truth: red white & black


Captain America, Isaiah Bradley

“When captain America was presumed dead, and the super soldier formula along with him, the Americas tried to re-create said formula  so they could have a super soldier again. To this end many African Americans were subjected to experimentation.

Of those to survive was Isiah Bradley an outstanding black soldier and father of one. Isiah emerged the only viable and successful subject. He managed to stop the Natzi group who tried to create a German super soldier and was captured and tortured by them for months. When he was finally rescued by his American superiors he was court-martialed and jailed.While he was in jail his genetic son was born to a surrogate mother after 39 other attempts had failed. This son would grow up to become Josiah X. Years later he was pardoned by President Eisenhower and released.

His daughter would have a son who would lead the young avengers as Patriot. When his grandson was critically wounded a blood transfusion from him gave his Grandson all of his abilities.”

1st appearance: Truth: Red, White & Black #1 (2003)

When I was eight
I would walk up to my mother
My short curly hair in a frizzy halo around my head
With my somewhat crooked smile
And ask her if I would be pretty

She would smile
Pat my hair down
Bop me on my nose
And say with a honey sweet voice
Not to worry about it

When I was 13 I hated my body
My thighs too big, boobs not big enough
Mornings would be spent stuffing my bra
Denying myself the right to breakfast
I didn’t dare insinuate that I was skinny enough to deserve it

By 15 I was covered in different peroxides
My teeth held together by metal braces
My face a collage of different flaws
So I painted it like it was a portrait
Just so I could cringe less when I looked in the mirror

When I was 18 I learned that nobody would love me
The way I should love myself
And a weight was lifted off my shoulders
Because somewhere in between the frizzy halo and metal braces
I was taught to hate myself

But this is not just about me
This is about the girls who will go home crying
Because they weren’t deemed pretty enough
And all the people who will sway home tonight in a drunken trance
Because a stranger didn’t think they’re suitably screwable

This about the world we’ve created for ourselves
Haunted by models and mirrors
Our own reflections a prison
Our flaws become metal bars
Our insecurities are our chains

When my daughter walks up to me some years from now
Whatever her hair looks like
No matter her crooked smile
And asks me if she will be pretty
I will smile, look her in the eye, and say no

You will never be just pretty

You will be pretty intelligent, pretty talented
You will be pretty gifted, pretty kind
But no daughter of mine will be confined
By some shallow five letters

—  My friend, my queen, THE Jinan Abu-Farhah


by Jake Chambers

“I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”

-T.S. “Butch” Eliot

“My first thought was, he lied in every word.”

-Robert “Sundance” Browning

The gunslinger is the truth.

Roland is the truth.

The Prisoner is the truth.

The Lady of Shadows is the truth.

The Prisoner and the Lady are married. That is the truth.

The way station is the truth.

The Speaking Demon is the truth.

We went under the mountains and that is the truth.

There were monsters under the mountain. That is the truth.

One of them had an Amoco gas pump between his legs and was pretending it was his penis. That is the truth.

Roland let me die. That is the truth.

I still love him.

That is the truth.

When is a door not a door? When it’s ajar, and that is the truth.

Blaine is the truth.

Blaine is the truth.

What has four wheels and flies? A garbage truck, and that is the truth.

Blaine is the truth.

You have to watch Blaine all the time, Blaine is a pain, and that is the truth.

I’m pretty sure that Blaine is dangerous, and that is the truth.

What is black and white and red all over? A blushing zebra, and that is the truth.

Blaine is the truth.

I want to go back and that is the truth.

I have to go back and that is the truth.

I’ll go crazy if I don’t go back and that is the truth.

I can’t go home again unless I find a stone a rose a door and that is the truth.

Choo-choo, and that is the truth.

Choo-choo. Choo-choo.

Choo-choo. Choo-choo. Choo-choo.

Choo-choo. Choo-choo. Choo-choo. Choo-choo.

I am afraid. That is the truth.


—  Stephen King “The Waste Lands”