And Christmas... like all these Christmas's that cometh in... is the time... what you call them... a pig... an force the Christians to eat pigs... so this Christmas I want to talk about Christmas... this is just celebrating your own oppression... you know what I mean... a wicked... you know a very wicked thing... mon... a man force you to eat pork... and then every year celebrated the day... then make you celebrate it an call the day Christmas... BOB MARLEY
I was to take this photo of Rastafarian Bredrin' Nyahbinghi drumming.
The drummer must keep his spine straight to aid
breathing. Steady, deep breathing is very important, as it is in any practice
of meditation. The drums are held between the knees so that the vibration goes
into the body. You are not playing the drum so much as surrendering to the
drum. The drum becomes an inner consciousness cruiser, transporting the drummer
into himself so far that he pops out-as if through an hour glass-into another
realm of sensibility which cannot be described or explained by the finite
nature of rational understanding. The Sufis do the same with dance; Buddhist
monks do it through the mind-numbing repetitions of sutras; Christian monks do
it with chanting. The mind is overwhelmed, filled to over flowing, with the
harmonics of the sound. All thought, fear, panic, hope, dreams and desires are
floated out of the mind like twigs over a dam.
The bass was the downbeat-“down” chasing the oppressor. It is
the power drum, the chastiser. The fundue is the heartbeat, one-two, one-two-as
steady as life. The repeater sings the song.
