Monday, May 25, 2015



As you are well aware America is currently at war with Iraq (on Iraqi soil). Many white men, white women and some "misguided" Negroes have died in this war. Due to the bloodshed and decapitations America is now forced to remember her dead and try to heal her wounded.

All of America, Black & White are "told" to "support the troops" and "remember America's fallen heroes"...So in keeping with The Black Fist--"Black Laws/Constitution"...
General Nikki X would like to take a moment to also remember a "Fallen Hero" who died on AMERICAN SOIL fighting for "Freedom" and "Liberation".

This brave, strong, proud "American" fought until his final breath to insure his "fellow Americans" would somehow enjoy the freedoms The United States Constitution "dictate" all "Americans" are entitled to share in and enjoy.

Remember one of (white America's) most beloved famous President's most repeated saying, "All men are created equal".
Well, that young brave "American" must have lucked up and read Thomas Jefferson's writing and took those words to heart.

Please sit back and enjoy the following "TRIBUTE" to this Brave Heroic "American" and the "sacrifices" he made in his quest for "Freedom in American".

Let's take this "historic journey" together and pay our respects to a man who was and will NEVER be laid to rest at "Arlington National Cemetery" but "Nevertheless" deserves our utmost "GRATITUDE and REMEMBRANCE....Especially on a fine, warm sunny day like "Today"!

Our Dear Brother Nathaniel Turner (family and friends called him "Nat") was born in Southampton, Virginia on October 2, 1800. "Nat", the son of slaves, was the property of Benjamin Turner, a prosperous plantation owner. Nat's mother and grandmother had been brought to America from "Africa" and had a deep hatred for slavery. (Sounds like 2 fine upstanding women to me)

Nat grew up sharing his mother's view of slavery. Taught to read by his master's son (bad move on his part, huh?), Nat developed deep religious beliefs and encouraged by his parents, gradually began to believe that God had chosen him to lead his people out of slavery. (Doesn't sound so far fetched to me, can anyone say "Moses")

In 1831, Bro. Nat was sold to a White man named Joseph Travis. In February of that same year an eclipse of the sun convinced Nat that this was a supernatural sign from God to start an insurrection. However, it wasn't until August 23rd (my God, that's today) that Nat and about 7 other slaves killed "Master" Travis and his family to launch his rebellion. In all about 55 whites were killed.

Bro. Nat Turner had hoped that his "action" would cause a massive slave uprising but only 80 joined his rebellion. Over 3,000 members of the state militia were sent to "deal" with Nat's rebellion, and they were soon defeated. In retaliation, more than a hundred innocent black slaves were killed. Bro. Nat went into hiding but was captured 6 weeks later.
That strong, brave, black (American) man of African origin was viciously executed by hanging on November 11, 1831.
He was 1 month into his 31st year of life.

A white man Thomas R. Gray, met our "American Hero" in prison and recorded his account of the slave rebellion on August 23, 1831.

The late insurrection in Southampton has greatly excited the public mind, and led to a thousand idle, exaggerated and mischievous reports. It is the first instance in our history of an open rebellion of the slaves, and attended with such atrocious circumstances of "cruelty and destruction", as could not fail to leave a deep impression, not only upon the minds of the community where this fearful tragedy was wrought, but throughout every portion of our country, in which this population is to be found. Public curiosity has been on the stretch to understand the origins and progress of this "dreadful" conspiracy, and the "motives" which influences its "diabolical actors". The "insurgent" slaves (that sounds familiar doesn't it?) had all been "destroyed", or apprehended, tried and executed, with the exception of the leader (that's "our hero" he's referring too) without revealing anything at all "satisfactory", as to the motives that governed them (was this White man for real?) or the means by which they expected to accomplish their object.

Everything connected with this sad affair (sad for whom?) was wrapped in mystery, until Nat Turner, the leader of this "ferocious band" whose name has resounded throughout our widely extended empire, was captured. This "great bandit" was taken by a single individual, in a cave near the residence of his late owner, on Sunday, October 13th, without attempting to make the slightest resistance, and on the following day safely lodged in the jail of the County. His captor was Benjamin Phipps, armed with a shot gun well charged. Nat's only weapon was a small sword which he immediately surrendered (they say), and begged that his life be spared (I seriously doubt "He Begged" for anything). Since his confinement, by permission of the jailer, I have had ready access to him, and finding that he was willing to make a full and free "confession" of the origin, progress and consummation of the "insurrection" (there's that word again) movements of the slaves of which he was the "contriver" and "head". (The General)

By his own words, (according to and, as told to Thomas R. Gray) these are the accounted words of Bro. Nat Turner called "The Confessions of Nat Turner" (from his White man's cage/jail--- 1831)

I was 31 years of age on October 2, 1831, and born the property of Benjamin Turner, of this county. In my childhood a circumstance occurred which made an indelible impression on my mind, and laid the ground work of that enthusiasm, which has terminated so fatally to many, both black and white, and for which I am about to atone at the gallows. It is necessary to relate this circumstance-trifling as it may seem, it was the commencement of that belief which has grown with time, and even now, sir, in this "dungeon", helpless and forsaken as I am, I cannot divest myself of.

Being at play with other children, when 3 or 4 years old, I was telling them something, which my mother overhearing, said it happened before I was born- I stuck to my story, however, and related some things which went, in her opinion, to confirm it--others being called on were greatly astonished, knowing that these things had happened, and caused them to say in my hearing, I surely would be a prophet, as the Lord had shown me things that had happened before my birth. And my father and mother strengthened me in this my first impression, saying in my presence, I was intended for some great purpose, which they had always thought from certain marks on my head and breast.

The "Confessions" of our beloved Slain Brother Continues...

My master, who belongs to the church, and other religious persons who visited the house, and whom I often saw at prayers, noticing the singularity of my manners, I suppose, and my uncommon intelligence for a child, remarked I had too much sense to be raised, and if I was, I would never be of any service to anyone a slave. To a mind like mine, restless, inquisitive and observant of everything that was passing, it is easy to suppose that religion was the subject to which I was directed. The manner in which I learned to read and write, not only had great influence on my mind, as I acquired it with most perfect ease, so much so, that I have no recollection whatever of learning the alphabet--but to the astonishment of the family, one day, when a book was sewn to me to keep me from crying, I began spelling the names of different objects- this was a source of wonder to all in the neighborhood, particularly the blacks- and this learning was constantly improved at all opportunities.

When I got large enough to go to work (slave work), while "employed", I was reflecting on many things that would present themselves to my imagination, and whenever an opportunity occurred of looking at a book, when the school children were getting their lessons (slave were not allowed to go to school), I would find many things that the fertility of my own imagination had depicted to me before; all my time, not devoted to "my master's service", was spent either in prayer, or in making experiments in casting different things in mounds made of earth, in attempting to make paper, gunpowder, and many other experiments, that although I could not perfect, yet convinced me of its practicability I had the means.

The "Confession" Continues...Let us return back to Bro. Nat...

We remained at the feast until about 2 hours in the night, when we went to the house and found "Austin"; they all went to the cider press and drank, except myself. On returning to the house, "Hark" went to the door with an ax, for the purpose of of breaking it open, as we knew we were strong enough to murder the family, if they were awaken by the noise; but reflecting that it might create an alarm in the neighborhood (that's rich, huh?) we determined to enter the house secretly, and murder them whilst sleeping. "Hark" got a ladder and set it against the chimney, on which I "ascended" and hoisting a window, entered and came downstairs, unbarred the door, and removed the guns from their places.

It was then observed that I must spill the blood first. (sounds like what America's doing in Iraq right now, doesn't it?) On which, armed with a hatchet, and accompanied by "Will", I entered my master's chamber, it being dark, I could not give the death blow (our brother Nat was a "compassionate" black man, wasn't he?), the hatchet glanced from his head, he sprang from the bed and called his wife, it was his last word, "Will" (known thereafter as "Will the Executioner") laid him dead, with a blow of his ax, and Mrs. Travis shared the same fate, as she lay in bed. The murder of his family, 5 in number, was the work of a moment, not one of then awoke; there was a little infant sleeping in a cradle, that was forgotten, until we had left the house and gone some distance, when Henry and "Will" returned and killed it; we got here. 4 guns that would shoot, and several old muskets, with a pound or 2 of powder.

Bro. Nat's "Heroic Saga" continues...

We remained some time at the barn, where we paraded; I formed them in a line as "soldiers" and after carrying them through all the manoeuvres I was master of, marched them off to Mr. Salathul Francis' about 600 yards distant. Sam and Will went to the door and knocked. Mr. Francis asked who was there, Sam replied, it was him, and he had a letter for him, on which he got up and came to the door, they immediately seized him, and dragged him out a little door, he was dispatched by repeated blows on his head; there was no other white person in the family. We started from there for Mrs. Reese's, maintaining the most perfect silence on our march, where finding the door unlocked (Devilish wicked white slave holders were so "trusting", were they not?), we entered, and murdered Mrs. Reese in her bed, while sleeping; her son awoke, but it was only to sleep the sleep of death (that was heavy wasn't it?), he had only time to say who is it that, and he was "no more".
Henry H. Garnet, speech on slavery in Buffalo, New York on August 16, 1843. 12 years after Nat Turner's vicious "murder" as a result of fighting for HIS "American Freedom" on American soil...
The "PATRIOTIC" Nathaniel Turner was goaded to desperation by "wrong and "injustice". By Despotism, his name has been recorded on the list of infamy, but future generations will number him upon "The Noble and Brave"!

Well, there you have it folks, the story of one of "The Black Fist's Greatest Heroes of all Time"-- General Nat Turner-- he did what he had to do and unlike "YOUR" President George W. Bush, Nat Turner fought a war that was "brought to him" NOT "the other way around"!
He was a Black Slave who fought to free himself as well as his Black Brothers and Sisters, and he did it all in The name of God.
General Nikki X is proud to have been born on the "same day", My Dearly Beloved Brother General Nat Turner "took matters into his own hands" to "free himself & his people from the chains of "American Chattel Slavery"!



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NiggShizzle said...

If only he could of stole a ship and found his way back to mother africa.

NiggShizzle said...

If only our melanin brother could have stolen a ship and found his way back to mother africa.