamber. The ultra-conservative Chamber is an activist org in its own right, bullying its members into towing its conservative anti-climate change, anti-Obama stances. According to the Post-Dispatch, the Chamber is a proponent of tort reform and an opponent of "lawsuit absue."

Concludes the editorial: "The U.S. Chamber's complaints about our litigious society shouldn't be taken seriously."

The editorial was reprinted today in our local paper headline under the headline: "U.S. Chamber tries to stifle free speech."

That's right. Corporations have come to believe that they are the only entities worthy of free speech. The Bush adminsitration took the same line. The Supreme Court has worked overtime to give speech protections to corporation. Our senators and reps have been paid handsomely to go along with this sham.

So we have to leave it up to actors to tell us the truth. The pretend suits are being sued by the real suits and it appears to be a one-sided court battle. The people wrest control of the First Amendment back from the corporations.

Meanwhile, watch the video and have a laugh at the expense of our corporate overlords.

B-ball adds zip to a cold, snowy spring

This time of year, all talk is about basketball. Sweet Sixteen, college women's hoops, NIT -- and that's all on the college side. NBA is in the midst of its season. And high school hoops tournaments are being held (or have been held) during March all across the land.

Chris and I just watched the Kansas-Michigan State men's game. Michigan State won in the final two minutes. I was rooting for Kansas. All that tradition -- Naismith peach baskets, Phog Allen, Larry Brown, Roy Williams, three NCAA men's titles, including last year. Michigan State also has a bit of tradition going for it in the form of Magic Johnson and at least one men's b-ball title. MSU is in, KU is out of the running for a repeat.

Michigan State was down by 13 points at one time tonight. But the team battled back. That's the great thing about b-ball. In a good game, neither team is ever hopelessly behind. There were a few blow-outs the past couple days (poor Arizona) but tonight's game was a battle the entire way.

There are some of you out there (Bob P!) who are happy that the Missouri Tigers made it to the Elite Eight but Kansas did not. All I have to say to you is "wait 'til next year."

And let's hope that the Florida Gators find their Sweet Sixteen stamina next year.

Sen. McCaskill reads riot act to "idiots"

Watch Claire McCaskill (D-MO) take apart the idiot financiers who got us into this mess: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yt90KUwCCoE

This one is for my college chum Bob in Missouri.

100,000 gather for Obama in St. Louis

Meet me in Saint Louie, Louie, meet me under the arch with 99,999 other Obama supporters...