The Blues Is An Art Of Ambiguity,

You Start Saul, And End Up Paul,' My Grandfather Had Often Said. 'when You're A Youngun, You Saul, But Let Life Whup Your Head A Bit And You Starts To Trying To Be Paul - Though You Still Sauls Around On The Side.

I Denounce Because Though Implicated And Partially Responsible, I Have Been Hurt To The Point Of Abysmal Pain, Hurt To The Point Of Invisibility. And I Defend Because In Spite Of It All, I Find That I Love.

I Am Invisible, Understand, Simply Because People Refuse To See Me. Like The Bodiless Heads You See Sometimes In Circus Sideshows, It Is As Though I Have Been Surrounded By Mirrors Of Hard, Distorting Glass. When They Approach Me They See Only My Surroundings, Themselves Or Figments Of Their Imagination, Indeed, Everything And Anything Except Me.

I'm Not A Separatist. The Imagination Is Integrative. That's How You Make The New -- By Putting Something Else With What You've Got. And I'm Unashamedly An American Integrationist.

If The Word Has The Potency To Revive And Make Us Free, It Has Also The Power To Bind, Imprison And Destroy.