So I'm going to read a few--
There's some poems in this book that
are in the voice of Jack Johnson's shadow.
So I'll read some of those.
OK.
So when I was working on this book,
I had this idea that what I would do
is I needed-- he needed a foil.
So his wife and his mistresses talk about the action,
and talk about him, but nobody calls him into account,
and makes him tell the truth.
And so, that's him getting ready to jam.
But I thought he needed somebody.
And I thought about Richard Pryor's character, Mudbone.
Does anyone know who Mudbone is?
So Richard Pryor had this old man
that he created who would talk about Richard Pryor and all
the things that Richard Pryor did wrong.
So Mudbone would be like, "That boy messed up.
He set himself on fire with a crack pipe."
And I thought, wow, what an exercise,
like a mental exercise to be talking about yourself
in a persona.
So I created the shadow that's like Mudbone for Jack Johnson.
"The Shadow Knows."
From day one, we aspire to be more than the average Negro.
None of that yassah, boss, and watermelon-rind smile for us.
We want quail cooked in butter.
We want gold where the gap tooth should be,
clarity for the Negro character.
We want high style and clothing, gold rings
on our fingers like Greek architecture,
and a gold pocket watch in our vest coat,
more women than coats, white women in our architecture.
We want peculiar and instinctual satisfactions.
We want to be the prize fighter as main attraction--
the heavyweight champion of the world.
When we rise up, the whole Negro race rises up with us.
When we get to the top, it's just us.
No use for Negroes then, not even ourselves.