Senator Bernie Sanders (I-VT) has called for an incentive program in which the government pays half the cost of installing solar panels on homes (10 Million Solar Roofs Act of 2008). While useful and a dramatic improvement on the status quo, the proposal still requires the homeowner to make a significant investment at a time when money is tight. An alternative proposal would be to have the government provide solar panels on houses and other structures free of charge by renting the roof space in exchange for energy savings. There is no reason the program cannot be extended to other spaces (such as parking lots) public or private.
Taxpayers would provide the funding and reap the benefits of lower energy costs as well as cleaner air. The government would assume the responsibility of maintenance and improvements as technological advances allow. With the price of oil at an all time high and showing no signs of abating, the substantial initial costs would soon be transformed into a perpetual dividend.
There is no reason such a proposal need wait for the federal government. It can readily be implemented at the state or local level funded by selling bonds with a compelling return. The social benefits and economic return on such an investment is compelling indeed. In fact it is the only kind of investment that makes sense in these trying times.
Jazz.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
THE AGE OF RECKONING
We are living in an age where the consequences of past mistakes and excesses are coming to account. We have squandered our resources and attempted to hand the debt to future generations but the bill is due now and we can only pay by suffering foreclosure, homelessness, foregoing medical care, on and on. We have filled our atmosphere with the toxic wastes of the industrial age and now we suffer an endless chain of "natural" catastrophes from drought and fires to hurricanes and tornadoes, on and on. We have globalized the economy without globalizing labor and now we watch the decline of the working class both here and abroad. The decline of the working class is the decline of the consumer which will inevitably drag down the corporate beast responsible for the disaster. We have gone to war for oil and accelerated a rise in the price of gas, the price of food, the price of everything that requires fuel to produce and deliver goods to market. On and on.
We have lived under the delusion that our debts could be passed on but the Age of Reckoning is here. We cannot escape it. We must pay and future generations will pay as well.
We have lived under the delusion that our debts could be passed on but the Age of Reckoning is here. We cannot escape it. We must pay and future generations will pay as well.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Fear and Loathing on McCain's Pierrepoint Express
This campaign is one for the books if that book was soaked in the blood of a child whose first word was gut and last was duck. John McCain is playing catch and release with the truth so bad that the fish are just swimming by the boat, a trail of excrement clogging up the Straight Talk Express exhaust. Every redneck in the country, and some in San Juan it seems are sending in letters to McCain and including racial slurs which McCain greedily answers and some he even includes in press releases.
McCain is searching, through Google and Ancestry.com to find the descendants of Pierrepoint, the famed British hangman because he plans to open an Abu Ghraib in Puerto Rico after he gets elected. He's consulted with Donald Rumsfeld who still holds court in a Denny's in Pennsylvania off the main interstate. The cells will have four foot deep holes at the center to coil the chains which will be iced. Uniforms of the day will be blood mesh and there will be no windows.
McCain is not trying to quell any of the rumors and even trying to add to them as the wire reports come in. It is said he has begun calling reporters at home not unlike Lyndon Johnson used to call editors to try and get everyone to back his message. Just recently he called in Rev. Dobson to commit some of his underage followers to hold signs outside a rally supporting McCain but not in Denver. It's too soon for that.
- Chris Mansel
McCain is searching, through Google and Ancestry.com to find the descendants of Pierrepoint, the famed British hangman because he plans to open an Abu Ghraib in Puerto Rico after he gets elected. He's consulted with Donald Rumsfeld who still holds court in a Denny's in Pennsylvania off the main interstate. The cells will have four foot deep holes at the center to coil the chains which will be iced. Uniforms of the day will be blood mesh and there will be no windows.
McCain is not trying to quell any of the rumors and even trying to add to them as the wire reports come in. It is said he has begun calling reporters at home not unlike Lyndon Johnson used to call editors to try and get everyone to back his message. Just recently he called in Rev. Dobson to commit some of his underage followers to hold signs outside a rally supporting McCain but not in Denver. It's too soon for that.
- Chris Mansel
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Mansel: Fundraising A Centimeter At A Time
Coveted by the undead a John McCain fundraising letter it is said can cure the most unruly sores in the after-life. Just rubbing it onto lesions garnered after a life of cruel acts against animals and mutual fund embezzlement will get you a lesion down from 6 cm to 5 cm almost immediately as reported recently in the Washington Times.
The Reverend Sun Yung Moon has begun a direct mailing program to all of his known aliases to receive as many as he can, stockpiling if you will for the afterlife, so he can anticipate those centimeters now. Worry will get you every time.
- Chris Mansel
The Reverend Sun Yung Moon has begun a direct mailing program to all of his known aliases to receive as many as he can, stockpiling if you will for the afterlife, so he can anticipate those centimeters now. Worry will get you every time.
- Chris Mansel
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Mansel: Divine Comedy on an Iowa Night
"Keep in thy memory what thou hast heard against thyself," the Sage bade me "but now give heed to what is here."
- Dante, The Divine Comedy: Inferno
Iowa
The skies darkened over Iowa as Air Force One departed. Residents turned to the ghostly mounds of garbage that used to be family heirlooms that were now artifacts of a time gone by. Wading through water the television news crews returned to the safety of Motels in the dry areas surrounding the damaged region and to their respective markets and remarked about the drop in the polls of Senator McCain. A man who has finally been allowed to return to the street where he has lived his whole life puts a gun to his head but stops as a large plane flies overhead. It's nightfall in Iowa again.
- Chris Mansel
- Dante, The Divine Comedy: Inferno
Iowa
The skies darkened over Iowa as Air Force One departed. Residents turned to the ghostly mounds of garbage that used to be family heirlooms that were now artifacts of a time gone by. Wading through water the television news crews returned to the safety of Motels in the dry areas surrounding the damaged region and to their respective markets and remarked about the drop in the polls of Senator McCain. A man who has finally been allowed to return to the street where he has lived his whole life puts a gun to his head but stops as a large plane flies overhead. It's nightfall in Iowa again.
- Chris Mansel
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Obama's Choice for VP
Hillary Clinton will not be Barack Obama's choice as a running mate.
By my accounting, a wide open field will come down to Jim Webb of Virginia, Bill Richardson of New Mexico, Barbara Boxer of California or Russ Feingold of Wisconsin.
All would be principled choices as each candidate opposed the Iraq War from its inception. Boxer and Feingold would suggest a traditional contemporary strategy of vying for the usual swing states -- most critically Florida. The selection of Richardson would make Hispanic voters key -- especially in the western states of New Mexico, Nevada, Colorado and McCain's own Arizona. Jim Webb would be the most intriguing choice for it would hold the potential of breaking the Republican stranglehold on the south.
If you support Obama, contribute to Libertarian Bill Barr.
Jazz.
By my accounting, a wide open field will come down to Jim Webb of Virginia, Bill Richardson of New Mexico, Barbara Boxer of California or Russ Feingold of Wisconsin.
All would be principled choices as each candidate opposed the Iraq War from its inception. Boxer and Feingold would suggest a traditional contemporary strategy of vying for the usual swing states -- most critically Florida. The selection of Richardson would make Hispanic voters key -- especially in the western states of New Mexico, Nevada, Colorado and McCain's own Arizona. Jim Webb would be the most intriguing choice for it would hold the potential of breaking the Republican stranglehold on the south.
If you support Obama, contribute to Libertarian Bill Barr.
Jazz.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Mansel: McCain and Fox Security
A close look in a shaving kit of John McCain's these days just might surprise you. Someone on his staff was trying to sell some grainy snapshots of a bag that could be described as a shaving kit in a press club dinner in Little Rock, Arkansas recently but I wasn't buying.
I asked this individual loudly, "What the hell man, hemlock! We all know he drank the blood and not the kool aid, what does he need hemlock for? To chew on like cocoa leaves after a meal?" He shuffled around and turned his back to me and approached the ghost of Sam Donaldson. A Fox news analyst who overheard my statement started kicking me in the shins but I slapped him on the cheek and he collapsed crying, wailing into his cell phone to Fox security. Which after a half hour turned out to be someone who looked alot like William Bennett in a local University sweatshirt who actually, no lie, asked me where the culprit was.
- Chris Mansel
(christophermansel@hotmail.com)
I asked this individual loudly, "What the hell man, hemlock! We all know he drank the blood and not the kool aid, what does he need hemlock for? To chew on like cocoa leaves after a meal?" He shuffled around and turned his back to me and approached the ghost of Sam Donaldson. A Fox news analyst who overheard my statement started kicking me in the shins but I slapped him on the cheek and he collapsed crying, wailing into his cell phone to Fox security. Which after a half hour turned out to be someone who looked alot like William Bennett in a local University sweatshirt who actually, no lie, asked me where the culprit was.
- Chris Mansel
(christophermansel@hotmail.com)
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Mansel: Stoned in Colorado
Stoned in Colorado part 1
Today while rummaging through a few press releases from the FBI I ran into Jann Wenner cooing next to an FBI agent about a trip to the White House should Obama win. Now why he would choose a story like this to do such a thing is anybody's guess. He did come out several years ago and the agents do work out but this is not a story about that, hell, there was enough incest in the camp.
Stoned in Colorado part 2
Sentenced in Utah, Warren Jeffs: that must have sent shockwaves through the straight press. You must get a good hotel room there if you know the Demi's or the Bruce's like Jann Wenner. Yes I guess starting US Weekly was a good idea. You can imagine that Rolling Stone might even do a cover and get over their pop image and get back to the days of the serious journalism if they want an invite to the White House. Lord knows Jann has been crawling up the pants leg of several…
I made a visit to Kinko's yesterday to have some random photos enlarged to see if Jann's lips were in fact infected and found an exchange of money taking place. The local magistrate was ordering a spy camera to place in the lapel of his tie so maybe there will be a sting operation or a sex tape. Imagine that, sex tape rocks Utah!
Chris Mansel
(Editor Note: Jann S. Wenner (born January 7, 1946, in New York City) is the co-founder and publisher of the pop music biweekly Rolling Stone, as well as the owner of Men's Journal and Us Weekly magazines.)
Today while rummaging through a few press releases from the FBI I ran into Jann Wenner cooing next to an FBI agent about a trip to the White House should Obama win. Now why he would choose a story like this to do such a thing is anybody's guess. He did come out several years ago and the agents do work out but this is not a story about that, hell, there was enough incest in the camp.
Stoned in Colorado part 2
Sentenced in Utah, Warren Jeffs: that must have sent shockwaves through the straight press. You must get a good hotel room there if you know the Demi's or the Bruce's like Jann Wenner. Yes I guess starting US Weekly was a good idea. You can imagine that Rolling Stone might even do a cover and get over their pop image and get back to the days of the serious journalism if they want an invite to the White House. Lord knows Jann has been crawling up the pants leg of several…
I made a visit to Kinko's yesterday to have some random photos enlarged to see if Jann's lips were in fact infected and found an exchange of money taking place. The local magistrate was ordering a spy camera to place in the lapel of his tie so maybe there will be a sting operation or a sex tape. Imagine that, sex tape rocks Utah!
Chris Mansel
(Editor Note: Jann S. Wenner (born January 7, 1946, in New York City) is the co-founder and publisher of the pop music biweekly Rolling Stone, as well as the owner of Men's Journal and Us Weekly magazines.)
Monday, May 05, 2008
Obama on Trade: In His Own Words
Indiana May 3, 2008:
I happen to believe in free trade. But we do the cause of trade no favors when we pass agreements that are filled with perks for every special interest under the sun and absolutely no protections for American workers. There’s absolutely no reason we should be giving tax breaks to corporations who ship jobs overseas. When I’m President, I will eliminate those tax breaks and give them to companies who create good jobs right here in America. We can also create jobs if we finally get serious about rebuilding our crumbling and decaying national infrastructure.
Ohio Debate 2/26/08:
As President of the United States I intend to make certain that every trade agreement that we sign has the labor standards, environmental standards and the safety standards that are going to protect not just workers but also consumers.
[Note: Many of us must decide who we can trust on the issues that matter most. One of those issues is trade. As citizens it is our responsibility to hold candidates accountable for their promises.]
I happen to believe in free trade. But we do the cause of trade no favors when we pass agreements that are filled with perks for every special interest under the sun and absolutely no protections for American workers. There’s absolutely no reason we should be giving tax breaks to corporations who ship jobs overseas. When I’m President, I will eliminate those tax breaks and give them to companies who create good jobs right here in America. We can also create jobs if we finally get serious about rebuilding our crumbling and decaying national infrastructure.
Ohio Debate 2/26/08:
As President of the United States I intend to make certain that every trade agreement that we sign has the labor standards, environmental standards and the safety standards that are going to protect not just workers but also consumers.
[Note: Many of us must decide who we can trust on the issues that matter most. One of those issues is trade. As citizens it is our responsibility to hold candidates accountable for their promises.]
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Colorado: Midnight Message from the Mind of Mansel
Colorado
Jack this is the one. We have got to get out to Colorado. Planned mutilations are the words circulating through the press core. Clitoridectomies and the tattooing of infants and that's just the F.B.I. I heard from that stringer from the Milwaukee Journal, you remember the guy who is always pulling on his fingers? The guy who flipped out on a Delta flight and started screaming about Santorum eating chili beans on Air Force One while being strawed to a pulpit in Wisconsin by a Iowa super delegate? Yea, him. He said he personally witnessed three F.B.I. crime scene photographers personally trample one another while trying to get to the scene then exposing themselves while urinating and under cutting the press core to Larry Flynt of all people. It stinks Jack.
As you well know the only reason the F.B.I. doesn't take curtain calls is because you don't want to see what they are doing behind the curtain. But anyway, the Washington Post of all trade rags is willing to pay us all expenses to get down there and get the story -- not for their archives but for the front page. They've lost in the campaign but haven't we all. There's a rumor floating around here in Alabama that the whole thing was planned as a Jim Jones like retreat for the Washington Times like fun crowd but I rather doubt it. I mean after all Bangkok hasn't lost its appeal to the Congressional junket to these sick bastards yet.
- Chris Mansel
Colorado Under The Knife's Head
They know nothing of Hoodoo in Colorado and this is their downfall. Just like in Idaho but that's another lysergic tale of of fistfulls of valium and phone calls to Missouri on stolen cards, Verizon fraud and a recreation vehicle that may still be burning outside a McDonalds just out off the interstate rest area.
Imagine Jack, a sacred egg and compressed hand and sexually predatory priests joining forces with the FBI brewing plastic oils and selling them at Cracker Barrels across america next to the VHS tapes of Hee Haw and the blue glass pitchers. A conjuring crossroads has venerated into the Blackhawk helicopter region of the U.S. From now on its enonymus americanus (burning bush) and that corpse from Wisconsin and heads for burials below the fold. Not since the Crescent City was galvinised and the ehads hung from street lamps, the informants carved in the work camps have the police chewed the left arm of libation in such a manner. I tell you Jack incest in the name of religion takes on a whole new name in begot's begot.
Chris Mansel
Jack this is the one. We have got to get out to Colorado. Planned mutilations are the words circulating through the press core. Clitoridectomies and the tattooing of infants and that's just the F.B.I. I heard from that stringer from the Milwaukee Journal, you remember the guy who is always pulling on his fingers? The guy who flipped out on a Delta flight and started screaming about Santorum eating chili beans on Air Force One while being strawed to a pulpit in Wisconsin by a Iowa super delegate? Yea, him. He said he personally witnessed three F.B.I. crime scene photographers personally trample one another while trying to get to the scene then exposing themselves while urinating and under cutting the press core to Larry Flynt of all people. It stinks Jack.
As you well know the only reason the F.B.I. doesn't take curtain calls is because you don't want to see what they are doing behind the curtain. But anyway, the Washington Post of all trade rags is willing to pay us all expenses to get down there and get the story -- not for their archives but for the front page. They've lost in the campaign but haven't we all. There's a rumor floating around here in Alabama that the whole thing was planned as a Jim Jones like retreat for the Washington Times like fun crowd but I rather doubt it. I mean after all Bangkok hasn't lost its appeal to the Congressional junket to these sick bastards yet.
- Chris Mansel
Colorado Under The Knife's Head
They know nothing of Hoodoo in Colorado and this is their downfall. Just like in Idaho but that's another lysergic tale of of fistfulls of valium and phone calls to Missouri on stolen cards, Verizon fraud and a recreation vehicle that may still be burning outside a McDonalds just out off the interstate rest area.
Imagine Jack, a sacred egg and compressed hand and sexually predatory priests joining forces with the FBI brewing plastic oils and selling them at Cracker Barrels across america next to the VHS tapes of Hee Haw and the blue glass pitchers. A conjuring crossroads has venerated into the Blackhawk helicopter region of the U.S. From now on its enonymus americanus (burning bush) and that corpse from Wisconsin and heads for burials below the fold. Not since the Crescent City was galvinised and the ehads hung from street lamps, the informants carved in the work camps have the police chewed the left arm of libation in such a manner. I tell you Jack incest in the name of religion takes on a whole new name in begot's begot.
Chris Mansel
Monday, April 21, 2008
Random Jack: Is it Just Me?
Is it just me or was the spin around the last debate between Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton a decisive loss for George Stephanopoulos and Charles Gibson – the operative and the statue?
Is it just me or when Hillary kept looking at the rafters, did you think she was looking for snipers?
We have heard a lot about the Reverend Wright and the alleged elitism of Obama (Hillary Rodham Clinton playing the elitism card!) but very little about Hillary’s gaffes. The sniper fire story was flat out theater of the absurd but if you were in Ireland when Hillary claimed a substantive role in bringing the peace, you would know that gaffe was far more egregious.
It was not an associate who made these outrageous claims. It was Hillary. If Obama had made them, the race would be over.
Is it just me or does Bill Clinton’s southern drawl (is Arkansas really a southern state?) sound more and more like a used car salesman?
I lived in Nashville for five years. They don’t drawl like Bill Clinton.
I am disappointed in both Democrats for waffling on Fair Trade but Hillary’s waffling on the Iraq-Iran war is downright scary.
Is it just me or would Hillary Clinton have chosen John McCain as her running mate?
Jazz.
Is it just me or when Hillary kept looking at the rafters, did you think she was looking for snipers?
We have heard a lot about the Reverend Wright and the alleged elitism of Obama (Hillary Rodham Clinton playing the elitism card!) but very little about Hillary’s gaffes. The sniper fire story was flat out theater of the absurd but if you were in Ireland when Hillary claimed a substantive role in bringing the peace, you would know that gaffe was far more egregious.
It was not an associate who made these outrageous claims. It was Hillary. If Obama had made them, the race would be over.
Is it just me or does Bill Clinton’s southern drawl (is Arkansas really a southern state?) sound more and more like a used car salesman?
I lived in Nashville for five years. They don’t drawl like Bill Clinton.
I am disappointed in both Democrats for waffling on Fair Trade but Hillary’s waffling on the Iraq-Iran war is downright scary.
Is it just me or would Hillary Clinton have chosen John McCain as her running mate?
Jazz.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Mind of Mansel: American Prosthesis
American Prosthesis
By Chris Mansel
Part 1
Hospital tile and a sense of responsibility, that's what hit me when I first walked into a Veteran's hospital. I had been in triage situations in combat and hospital ships, Army hospitals in Germany, but this was different. This is the place where politicians come to be photographed and soldiers to be ignored. Any time day or night you can walk down the hallways and see blood trickling onto the floor or hear a voice crying out for help. After a while you start to wonder if all of the missing limbs aren't gathered somewhere in a room in the hospital, perhaps on another floor waiting to be reissued to another body.
It's not like the recruiting letters say, it's not like the news footage will show you. There are some who do want to return to battle but only to return to their buddies who they have fought beside for what seemed like an eternity, and there are some who want to go back and kill something, anyone. Their minds are twisted from fatigue and now their bodies deformed by gunfire or an explosion sit and drool staring at the television screen. They are never photographed with a visiting dignitary, that traffic is led away from the more troublesome rooms.
On my first visit there I saw a young Army private fall out of his room into the hallway screaming as his prosthetic limb gave way. He hit the floor hard and he swung his crutch at anyone who tried to help him up. He was crying uncontrollably. He started to shake and couldn’t stop his anger until another patient, a young black man with the lower half of his arm missing got down on the floor and took hold of him and held him as best he could until he calmed down. For a few minutes they were both cussing and yelling. The sounds they made went through the walls and out into the open, through the pressure built in the interstate by the hospital and into the neighborhoods they grew up in that would never except them back in the shape their mangled bodies were in now.
Napoleon Bonaparte said, "Go Sir, and don't forget that the world was made in six days. You can ask me for anything you like, except time." Strange words from a ruthless dictator but most of the patients in Veteran's Hospitals are here suffering from the words of ruthless dictators in one way or another. One day while touring the hospital and interviewing soldiers I came upon a young man who had lost his right arm and both legs. His demeanor was about what you'd expect. He greeted me with, "What in the hell are you and what in the hell do you want?"
I told him how sorry I was that he was in the condition he was in and I only wanted to ask him some questions. He snapped back, "Any goddamn answers you could want got blown off with my legs, man!" I backed out of the room quietly and started back down the hallway and heard him shouting back at me, "Hey, you giving up that easy, you just ain’t got it man, just ain't got it!" I stuck my head back in his doorway and he threw a glass of water at me just missing my head.
"Incoming!" He laughed loudly.
I said, "So I guess you want to talk, huh?"
His eyes cut through me as I entered the room; the rage in his voice was troubling. But it could be understood. He looked at my clothes and back up to my eyes and said, “Ever been there?”
I answered back, “Yea, four weeks ago as a matter of fact.”
“Four weeks ago…” He let the words fill the room before he spoke again. Embedded?
“No, we were doing freelance work.”
He lowered his brow, “We? You had someone else with you? Couldn’t handle it on you own?”
“Not exactly, my partner was there with me. He’s in town right now just not with me right now.”
“What he didn’t want to come in here and look at us?”
“What do you think?” I asked him this with a look to let him know the answer. We seemed to have wandered off the subject but I figured I would just let him talk. He was quiet for a few minutes and when he finally spoke again it wasn’t about my partner.
“You get hit, or Blackwater tuck you in at night like a good little mama’s bitch?”
I told him the story of Jack Random and myself and the family we helped to escape the private security forces, about the major and the redneck Army guy. He didn’t seem surprised.
He smiled and smiled a sad smile, “You think that was anything special?”
He reached down and lifted his blanket and scratched at his hip so nonchalantly that I don’t think he even realized he was doing it. The scar he revealed was hideous. I could tell he hadn’t been too long in recovery. I had seen wounds in his state before and I could tell that he had still to see several stages of draining of the wound which meant a few more times in surgery which meant more mental strain on his already fragile ego.
“Questions, like what questions? How I got my legs blown off, my arm, what? Tell me?” He asked impatiently.
I replied that I was curious about his experiences with his fellow soldiers and Iraqi civilians. I explained that I didn’t write for any major publication and I didn’t have an agenda.
He faced away from me and all the color went away from his face and said, “Well, I don’t know what to tell you man, I’m dead, just dead.” Tears began streaming down his face in a continuous flow to a point where they would not stop. He took a gun that I didn’t see and put it in his mouth and looked around the room and I thought he was going to pull the trigger. I jumped up from my chair and he fell out of the bed and I screamed: I just couldn’t help it. His face twisted with rage. I jumped back against the wall as several orderlies came to the door quickly and he took the gun out of his mouth and yelled for them to shut the fucking door.
His eyes were directly at me now and he put the gun back in his mouth and I must have gone pale because the orderlies at the small glass window in the door disappeared for a moment and came back with an older man who I guessed was a doctor I hadn’t seen before. He held up a piece of paper that had written on it a short message, “Do you have any medical conditions?”
For a moment I forgot about my safety and concerned myself with that short note. Here across from me sat a young man who had lost both his legs and one of his arms in the service of his country who now had a gun in his mouth and all they were worried about were getting sued by a journalist.
Saliva began to pour out of his mouth and the tears stopped. I felt so sorry for him but I was afraid to say anything. I had been in situations similar to this before and I had learned from experience to allow the individual to calm themselves down in their own time.
Outside the door I could hear the rustling and panic in the hallway. I could sense the sirens, the news vans, and every cliché you’ve ever seen. This was after all a Veteran’s Hospital in Washington D. C., the nation’s capital. The home of whoredom and the constant leaking ship of news that forever set sail on the putrid waters of suffering that wouldn’t for a second pass an opportunity to cover a story like this. I wondered to myself if the young man had thought past putting the gun in his mouth, if he had organized in his mind what he wanted to say or if he was so traumatized he could even see past the door of the room in his mind or with his eyes.
For a moment I looked over at him and he took the gun out of his mouth. He started to say something and raised the gun back up to his lips and squeezed the trigger a little, my eyes were so focused on his finger I could hardly breathe. But then he took the gun away from his mouth and rested it against the side of his head and said one word, “Gunship.”
There was a loud banging on the door and a voice from the other side said, “Marine you have a hostage in there, you’re a hostile force! Relinquish that weapon!” The Marine screamed out, “Perkins get the fuck away from here before I shoot you instead, asshole.”
As I watched this terrified young man, and he was young, barely over the age of twenty, I thought that grace be beguiled then it is a dishonor to the living and to the dead. The room quieted down again, almost instantly. There was an eerie silence and in the hallway as well. I wondered what kind of circus was going on outside this small room but mainly I was focused on the young man across from me, I wasn’t as much worried about my life as I was this young man getting the help he needed, surely a healthy young man wouldn’t be holding a gun to his head or in his mouth.
He spoke sooner than I thought he would, and as he began to speak there were knocks at the door which he ignored. I honestly don’t know if he heard them or not.
“If you line up three marine snipers and tell them to aim at the kneecaps of three Iraqi’s standing in the middle of twelve other Iraqi’s by the fourth shot you can be sure that only one weapon if that will be aimed at the spot where shots are coming from. There’s more danger there defending these fuckers from themselves than there is checking out for your buddy beside you.”
He looked at the floor and followed an imaginary spot across the wall up to the door to the small glass window and put the gun back in his mouth. He did this slowly and I knew then he wasn’t serious about shooting himself, I had seen this kind of hysteria before in a standoff with a police officer in Georgia. Maybe he would feel more comfortable having someone to speak through, especially in this situation. After all this was Washington and they didn’t take to having their Military Industrial Establishment being bad mouthed in print. I could vouch for that personally.
One thing that started to occur to me was the fact that this had to be exploding across the screen of CNN by now taking the attention away from the Presidential campaign and Jack had to be somewhere outside trying to get in. I had no idea if my name had been released or if he knew I was involved but he did know I was coming here today. It wasn’t too long ago we had escaped a shootout in Iraq but this was different, Jack would be running towards the weapon in question.
By Chris Mansel
Part 1
Hospital tile and a sense of responsibility, that's what hit me when I first walked into a Veteran's hospital. I had been in triage situations in combat and hospital ships, Army hospitals in Germany, but this was different. This is the place where politicians come to be photographed and soldiers to be ignored. Any time day or night you can walk down the hallways and see blood trickling onto the floor or hear a voice crying out for help. After a while you start to wonder if all of the missing limbs aren't gathered somewhere in a room in the hospital, perhaps on another floor waiting to be reissued to another body.
It's not like the recruiting letters say, it's not like the news footage will show you. There are some who do want to return to battle but only to return to their buddies who they have fought beside for what seemed like an eternity, and there are some who want to go back and kill something, anyone. Their minds are twisted from fatigue and now their bodies deformed by gunfire or an explosion sit and drool staring at the television screen. They are never photographed with a visiting dignitary, that traffic is led away from the more troublesome rooms.
On my first visit there I saw a young Army private fall out of his room into the hallway screaming as his prosthetic limb gave way. He hit the floor hard and he swung his crutch at anyone who tried to help him up. He was crying uncontrollably. He started to shake and couldn’t stop his anger until another patient, a young black man with the lower half of his arm missing got down on the floor and took hold of him and held him as best he could until he calmed down. For a few minutes they were both cussing and yelling. The sounds they made went through the walls and out into the open, through the pressure built in the interstate by the hospital and into the neighborhoods they grew up in that would never except them back in the shape their mangled bodies were in now.
Napoleon Bonaparte said, "Go Sir, and don't forget that the world was made in six days. You can ask me for anything you like, except time." Strange words from a ruthless dictator but most of the patients in Veteran's Hospitals are here suffering from the words of ruthless dictators in one way or another. One day while touring the hospital and interviewing soldiers I came upon a young man who had lost his right arm and both legs. His demeanor was about what you'd expect. He greeted me with, "What in the hell are you and what in the hell do you want?"
I told him how sorry I was that he was in the condition he was in and I only wanted to ask him some questions. He snapped back, "Any goddamn answers you could want got blown off with my legs, man!" I backed out of the room quietly and started back down the hallway and heard him shouting back at me, "Hey, you giving up that easy, you just ain’t got it man, just ain't got it!" I stuck my head back in his doorway and he threw a glass of water at me just missing my head.
"Incoming!" He laughed loudly.
I said, "So I guess you want to talk, huh?"
His eyes cut through me as I entered the room; the rage in his voice was troubling. But it could be understood. He looked at my clothes and back up to my eyes and said, “Ever been there?”
I answered back, “Yea, four weeks ago as a matter of fact.”
“Four weeks ago…” He let the words fill the room before he spoke again. Embedded?
“No, we were doing freelance work.”
He lowered his brow, “We? You had someone else with you? Couldn’t handle it on you own?”
“Not exactly, my partner was there with me. He’s in town right now just not with me right now.”
“What he didn’t want to come in here and look at us?”
“What do you think?” I asked him this with a look to let him know the answer. We seemed to have wandered off the subject but I figured I would just let him talk. He was quiet for a few minutes and when he finally spoke again it wasn’t about my partner.
“You get hit, or Blackwater tuck you in at night like a good little mama’s bitch?”
I told him the story of Jack Random and myself and the family we helped to escape the private security forces, about the major and the redneck Army guy. He didn’t seem surprised.
He smiled and smiled a sad smile, “You think that was anything special?”
He reached down and lifted his blanket and scratched at his hip so nonchalantly that I don’t think he even realized he was doing it. The scar he revealed was hideous. I could tell he hadn’t been too long in recovery. I had seen wounds in his state before and I could tell that he had still to see several stages of draining of the wound which meant a few more times in surgery which meant more mental strain on his already fragile ego.
“Questions, like what questions? How I got my legs blown off, my arm, what? Tell me?” He asked impatiently.
I replied that I was curious about his experiences with his fellow soldiers and Iraqi civilians. I explained that I didn’t write for any major publication and I didn’t have an agenda.
He faced away from me and all the color went away from his face and said, “Well, I don’t know what to tell you man, I’m dead, just dead.” Tears began streaming down his face in a continuous flow to a point where they would not stop. He took a gun that I didn’t see and put it in his mouth and looked around the room and I thought he was going to pull the trigger. I jumped up from my chair and he fell out of the bed and I screamed: I just couldn’t help it. His face twisted with rage. I jumped back against the wall as several orderlies came to the door quickly and he took the gun out of his mouth and yelled for them to shut the fucking door.
His eyes were directly at me now and he put the gun back in his mouth and I must have gone pale because the orderlies at the small glass window in the door disappeared for a moment and came back with an older man who I guessed was a doctor I hadn’t seen before. He held up a piece of paper that had written on it a short message, “Do you have any medical conditions?”
For a moment I forgot about my safety and concerned myself with that short note. Here across from me sat a young man who had lost both his legs and one of his arms in the service of his country who now had a gun in his mouth and all they were worried about were getting sued by a journalist.
Saliva began to pour out of his mouth and the tears stopped. I felt so sorry for him but I was afraid to say anything. I had been in situations similar to this before and I had learned from experience to allow the individual to calm themselves down in their own time.
Outside the door I could hear the rustling and panic in the hallway. I could sense the sirens, the news vans, and every cliché you’ve ever seen. This was after all a Veteran’s Hospital in Washington D. C., the nation’s capital. The home of whoredom and the constant leaking ship of news that forever set sail on the putrid waters of suffering that wouldn’t for a second pass an opportunity to cover a story like this. I wondered to myself if the young man had thought past putting the gun in his mouth, if he had organized in his mind what he wanted to say or if he was so traumatized he could even see past the door of the room in his mind or with his eyes.
For a moment I looked over at him and he took the gun out of his mouth. He started to say something and raised the gun back up to his lips and squeezed the trigger a little, my eyes were so focused on his finger I could hardly breathe. But then he took the gun away from his mouth and rested it against the side of his head and said one word, “Gunship.”
There was a loud banging on the door and a voice from the other side said, “Marine you have a hostage in there, you’re a hostile force! Relinquish that weapon!” The Marine screamed out, “Perkins get the fuck away from here before I shoot you instead, asshole.”
As I watched this terrified young man, and he was young, barely over the age of twenty, I thought that grace be beguiled then it is a dishonor to the living and to the dead. The room quieted down again, almost instantly. There was an eerie silence and in the hallway as well. I wondered what kind of circus was going on outside this small room but mainly I was focused on the young man across from me, I wasn’t as much worried about my life as I was this young man getting the help he needed, surely a healthy young man wouldn’t be holding a gun to his head or in his mouth.
He spoke sooner than I thought he would, and as he began to speak there were knocks at the door which he ignored. I honestly don’t know if he heard them or not.
“If you line up three marine snipers and tell them to aim at the kneecaps of three Iraqi’s standing in the middle of twelve other Iraqi’s by the fourth shot you can be sure that only one weapon if that will be aimed at the spot where shots are coming from. There’s more danger there defending these fuckers from themselves than there is checking out for your buddy beside you.”
He looked at the floor and followed an imaginary spot across the wall up to the door to the small glass window and put the gun back in his mouth. He did this slowly and I knew then he wasn’t serious about shooting himself, I had seen this kind of hysteria before in a standoff with a police officer in Georgia. Maybe he would feel more comfortable having someone to speak through, especially in this situation. After all this was Washington and they didn’t take to having their Military Industrial Establishment being bad mouthed in print. I could vouch for that personally.
One thing that started to occur to me was the fact that this had to be exploding across the screen of CNN by now taking the attention away from the Presidential campaign and Jack had to be somewhere outside trying to get in. I had no idea if my name had been released or if he knew I was involved but he did know I was coming here today. It wasn’t too long ago we had escaped a shootout in Iraq but this was different, Jack would be running towards the weapon in question.
Friday, March 07, 2008
My Man in Canada: Chris Cook
O! Canada '08: Reviewing the Unrecognizable Nation
Written by Chris Cook
Friday, 07 March 2008
The Century has not so far been kind to those Canadians pining reminiscent for the days the country was a liberal democracy; relatively responsible actors on the world stage, the brokers of peace, guarantors of civility and fair governance in a dangerous, chaotic world.
To be fair to the successors of Brian Mulroney, the prime minister who hitched the nation's wagon to America's seemingly forever rising star through the Free Trade Agreement (FTA), destiny dealt them a crummy hand, but both the Jean Chretien and Paul Martin administrations went beyond the investment oriented FTA (later to morph, with the inclusion of Mexico, into the tripartite NAFTA agreement) "committing" Canada to both America's foreign policy objectives, and the military methods it employs to achieve them.
While more extreme than his predecessors, Stephen Harper's administration has merely accelerated the process begun by Mulroney, and furthered by the Liberal party, a process that has most dramatically manifested in the deaths of at least seventy-eight Canadian soldiers in Afghanistan, and the killing and maiming and imprisoning of uncounted numbers of Afghanis.
Harper recently proposed legislation in Parliament to extend the country's entanglement in Afghanistan in the form of a promises made to NATO to continue past the already extended exit schedule of February 2009 through to the end of 2011. He did this with the complicity of the federal Liberals, whose support his minority government had to have.
The fact the majority of Canadians opposed Canada's involvement in what was ostensibly America's revenge for the 9/11 attacks, (based on the untried assumption Osama bin Laden planned and orchestrated the storied operation from his cave hideout in Afghanistan) before the launch of 'Operation Enduring Freedom' carried no freight with Jean Chretien's administration, just as majority opposition to the country's continued involvement means nothing to the current Harper regime. Canadians will continue to follow U.S. diktats in Afghanistan, and both Canadians and Afghanis will continue to pay the price for Ottawa's acquiescence.
The surrender of sovereign foreign policy is not limited to Afghanistan: Canada under Harper was first to express support for Israel's embargo against the rightfully elected Hamas government in Palestine, and uttered nary a word of protest against Israel's brutal and illegal bombing campaign over Lebanon in 2006. This support came even as one of the last Canadian peacekeepers attached to the United Nations was deliberately murdered, (with three colleagues) by the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) while at his U.N. observation post in southern Lebanon.
Harper too had nothing to say about a Canadian family of seven murdered by a missile as they attempted to flee the Lebanon blitzkrieg in their car. On that occassion, Harper's team thought it more pertinent to question why the Lebanese-Canadians were visiting what was about to become a warzone, rather than demanding the IDF cease its killing spree, at least until the thousands of Canadians known to be in harm's way had a chance to evacuate.
If the official Canadian silence on Israel's serial war crimes in Palestine, crimes that translate as a measured, systematic genocide, were not dutiful enough for America and her racist client/colony in the Middle East, Stephen Harper's Conservatives too take pride of place, being among America's first and most eager accomplices in its self-proclaimed War on Terror, an essentially open-ended declaration of war on any and all standing between America and her perceived "vital interest."
The Canada/U.S. cooperation under arms is an arrangement about to get cosier in Afghanistan, where Canada's demand for a thousand more soldiers is being answered in part by France, which is expected to send as many as 700 more soldiers to relieve American forces operating in the east, enabling then a redeployment of those American soldiers to enjoin the battle at the heart of the resistance to the foreign occupation in southern Afghanistan, beside Canadian Forces.
Harper has proven the perfect pupil for neo-con Washington so far, but a breaking story, predictably dubbed in the press 'NAFTA-gate,' highlights his first failure in his masters' eyes.
In the hours before the much vaunted Clinton-Obama primaries in Ohio and Texas earlier this week, a whisp of scandal wafted south of the forty-ninth. Apparently, the war of words between the candidates, each claiming to audiences in delegate-rich, rust-belt Ohio to hating the NAFTA agreement, largely blamed for the demise of the state's manufacturing sector and loss with it of union jobs, more than the other is nothing but a con.
Agents for both camps had tipped nervous Canadian officials, telling them the NAFTA rhetoric was just that, reassuring the deal was in safe hands.
Curiously, it was the second revelation of Democrat duplicity, that of 'front-runner' Obama, that hit the airwaves. Now, Harper is being pilloried in the U.S. media, dragging down with him the reputation of the Prime Minister's office, and as Toronto Star columnist, Chantal Hebert pointed out on tonight's C.B.C. television broadcast of 'The National,' the administration's loose lips could also sink Canada's foreign services.
Hebert wonders if the Obama-embarrassing revelations would raise doubts in the minds of others who might otherwise confide in Canada, trusting their information would not lead the next evening news, either by political design, or through incompetence. This she argues could make their efforts extremely difficult and disadvantage the country.
It would be ironic if Stephen Harper, accomplished Canadian boot-lick, found himself on the wrong side of history; caught wrong-footed as the new political reality of an Obama presidency dawns.
But perhaps Hillary would smile upon her unwitting servant, who already granted one great service in a tight race needing winning. A second President Clinton would also continue Canada's newly understood role at America's side, as enacted by Harper, extending "The Mission" in Afghanistan still further, and assimilating the rest of the country's military, law enforcement, and political infrastructure.
It will doubtless make for an awkward moment for Stephen Harper, should President Barak Obama come to call. That is assuming Harper has a year left in his rule.
The Chuck Cadman affair is not going away. In that lurid case Harper emissaries offer death bed conversion to the terminally ill independent MP Cadman in exchange for a vote in the House that could bring down the erstwhile Liberals of Paul Martin.
The operatives are said to have offered an insurance policy arrangement allegedly worth up to a million dollars for Cadman's widow, (herself now the official candidate for Harper's conservatives in her late husband's riding).
Though a recording of Stephen Harper admitting he knew beforehand of the plan to make the offer to Cadman, an offer the Liberals insist is a bribe has aired nationwide, Harper does not admit to either authoring, or authorizing the plan. He does however admit to knowing about, and doing nothing to stop their plan - an illegal plan, if the Liberals are proved correct.
That makes Mr. Harper guilty of conspiracy to bribe a public official. Considering the seriousness of the charge, and the dogged grip with which the opposition has taken up the allegation, (Liberal heavy, former hockey star, Ken Dryden going so far as repeating his charge against Harper for the cameras word for word outside House of Commons' slander protections) the Cadman affair could well bring on the election Harper has been spoiling for.
Should Harper and his Republican-like Tories survive the year, or be replaced by the equally servile Liberal party, Canada in 2009 will resemble nothing more than it does today; a rump-nation, pulled along by a shortening leash; made to devote its blood and treasure in the service of a tyrannical master; made to savage the rights and freedoms at home it purportedly fights wars to instill abroad.
This is not the Canada I remember.
This is not the Canada any Canadian can remember.
[Note: Chris Cook is an editor-writer for Pacific Free Press of Canada.]
Written by Chris Cook
Friday, 07 March 2008
The Century has not so far been kind to those Canadians pining reminiscent for the days the country was a liberal democracy; relatively responsible actors on the world stage, the brokers of peace, guarantors of civility and fair governance in a dangerous, chaotic world.
To be fair to the successors of Brian Mulroney, the prime minister who hitched the nation's wagon to America's seemingly forever rising star through the Free Trade Agreement (FTA), destiny dealt them a crummy hand, but both the Jean Chretien and Paul Martin administrations went beyond the investment oriented FTA (later to morph, with the inclusion of Mexico, into the tripartite NAFTA agreement) "committing" Canada to both America's foreign policy objectives, and the military methods it employs to achieve them.
While more extreme than his predecessors, Stephen Harper's administration has merely accelerated the process begun by Mulroney, and furthered by the Liberal party, a process that has most dramatically manifested in the deaths of at least seventy-eight Canadian soldiers in Afghanistan, and the killing and maiming and imprisoning of uncounted numbers of Afghanis.
Harper recently proposed legislation in Parliament to extend the country's entanglement in Afghanistan in the form of a promises made to NATO to continue past the already extended exit schedule of February 2009 through to the end of 2011. He did this with the complicity of the federal Liberals, whose support his minority government had to have.
The fact the majority of Canadians opposed Canada's involvement in what was ostensibly America's revenge for the 9/11 attacks, (based on the untried assumption Osama bin Laden planned and orchestrated the storied operation from his cave hideout in Afghanistan) before the launch of 'Operation Enduring Freedom' carried no freight with Jean Chretien's administration, just as majority opposition to the country's continued involvement means nothing to the current Harper regime. Canadians will continue to follow U.S. diktats in Afghanistan, and both Canadians and Afghanis will continue to pay the price for Ottawa's acquiescence.
The surrender of sovereign foreign policy is not limited to Afghanistan: Canada under Harper was first to express support for Israel's embargo against the rightfully elected Hamas government in Palestine, and uttered nary a word of protest against Israel's brutal and illegal bombing campaign over Lebanon in 2006. This support came even as one of the last Canadian peacekeepers attached to the United Nations was deliberately murdered, (with three colleagues) by the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) while at his U.N. observation post in southern Lebanon.
Harper too had nothing to say about a Canadian family of seven murdered by a missile as they attempted to flee the Lebanon blitzkrieg in their car. On that occassion, Harper's team thought it more pertinent to question why the Lebanese-Canadians were visiting what was about to become a warzone, rather than demanding the IDF cease its killing spree, at least until the thousands of Canadians known to be in harm's way had a chance to evacuate.
If the official Canadian silence on Israel's serial war crimes in Palestine, crimes that translate as a measured, systematic genocide, were not dutiful enough for America and her racist client/colony in the Middle East, Stephen Harper's Conservatives too take pride of place, being among America's first and most eager accomplices in its self-proclaimed War on Terror, an essentially open-ended declaration of war on any and all standing between America and her perceived "vital interest."
The Canada/U.S. cooperation under arms is an arrangement about to get cosier in Afghanistan, where Canada's demand for a thousand more soldiers is being answered in part by France, which is expected to send as many as 700 more soldiers to relieve American forces operating in the east, enabling then a redeployment of those American soldiers to enjoin the battle at the heart of the resistance to the foreign occupation in southern Afghanistan, beside Canadian Forces.
Harper has proven the perfect pupil for neo-con Washington so far, but a breaking story, predictably dubbed in the press 'NAFTA-gate,' highlights his first failure in his masters' eyes.
In the hours before the much vaunted Clinton-Obama primaries in Ohio and Texas earlier this week, a whisp of scandal wafted south of the forty-ninth. Apparently, the war of words between the candidates, each claiming to audiences in delegate-rich, rust-belt Ohio to hating the NAFTA agreement, largely blamed for the demise of the state's manufacturing sector and loss with it of union jobs, more than the other is nothing but a con.
Agents for both camps had tipped nervous Canadian officials, telling them the NAFTA rhetoric was just that, reassuring the deal was in safe hands.
Curiously, it was the second revelation of Democrat duplicity, that of 'front-runner' Obama, that hit the airwaves. Now, Harper is being pilloried in the U.S. media, dragging down with him the reputation of the Prime Minister's office, and as Toronto Star columnist, Chantal Hebert pointed out on tonight's C.B.C. television broadcast of 'The National,' the administration's loose lips could also sink Canada's foreign services.
Hebert wonders if the Obama-embarrassing revelations would raise doubts in the minds of others who might otherwise confide in Canada, trusting their information would not lead the next evening news, either by political design, or through incompetence. This she argues could make their efforts extremely difficult and disadvantage the country.
It would be ironic if Stephen Harper, accomplished Canadian boot-lick, found himself on the wrong side of history; caught wrong-footed as the new political reality of an Obama presidency dawns.
But perhaps Hillary would smile upon her unwitting servant, who already granted one great service in a tight race needing winning. A second President Clinton would also continue Canada's newly understood role at America's side, as enacted by Harper, extending "The Mission" in Afghanistan still further, and assimilating the rest of the country's military, law enforcement, and political infrastructure.
It will doubtless make for an awkward moment for Stephen Harper, should President Barak Obama come to call. That is assuming Harper has a year left in his rule.
The Chuck Cadman affair is not going away. In that lurid case Harper emissaries offer death bed conversion to the terminally ill independent MP Cadman in exchange for a vote in the House that could bring down the erstwhile Liberals of Paul Martin.
The operatives are said to have offered an insurance policy arrangement allegedly worth up to a million dollars for Cadman's widow, (herself now the official candidate for Harper's conservatives in her late husband's riding).
Though a recording of Stephen Harper admitting he knew beforehand of the plan to make the offer to Cadman, an offer the Liberals insist is a bribe has aired nationwide, Harper does not admit to either authoring, or authorizing the plan. He does however admit to knowing about, and doing nothing to stop their plan - an illegal plan, if the Liberals are proved correct.
That makes Mr. Harper guilty of conspiracy to bribe a public official. Considering the seriousness of the charge, and the dogged grip with which the opposition has taken up the allegation, (Liberal heavy, former hockey star, Ken Dryden going so far as repeating his charge against Harper for the cameras word for word outside House of Commons' slander protections) the Cadman affair could well bring on the election Harper has been spoiling for.
Should Harper and his Republican-like Tories survive the year, or be replaced by the equally servile Liberal party, Canada in 2009 will resemble nothing more than it does today; a rump-nation, pulled along by a shortening leash; made to devote its blood and treasure in the service of a tyrannical master; made to savage the rights and freedoms at home it purportedly fights wars to instill abroad.
This is not the Canada I remember.
This is not the Canada any Canadian can remember.
[Note: Chris Cook is an editor-writer for Pacific Free Press of Canada.]
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
POSTSCRIPT: GENDER VS. RACE
Before we leave the subject of race versus gender in presidential politics, consider this: On the world stage, there have been numerous women elected and appointed heads of state, including the current presidents or prime ministers of Ireland, Germany, Finland, the Philippines, Switzerland, Chile, Liberia, India and Argentina.
To my knowledge, there is not and has never been an elected or appointed head of state of African descent in any non-African nation.
Gloria Steinem may consider gender the greater obstacle but world history would suggest otherwise.
Like universal non-profit health care, electing a woman president of the United States of America would secure a place in the growing community of enlightened nations but electing an African American would be entirely new ground.
Electing a woman would be catching up to the rest of the democratic world. By electing an African American, the rest of the world would have to catch up to us.
Jazz.
To my knowledge, there is not and has never been an elected or appointed head of state of African descent in any non-African nation.
Gloria Steinem may consider gender the greater obstacle but world history would suggest otherwise.
Like universal non-profit health care, electing a woman president of the United States of America would secure a place in the growing community of enlightened nations but electing an African American would be entirely new ground.
Electing a woman would be catching up to the rest of the democratic world. By electing an African American, the rest of the world would have to catch up to us.
Jazz.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Jake's Word: Election Analysis
In 2008 our votes in the primaries will be more important than in the general election.
The level of complicity, intentional or not, between the current Bush war policy and the insurgency is disturbing. Perhaps the various factions have decided to restrain themselves in order to wait out the change of government in the U.S. or may return to frequent attacks next year in order to try to shape the US election. They may also be using the time to work out new coalitions against the current Iraqi government and then attempt a political coup rather than a violent one. We aren't likely to get solid information from any of the major news sources. Journalism in Iraq seems to be whatever is delivered by runners to journalists bunkered in relatively safe hotels. It seems quite certain though that nothing has been resolved.
The Republicans want to diminish Iraq as a campaign issue. If the economy doesn't slide into recession that might be enough to get a Republican candidate elected since Clinton only represents Republican lite. Absent a raging war or a recession Gulianni or Romney may appear to be a better choice to a thin majority. Either way, the American people lose. Its just a matter of which flavor of defeat you prefer.
Perhaps a strong tug to the left by voting for Kucinich in the primaries would remind Clinton that she will need those voters to win and to govern. That seems to be the best we can do at the moment.
Jake Berry
The level of complicity, intentional or not, between the current Bush war policy and the insurgency is disturbing. Perhaps the various factions have decided to restrain themselves in order to wait out the change of government in the U.S. or may return to frequent attacks next year in order to try to shape the US election. They may also be using the time to work out new coalitions against the current Iraqi government and then attempt a political coup rather than a violent one. We aren't likely to get solid information from any of the major news sources. Journalism in Iraq seems to be whatever is delivered by runners to journalists bunkered in relatively safe hotels. It seems quite certain though that nothing has been resolved.
The Republicans want to diminish Iraq as a campaign issue. If the economy doesn't slide into recession that might be enough to get a Republican candidate elected since Clinton only represents Republican lite. Absent a raging war or a recession Gulianni or Romney may appear to be a better choice to a thin majority. Either way, the American people lose. Its just a matter of which flavor of defeat you prefer.
Perhaps a strong tug to the left by voting for Kucinich in the primaries would remind Clinton that she will need those voters to win and to govern. That seems to be the best we can do at the moment.
Jake Berry
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
THE PURPLE COW
RANDOM JACK. DISSEMINATE FREELY.
SLINGS & ARROWS OF DIRTY POLITICS
By Jack Random
Given the critical problems of the world – problems that may be more critical to the future of human civilization on earth than any in history – what does the American electorate need to know?
Do Mormons believe that Satan was the brother of Jesus?
Was Barack Obama a drug dealer for the Ayatollahs at a school for Islamic fundamentalists?
I apologize for raising the questions and ask the readers to erase them from their minds.
[Do not imagine a purple cow.]
Even if one supports Hillary Clinton on the issues (I do not), one should refuse to sanction one of the most hypocritical mudslinging campaigns in memory. Not even Trick Dick Nixon accused his opponents of mudslinging for having the audacity to question his integrity on the war (“Nixon has Secret Plan to End War”) shortly before launching his own campaign of dirty tricks.
[Let me make this perfectly clear: I am not accusing my opponent of being a drug dealer.]
As for Mike Huckabee: What a sly dog he has turned out to be. As a self-proclaimed Christian leader, he would never suggest that Mormonism is a blasphemous cult.
[Do not think of a purple cow.]
I have no horse in the Republican race but, if not for the specter of war and the Neocons hiding behind the curtains, nothing would frighten me more than the possibility of a Romney or Huckabee presidency.
As an individual who believes that spiritual matters are a private affair and the separation of church and state is a fundamental tenet of democracy, there is no place for the likes of me in Huckabee’s or Romney’s America.
It is one thing to have candidates of both major parties pandering to the religious right; it is another to have candidates who consider themselves preordained to break down the walls of Jericho.
If American education, with its obsessive testing and faith-based values programs, has failed to inform Americans of the absolute necessity of maintaining the separation of church and state, then we are in deeper trouble than even the most cynical among us have imagined.
The last thing we need is a Christian leader, ordained by the Almighty, commanding a worldwide imperialist crusade.
SLINGS & ARROWS OF DIRTY POLITICS
By Jack Random
Given the critical problems of the world – problems that may be more critical to the future of human civilization on earth than any in history – what does the American electorate need to know?
Do Mormons believe that Satan was the brother of Jesus?
Was Barack Obama a drug dealer for the Ayatollahs at a school for Islamic fundamentalists?
I apologize for raising the questions and ask the readers to erase them from their minds.
[Do not imagine a purple cow.]
Even if one supports Hillary Clinton on the issues (I do not), one should refuse to sanction one of the most hypocritical mudslinging campaigns in memory. Not even Trick Dick Nixon accused his opponents of mudslinging for having the audacity to question his integrity on the war (“Nixon has Secret Plan to End War”) shortly before launching his own campaign of dirty tricks.
[Let me make this perfectly clear: I am not accusing my opponent of being a drug dealer.]
As for Mike Huckabee: What a sly dog he has turned out to be. As a self-proclaimed Christian leader, he would never suggest that Mormonism is a blasphemous cult.
[Do not think of a purple cow.]
I have no horse in the Republican race but, if not for the specter of war and the Neocons hiding behind the curtains, nothing would frighten me more than the possibility of a Romney or Huckabee presidency.
As an individual who believes that spiritual matters are a private affair and the separation of church and state is a fundamental tenet of democracy, there is no place for the likes of me in Huckabee’s or Romney’s America.
It is one thing to have candidates of both major parties pandering to the religious right; it is another to have candidates who consider themselves preordained to break down the walls of Jericho.
If American education, with its obsessive testing and faith-based values programs, has failed to inform Americans of the absolute necessity of maintaining the separation of church and state, then we are in deeper trouble than even the most cynical among us have imagined.
The last thing we need is a Christian leader, ordained by the Almighty, commanding a worldwide imperialist crusade.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Mind of Mansel: Backstage at the Book of Revelation
Spill blood on the Old Testament and it will come to life and illustrate the room. Throw it off the roof of any building in Washington D. C. and the separation of church and state will scream all the way down, the ghost of Jerry Falwell, his bloated corpse screeching and setting off car alarms all the way to Maryland parking lots.
Moses came to life in a classic ink drawing in the Supreme Court decision room the last time they tried to overturn Roe V Wade. Moses kept spitting out about his love for animals two at a time at such a high decibel that they gave up and set the right to lifers loose in the offices of junior congressman with the scent of blood wavering out of locked grins.
Airport runways are to modern politics what bathroom floors were to the ancient Romans. Exiting an airplane in the arms of staffers but knowing that that young boy or girl or lady of the evening is waiting in the limo or hotel room makes it easy to smile for the cameras when you are dangerously close in the polls. The angelic touch of the latest Cause, the latest bumper sticker colored ribbon or button, lapel pin celeb backed luncheon will press any flesh for any non-contribution giving voting or non-voting public if the little known Political rider is honored. They first came to the mind of the public through demands of rock stars or greedy performers but it’s not known that politicians have been demanding their sordid desires for years.
The most legendary rider of any politician was that of Mayor Daley of Chicago. He demanded that every time he traveled for an appearance after the violence of the convention that there be in his room four shabbily dressed young people stripped naked and chained in the shower of his hotel room and two angry Black Panthers to beat them senseless while dressed as F.B.I. informants. Also he wanted the entire room to be perfumed with the sickening smell of Mace. Daley who had built up a love for the smell could only execute his darker sexual desires while witnessing violence.
- Chris Mansel
Moses came to life in a classic ink drawing in the Supreme Court decision room the last time they tried to overturn Roe V Wade. Moses kept spitting out about his love for animals two at a time at such a high decibel that they gave up and set the right to lifers loose in the offices of junior congressman with the scent of blood wavering out of locked grins.
Airport runways are to modern politics what bathroom floors were to the ancient Romans. Exiting an airplane in the arms of staffers but knowing that that young boy or girl or lady of the evening is waiting in the limo or hotel room makes it easy to smile for the cameras when you are dangerously close in the polls. The angelic touch of the latest Cause, the latest bumper sticker colored ribbon or button, lapel pin celeb backed luncheon will press any flesh for any non-contribution giving voting or non-voting public if the little known Political rider is honored. They first came to the mind of the public through demands of rock stars or greedy performers but it’s not known that politicians have been demanding their sordid desires for years.
The most legendary rider of any politician was that of Mayor Daley of Chicago. He demanded that every time he traveled for an appearance after the violence of the convention that there be in his room four shabbily dressed young people stripped naked and chained in the shower of his hotel room and two angry Black Panthers to beat them senseless while dressed as F.B.I. informants. Also he wanted the entire room to be perfumed with the sickening smell of Mace. Daley who had built up a love for the smell could only execute his darker sexual desires while witnessing violence.
- Chris Mansel
Saturday, November 24, 2007
MESSAGE FROM LEONARD PELTIER
(From Harvey Arden)
NO DOUBT, MY NAME will soon be among the list of our Indian dead. At least I will have good company--for no finer, kinder, braver, wiser, worthier men and women have ever walked this Earth than those who have already died for being Indian.
Our dead keep coming at us, a long, long line of dead, ever-growing and never-ending. To list all their names would be impossible, for the great, great majority of us have died unknown, unacknowledged. Yes, even our dead have been stolen from us, uprooted from our memory just as the bones of our honored ancestors have been dishonored by being dug up from their graves and shipped to museums to be boxed and catalogued and hidden away in file-drawers, denied that final request and right of every human being: a decent burial in Mother Earth and proper ceremonies of remembrance to light the way to the Afterworld.
Yes, the roll call of our Indian dead needs to be cried out, to be shouted from every hilltop in order to shatter the terrible silence that tries to erase the fact that we ever existed.
I would like to see a redstone wall like the blackstone wall of the Vietnam War Memorial. Yes, right there on the Mall in Washington, D.C. And on that redstone wall--pigmented with the living blood of our people (and I would happily be the first to donate that blood)--would be the names of all the Indians who ever died for being Indian. It would be hundreds of times longer than the Vietnam Memorial, which commemorates the deaths of fewer than 60,000 brave lost souls. The number of our brave lost souls reaches into the many millions, and every one of them remains unquiet until this day.
Yes, the voices of Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, of Buddy Lamont and Frank Clearwater, of Joe Stuntz and Dallas Thundershield, of Wesley Bad Heart Bull and Raymond Yellow Thunder, of Bobby Garcia and Anna Mae Aquash... those and so, so many others. Their stilled voices cry out at us and demand to be heard.
*
It's strange.
Here I am,
locked in my own shadow for nearly a quarter of a century,
and yet I can reach my hand through stone and steel and razor-wire
and touch the heart of the world. Yes, even your heart, my enemy, my
friend.
Mitakuye Oyasin, my Lakota brethren say.
We are all related. We are One.
*
Sometimes.
Sometimes in the shadowed night
I become spirit.
The walls, the bars, the gratings dissolve into light
and I unloose my soul
and fly through the inner darkness of my being.
I become transparent,
a bright shadow,
a bird of dreams singing from the tree of life.
http://www.amazon.com/Prison-Writings-Life-Sun-Dance/dp/0312263805/ref=sr_1_
2/002-2151140-2027237?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1183932409&sr=1-2
http://www.leonardpeltier.net
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aM5iNVIWuX0
http://cdbaby.com/harveyarden
NO DOUBT, MY NAME will soon be among the list of our Indian dead. At least I will have good company--for no finer, kinder, braver, wiser, worthier men and women have ever walked this Earth than those who have already died for being Indian.
Our dead keep coming at us, a long, long line of dead, ever-growing and never-ending. To list all their names would be impossible, for the great, great majority of us have died unknown, unacknowledged. Yes, even our dead have been stolen from us, uprooted from our memory just as the bones of our honored ancestors have been dishonored by being dug up from their graves and shipped to museums to be boxed and catalogued and hidden away in file-drawers, denied that final request and right of every human being: a decent burial in Mother Earth and proper ceremonies of remembrance to light the way to the Afterworld.
Yes, the roll call of our Indian dead needs to be cried out, to be shouted from every hilltop in order to shatter the terrible silence that tries to erase the fact that we ever existed.
I would like to see a redstone wall like the blackstone wall of the Vietnam War Memorial. Yes, right there on the Mall in Washington, D.C. And on that redstone wall--pigmented with the living blood of our people (and I would happily be the first to donate that blood)--would be the names of all the Indians who ever died for being Indian. It would be hundreds of times longer than the Vietnam Memorial, which commemorates the deaths of fewer than 60,000 brave lost souls. The number of our brave lost souls reaches into the many millions, and every one of them remains unquiet until this day.
Yes, the voices of Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, of Buddy Lamont and Frank Clearwater, of Joe Stuntz and Dallas Thundershield, of Wesley Bad Heart Bull and Raymond Yellow Thunder, of Bobby Garcia and Anna Mae Aquash... those and so, so many others. Their stilled voices cry out at us and demand to be heard.
*
It's strange.
Here I am,
locked in my own shadow for nearly a quarter of a century,
and yet I can reach my hand through stone and steel and razor-wire
and touch the heart of the world. Yes, even your heart, my enemy, my
friend.
Mitakuye Oyasin, my Lakota brethren say.
We are all related. We are One.
*
Sometimes.
Sometimes in the shadowed night
I become spirit.
The walls, the bars, the gratings dissolve into light
and I unloose my soul
and fly through the inner darkness of my being.
I become transparent,
a bright shadow,
a bird of dreams singing from the tree of life.
http://www.amazon.com/Prison-Writings-Life-Sun-Dance/dp/0312263805/ref=sr_1_
2/002-2151140-2027237?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1183932409&sr=1-2
http://www.leonardpeltier.net
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aM5iNVIWuX0
http://cdbaby.com/harveyarden
Thursday, November 15, 2007
DRIVING MS HILLARY: Expanding the War on Terror
By Jack Random
The problem with Senator Hillary Clinton is not that she is a woman. I would love to support a woman for president – preferably a qualified black woman like Congresswoman Barbara Lee – but as former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher instructs us, gender is not the decisive factor in selecting a national leader.
The problem with Senator Clinton is not that she is liberal. If Senator Clinton is liberal, then Rush Limbaugh is moderate. To the extent that Ms Clinton was an active participant in her husband’s administration, she was instrumental in evicting the left from mainstream politics. Like Tony Blair and Gordon Brown did for the Labor Party in Britain, the Clintons redefined the Democratic Party by embracing corporate deregulation, cutting social services (welfare to workfare reform) and promoting international trade agreements that cut the heart out of organized labor.
The problem with Hillary Clinton is certainly not that she is willing to take a stand in opposition to the Neocon philosophy of aggressive and imperial warfare. She is not decidedly antiwar, anti-globalization, pro labor, pro environment or pro civil liberties.
The problem with Senator Clinton is that she is the penultimate triangulator. Triangulation is the art of taking a position on any given issue that is calculated to offend the least and appease the most potential voters.
When a politician vacillates on core issues, such as war, environmental policy, civil liberties or torture, it leaves the distinct impression that there are no core principles or moral values guiding the decision making process.
Like Republicans Rudy Giuliani, Mitt Romney and John McCain, Hillary Clinton reflects the fundamental belief that if you can satisfy most of the people most of the time, you can figure out how to win an election. For lack of a better term, it is the politics of pandering. Applied to a modern age where communication technology disallows direct contradiction, the trick is to remain sufficiently vague and uncommitted so that seeming contradictions can be explained away.
It is interesting that Hillary Rodham was a young Republican before she became a Democrat. While the story of her conversion may be an interesting anecdote, one wonders if the underlying truth is one of opportunism. When did the political ambition of Hillary take root? Did she become a Democrat because she perceived a greater probability of advancement?
The media may have questions regarding the Senator’s White House archives and her position on driver’s licenses for illegal immigrants but it is her positions on the war and the policies of war that continue to haunt everyone who has stood in opposition to war since before “Shock and Awe.”
Senator Clinton was for the war before she was against it. She wants us to believe that she never changed her mind, that she was always against the war, that she only wanted to support diplomacy, that she only wanted to support our troops, and the idea of “hedging her bet” never occurred to her but we have this clinging doubt.
We grow tired reminding the electorate that the Bush Doctrine of aggressive and “pre-emptive” war was already in place at the time of her vote to authorize military action. We grow tired reminding people that the UN inspectors were on the ground and their reports consistently ran contrary to the false accusations of the White House.
Every legislator who voted to authorize the use of force was voting to empower a militant commander with his finger on the trigger. All the excuses about false intelligence are shallow; the truth is clear: the nation was stricken with war fever and few of our leaders had the strength to oppose it.
Four and a half years later, the nation no longer has war fever yet Senator Clinton did it again. Her vote encouraging the White House to classify the Iranian Revolutionary Guard a “terrorist organization” was made to order for the Bush warlords. The classification was unprecedented as Bush made it so without delay.
If Senator Clinton was dazed and confused about the meaning of this action, she might have listened to her colleague, Senator Jim Webb, as he forewarned it was all the authorization the president would need.
A dance with the devil or a deal at the crossroads, Hillary Clinton knew well the implications of her vote. She signed on the dotted line a comrade in the war on terror. When fate gave her a second chance, she signed again.
My objection to the “sense of the Senate” resolution goes well beyond the suspicion that the president will use it as authorization for war. It is factually incorrect and eminently misleading.
The allegations hold that the Revolutionary Guard is providing aid and assistance to Shiite Militias in Iraq, arms and supplies to the Taliban in Afghanistan, and material support to Hezbollah in Lebanon and Hamas in Palestine.
It may not be enshrined in international law but no nation should be empowered to accuse another of terrorist activities when it is engaged in similar activities on a grander scale.
It would be shocking indeed if Iran was not engaged in occupied Iraq and occupied Afghanistan. The inclusion of Iran in the “axis of evil” was a virtual declaration of war. As a designated enemy state, would we expect Iran to stand idly by while we occupied their neighbors?
The Shiite militias may be an enemy of the occupation but they are not the enemies of the Iraqi government or the people they are charged with protecting. Moreover, the Iranians were our strongest ally against both Al Qaeda and the Taliban before we declared them enemies.
Fundamentally, it is far more within Iran’s rights to oppose a foreign occupier in a neighboring nation than it is within our rights to invade and occupy a nation on the other side of the planet.
As for Hezbollah and Hamas, we have long anticipated that the war on terror would be used as a pretext for going after the enemies of Israel. When Hezbollah fought back the bombardment of southern Lebanon, even adversaries had to concede the necessity of maintaining a counterforce to Israeli aggression. As Hezbollah is to Lebanon, so Hamas is to Palestine.
The designation of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard as a terrorist organization is an unwarranted and dangerous expansion of the war on terror.
The international community, if it possessed the courage, could find far more convincing grounds to classify Blackwater USA, the special operations unit of the CIA and, indeed, the respective branches of the United States military terrorist organizations.
Before we take such actions we should be forewarned: American power is in decline. There may come a time when international institutions of justice are no longer intimidated by America’s might.
Should that time come, we could easily see the spectacle of our leaders on trial as terrorists and war criminals.
Senator Clinton would protest: We only wanted strong diplomacy.
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON NUMEROUS CITES OF THE WORLDWIDE WEB, INCLUDING THE ALBION MONITOR, BELLACIAO, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH, DISSIDENT VOICE, THE NATIONAL FREE PRESS AND PACIFIC FREE PRESS. SEE WWW.JAZZMANCHRONICLES.BLOGSPOT.COM.
The problem with Senator Hillary Clinton is not that she is a woman. I would love to support a woman for president – preferably a qualified black woman like Congresswoman Barbara Lee – but as former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher instructs us, gender is not the decisive factor in selecting a national leader.
The problem with Senator Clinton is not that she is liberal. If Senator Clinton is liberal, then Rush Limbaugh is moderate. To the extent that Ms Clinton was an active participant in her husband’s administration, she was instrumental in evicting the left from mainstream politics. Like Tony Blair and Gordon Brown did for the Labor Party in Britain, the Clintons redefined the Democratic Party by embracing corporate deregulation, cutting social services (welfare to workfare reform) and promoting international trade agreements that cut the heart out of organized labor.
The problem with Hillary Clinton is certainly not that she is willing to take a stand in opposition to the Neocon philosophy of aggressive and imperial warfare. She is not decidedly antiwar, anti-globalization, pro labor, pro environment or pro civil liberties.
The problem with Senator Clinton is that she is the penultimate triangulator. Triangulation is the art of taking a position on any given issue that is calculated to offend the least and appease the most potential voters.
When a politician vacillates on core issues, such as war, environmental policy, civil liberties or torture, it leaves the distinct impression that there are no core principles or moral values guiding the decision making process.
Like Republicans Rudy Giuliani, Mitt Romney and John McCain, Hillary Clinton reflects the fundamental belief that if you can satisfy most of the people most of the time, you can figure out how to win an election. For lack of a better term, it is the politics of pandering. Applied to a modern age where communication technology disallows direct contradiction, the trick is to remain sufficiently vague and uncommitted so that seeming contradictions can be explained away.
It is interesting that Hillary Rodham was a young Republican before she became a Democrat. While the story of her conversion may be an interesting anecdote, one wonders if the underlying truth is one of opportunism. When did the political ambition of Hillary take root? Did she become a Democrat because she perceived a greater probability of advancement?
The media may have questions regarding the Senator’s White House archives and her position on driver’s licenses for illegal immigrants but it is her positions on the war and the policies of war that continue to haunt everyone who has stood in opposition to war since before “Shock and Awe.”
Senator Clinton was for the war before she was against it. She wants us to believe that she never changed her mind, that she was always against the war, that she only wanted to support diplomacy, that she only wanted to support our troops, and the idea of “hedging her bet” never occurred to her but we have this clinging doubt.
We grow tired reminding the electorate that the Bush Doctrine of aggressive and “pre-emptive” war was already in place at the time of her vote to authorize military action. We grow tired reminding people that the UN inspectors were on the ground and their reports consistently ran contrary to the false accusations of the White House.
Every legislator who voted to authorize the use of force was voting to empower a militant commander with his finger on the trigger. All the excuses about false intelligence are shallow; the truth is clear: the nation was stricken with war fever and few of our leaders had the strength to oppose it.
Four and a half years later, the nation no longer has war fever yet Senator Clinton did it again. Her vote encouraging the White House to classify the Iranian Revolutionary Guard a “terrorist organization” was made to order for the Bush warlords. The classification was unprecedented as Bush made it so without delay.
If Senator Clinton was dazed and confused about the meaning of this action, she might have listened to her colleague, Senator Jim Webb, as he forewarned it was all the authorization the president would need.
A dance with the devil or a deal at the crossroads, Hillary Clinton knew well the implications of her vote. She signed on the dotted line a comrade in the war on terror. When fate gave her a second chance, she signed again.
My objection to the “sense of the Senate” resolution goes well beyond the suspicion that the president will use it as authorization for war. It is factually incorrect and eminently misleading.
The allegations hold that the Revolutionary Guard is providing aid and assistance to Shiite Militias in Iraq, arms and supplies to the Taliban in Afghanistan, and material support to Hezbollah in Lebanon and Hamas in Palestine.
It may not be enshrined in international law but no nation should be empowered to accuse another of terrorist activities when it is engaged in similar activities on a grander scale.
It would be shocking indeed if Iran was not engaged in occupied Iraq and occupied Afghanistan. The inclusion of Iran in the “axis of evil” was a virtual declaration of war. As a designated enemy state, would we expect Iran to stand idly by while we occupied their neighbors?
The Shiite militias may be an enemy of the occupation but they are not the enemies of the Iraqi government or the people they are charged with protecting. Moreover, the Iranians were our strongest ally against both Al Qaeda and the Taliban before we declared them enemies.
Fundamentally, it is far more within Iran’s rights to oppose a foreign occupier in a neighboring nation than it is within our rights to invade and occupy a nation on the other side of the planet.
As for Hezbollah and Hamas, we have long anticipated that the war on terror would be used as a pretext for going after the enemies of Israel. When Hezbollah fought back the bombardment of southern Lebanon, even adversaries had to concede the necessity of maintaining a counterforce to Israeli aggression. As Hezbollah is to Lebanon, so Hamas is to Palestine.
The designation of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard as a terrorist organization is an unwarranted and dangerous expansion of the war on terror.
The international community, if it possessed the courage, could find far more convincing grounds to classify Blackwater USA, the special operations unit of the CIA and, indeed, the respective branches of the United States military terrorist organizations.
Before we take such actions we should be forewarned: American power is in decline. There may come a time when international institutions of justice are no longer intimidated by America’s might.
Should that time come, we could easily see the spectacle of our leaders on trial as terrorists and war criminals.
Senator Clinton would protest: We only wanted strong diplomacy.
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON NUMEROUS CITES OF THE WORLDWIDE WEB, INCLUDING THE ALBION MONITOR, BELLACIAO, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH, DISSIDENT VOICE, THE NATIONAL FREE PRESS AND PACIFIC FREE PRESS. SEE WWW.JAZZMANCHRONICLES.BLOGSPOT.COM.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Capricorn One Comes To Pakistan
With the current chaos in Pakistan the world is in an uproar and rightly so. Aid is considered to be cut off in official press releases while you can imagine phone tag being played and jokes being made:
Bush Administration official: “Oh yea, aid is being cut off, we’ll rip off real quick so it’ll only hurt for a minute and then give you another one. (laughs) Hey, by the way, next time you bomb Bhutto, try putting it inside the damn bus will ya?”
CNN ran a slightly offensive infomercial this evening with the same revolving 15 second bit of footage playing over and over with talking heads going on and on… What it all boils down to is the Bush administration, like that of Nixon in the 1960’s, will support and aid any acts of dirty pool or assassination, period. Take that to the bank, Karl Rove or not.
Official press corps were present to capture the arrests and beatings of protesters, well-dressed protesters, and in a country where the phone lines were reportedly down, Internet reports are still getting out along with video and still photography. All that is missing is is an official Fox News banner flying over the crowd and war torn, grizzled Fox security in their khaki vests keeping the truth victimized for us across the border.
- Chris Mansel
Bush Administration official: “Oh yea, aid is being cut off, we’ll rip off real quick so it’ll only hurt for a minute and then give you another one. (laughs) Hey, by the way, next time you bomb Bhutto, try putting it inside the damn bus will ya?”
CNN ran a slightly offensive infomercial this evening with the same revolving 15 second bit of footage playing over and over with talking heads going on and on… What it all boils down to is the Bush administration, like that of Nixon in the 1960’s, will support and aid any acts of dirty pool or assassination, period. Take that to the bank, Karl Rove or not.
Official press corps were present to capture the arrests and beatings of protesters, well-dressed protesters, and in a country where the phone lines were reportedly down, Internet reports are still getting out along with video and still photography. All that is missing is is an official Fox News banner flying over the crowd and war torn, grizzled Fox security in their khaki vests keeping the truth victimized for us across the border.
- Chris Mansel
Monday, November 05, 2007
Mind of Mansel: 3 4 1
Branch In The Ice Glass Cube
Apprehended and controlled? Never in Washington and certainly not in the guise of a political party. Arrested only happens back in your home state. The only way you are arrested in the district is when you go against, for any other lack of reference, the establishment. The establishment for our point of reference here is not any political party, it’s the machine.
Recounting in black and white works in the movies, but in the quick motion world of soundbites of CNN and the Internet the worst thing you can do is hire an image consultant, approach a reporter who is image conscious, or whose track record you are unaware of. Take a look at the Larry Craig situation.
The Wood Inside The Frame
The diesel was rotten and the stench coming out the back was soft core for the Washington D.C. crowd hanging out around Dupont Circle. Inside the trailer of the truck are computer screens and printers spitting out the eavesdropping information on every politician in the district. The information sits on shelves in Delaware malls while prices are worked out and it’s no short order work. Once a case goes to trial the information can be fed to the grand jury or not based on the level of cash flowing into Delaware.
The inside story has it that the National Review has a twenty-thousand square foot former jewelry store set aside for its own bad seeds that they have been paying on for years, but mind you the shelves go all the way to the ceiling and are a tremendous fire hazard.
Highway markers on the way to Delaware if translated into the trickle down economics of Ronald Reagan will give you a guide to the precise aisle and box to each transgression. For instance, a particular mile marker taken with the name of a local town, the letters taken together and re-arranged under the right frame of mind, not counting the use of acronyms and terminal drug use will give you the answers you need.
Documentary In A Campaign Year
There’s a church on the border
Between the proximity
Of rape and what we voted for
Where hooded holy men
And killers sleep standing up in freezing
Water they swallowed yesterday
Released out at sea, extradition
Rendition, and revolution under a flag
Freedom of speech in a body bag
- Chris Mansel
[christophermansel@hotmail.com]
Apprehended and controlled? Never in Washington and certainly not in the guise of a political party. Arrested only happens back in your home state. The only way you are arrested in the district is when you go against, for any other lack of reference, the establishment. The establishment for our point of reference here is not any political party, it’s the machine.
Recounting in black and white works in the movies, but in the quick motion world of soundbites of CNN and the Internet the worst thing you can do is hire an image consultant, approach a reporter who is image conscious, or whose track record you are unaware of. Take a look at the Larry Craig situation.
The Wood Inside The Frame
The diesel was rotten and the stench coming out the back was soft core for the Washington D.C. crowd hanging out around Dupont Circle. Inside the trailer of the truck are computer screens and printers spitting out the eavesdropping information on every politician in the district. The information sits on shelves in Delaware malls while prices are worked out and it’s no short order work. Once a case goes to trial the information can be fed to the grand jury or not based on the level of cash flowing into Delaware.
The inside story has it that the National Review has a twenty-thousand square foot former jewelry store set aside for its own bad seeds that they have been paying on for years, but mind you the shelves go all the way to the ceiling and are a tremendous fire hazard.
Highway markers on the way to Delaware if translated into the trickle down economics of Ronald Reagan will give you a guide to the precise aisle and box to each transgression. For instance, a particular mile marker taken with the name of a local town, the letters taken together and re-arranged under the right frame of mind, not counting the use of acronyms and terminal drug use will give you the answers you need.
Documentary In A Campaign Year
There’s a church on the border
Between the proximity
Of rape and what we voted for
Where hooded holy men
And killers sleep standing up in freezing
Water they swallowed yesterday
Released out at sea, extradition
Rendition, and revolution under a flag
Freedom of speech in a body bag
- Chris Mansel
[christophermansel@hotmail.com]
Friday, October 26, 2007
Buckets of Blood: Politics (the Old Fashion Way)
(The Mind of Mansel)
Two fisted anal implants on a Washington D.C. scale, adjusting the level of discourse by kicking the glass out of a USA Today machine and cutting the multi-colored graphs out of the paper and inserting them violently into the mouths of Washington staffers and watching as they swerve very fast down the marble steps of the House of Representatives as CNN cameramen film it for their own private home porn.
Buying heroin for cameramen in Washington will get you footage that will bend your hair back into your ear canal. My partner Jack Random and I hadn't been to Washington in a while but it was on this trip that we found that one bit of footage that would almost start a revolution in the United States of America, almost.
Stakeout a coffee house in Washington D.C. and you'll catch some go-getters, some lackeys, some wannabe's and some insiders who just may have the answers to those questions you have the theory to but have learned that if they talk they will indeed be killed or ruined on a medical level.
Footage, any footage of any politician committing any violent sex act in leather, fish guts or wrapped in moldy copies of the Washington Post will get you unlimited means of cash. We got a message from the doorman of a famous Washington Hotel bartender that a video of Karen Hughes, the spinster and Death’s head brick chunking mistress of the more right of the right wing of the Republican Party was on tape, dispensing entire cans of mixed fruit at young Mexican boys while Minutemen in the background on the Arizona border watched in awe and sat naked loading and unloading foreign manufactured weapons just like so many scenes in the A Team series that was so popular in the 1980’s. We had to get the tape and we set out with a suitcase full of drugs, banned toys from China to grease the more conservative lobbyists, and hard drives full of leaked CIA papers on the four major networks coverage of the current presidential campaign.
- Chris Mansel
[christophermansel@hotmail.com]
Two fisted anal implants on a Washington D.C. scale, adjusting the level of discourse by kicking the glass out of a USA Today machine and cutting the multi-colored graphs out of the paper and inserting them violently into the mouths of Washington staffers and watching as they swerve very fast down the marble steps of the House of Representatives as CNN cameramen film it for their own private home porn.
Buying heroin for cameramen in Washington will get you footage that will bend your hair back into your ear canal. My partner Jack Random and I hadn't been to Washington in a while but it was on this trip that we found that one bit of footage that would almost start a revolution in the United States of America, almost.
Stakeout a coffee house in Washington D.C. and you'll catch some go-getters, some lackeys, some wannabe's and some insiders who just may have the answers to those questions you have the theory to but have learned that if they talk they will indeed be killed or ruined on a medical level.
Footage, any footage of any politician committing any violent sex act in leather, fish guts or wrapped in moldy copies of the Washington Post will get you unlimited means of cash. We got a message from the doorman of a famous Washington Hotel bartender that a video of Karen Hughes, the spinster and Death’s head brick chunking mistress of the more right of the right wing of the Republican Party was on tape, dispensing entire cans of mixed fruit at young Mexican boys while Minutemen in the background on the Arizona border watched in awe and sat naked loading and unloading foreign manufactured weapons just like so many scenes in the A Team series that was so popular in the 1980’s. We had to get the tape and we set out with a suitcase full of drugs, banned toys from China to grease the more conservative lobbyists, and hard drives full of leaked CIA papers on the four major networks coverage of the current presidential campaign.
- Chris Mansel
[christophermansel@hotmail.com]
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
NOTES ON A FREE PRESS
JAZZMAN CHRONICLES. DISSEMINATE FREELY.
A FEDERAL SHIELD LAW
By Jack Random
There was something missing from the New York Times editorial “Defending Press Freedom” (10/22/07) and little wonder. The Times went to bat for a federal shield law now under consideration in congress to “protect reporters from being forced to reveal confidential sources in federal court.”
Missing was any reference to the high profile cases that brought this issue to the public’s attention, none of which involved an insider attempting to reveal government wrong-doing or criminal activity.
We recall that the Times’ own Judith Miller was sent to jail for not revealing her contacts in the White House who coincidentally revealed the identity of a CIA operative. Judy Miller was not protecting a truth-teller in the government; she was protecting deceivers in the White House who disseminated misinformation through her office at the Times.
It worked like this: A confidential White House source (someone in Dick Cheney’s office) would deliver privileged inside “information” regarding Iraqi weapons of mass destruction. That “information” would find its way onto the front pages of the “paper of record” and the White House would in turn cite the Times in support of its position. In other words, Judy Miller used the reputation of the Times as a fence for White House propaganda.
Of course, Ms Miller did not to jail for that betrayal of the public trust. She went to jail for refusing to reveal whom in the White House leaked the identity of CIA operative Valerie Plame Wilson. In that sordid affair, Ms Miller and colleagues were not protecting a whistleblower but the person or persons that committed the crime. (Contrary to certain analysts who claim that a crime was not committed because it was not prosecuted, the failure to prosecute was only an admission that the prosecutor could not determine who committed the crime first.)
Another case where reporters faced prosecution for refusing to reveal sources was the BALCO steroids case in which two enterprising reporters received a mountain of confidential transcripts from a Grand Jury insider sworn to secrecy. They used this information to write a hot-topic book that gained a lot of media attention and damaged the reputation of baseball player Barry Bonds. It also compromised the integrity of the Grand Jury process.
With a government prone to secrecy and eager to defy any law that does not conform to its distorted notion of national security, there is in fact a compelling need for legislative protection of whistleblowers who wish to avoid the repercussions of doing the right thing. The example of former Ambassador Joe Wilson (Valerie’s husband) clearly demonstrates the consequences of truth telling (the fictitious Iraq-Niger uranium connection) when the truth conflicts with the government’s agenda.
The problem is: We have no such examples in today’s mainstream press. None of these cases illustrates a need for a federal shield law. If anything, they accomplish the opposite.
These were not heroes of the fourth estate serving the interests of the nation. They were, at best, serving their own interests and, at worst, serving the nefarious interests of the government.
The fact is: We need a federal shield law to protect the legitimate pursuit of journalism and the use of anonymous sources to that end.
Unfortunately, the cases before us fail the test.
The question becomes: How do we protect the legitimate uses of anonymous sources without providing cover for illegitimate or abusive uses?
It seems to me the more compelling need is for media reform to insure that the press fulfills its responsibility to the public first. If the media were truly independent and not subservient to corporate interests, its reporters would be worthy of protection.
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON NUMEROUS CITES OF THE WORLDWIDE WEB, INCLUDING THE ALBION MONITOR, BELLACIAO, PACIFIC FREE PRESS, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH AND DISSIDENT VOICE.
A FEDERAL SHIELD LAW
By Jack Random
There was something missing from the New York Times editorial “Defending Press Freedom” (10/22/07) and little wonder. The Times went to bat for a federal shield law now under consideration in congress to “protect reporters from being forced to reveal confidential sources in federal court.”
Missing was any reference to the high profile cases that brought this issue to the public’s attention, none of which involved an insider attempting to reveal government wrong-doing or criminal activity.
We recall that the Times’ own Judith Miller was sent to jail for not revealing her contacts in the White House who coincidentally revealed the identity of a CIA operative. Judy Miller was not protecting a truth-teller in the government; she was protecting deceivers in the White House who disseminated misinformation through her office at the Times.
It worked like this: A confidential White House source (someone in Dick Cheney’s office) would deliver privileged inside “information” regarding Iraqi weapons of mass destruction. That “information” would find its way onto the front pages of the “paper of record” and the White House would in turn cite the Times in support of its position. In other words, Judy Miller used the reputation of the Times as a fence for White House propaganda.
Of course, Ms Miller did not to jail for that betrayal of the public trust. She went to jail for refusing to reveal whom in the White House leaked the identity of CIA operative Valerie Plame Wilson. In that sordid affair, Ms Miller and colleagues were not protecting a whistleblower but the person or persons that committed the crime. (Contrary to certain analysts who claim that a crime was not committed because it was not prosecuted, the failure to prosecute was only an admission that the prosecutor could not determine who committed the crime first.)
Another case where reporters faced prosecution for refusing to reveal sources was the BALCO steroids case in which two enterprising reporters received a mountain of confidential transcripts from a Grand Jury insider sworn to secrecy. They used this information to write a hot-topic book that gained a lot of media attention and damaged the reputation of baseball player Barry Bonds. It also compromised the integrity of the Grand Jury process.
With a government prone to secrecy and eager to defy any law that does not conform to its distorted notion of national security, there is in fact a compelling need for legislative protection of whistleblowers who wish to avoid the repercussions of doing the right thing. The example of former Ambassador Joe Wilson (Valerie’s husband) clearly demonstrates the consequences of truth telling (the fictitious Iraq-Niger uranium connection) when the truth conflicts with the government’s agenda.
The problem is: We have no such examples in today’s mainstream press. None of these cases illustrates a need for a federal shield law. If anything, they accomplish the opposite.
These were not heroes of the fourth estate serving the interests of the nation. They were, at best, serving their own interests and, at worst, serving the nefarious interests of the government.
The fact is: We need a federal shield law to protect the legitimate pursuit of journalism and the use of anonymous sources to that end.
Unfortunately, the cases before us fail the test.
The question becomes: How do we protect the legitimate uses of anonymous sources without providing cover for illegitimate or abusive uses?
It seems to me the more compelling need is for media reform to insure that the press fulfills its responsibility to the public first. If the media were truly independent and not subservient to corporate interests, its reporters would be worthy of protection.
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON NUMEROUS CITES OF THE WORLDWIDE WEB, INCLUDING THE ALBION MONITOR, BELLACIAO, PACIFIC FREE PRESS, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH AND DISSIDENT VOICE.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Fools Parade: Following the Neocon Dream
THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES: DISSEMINATE FREELY.
By Jack Random
The nation is lost in a world of illusions, dreams and fantasies that have no founding on the solid ground of earth.
The war drags on at a debilitating cost in wasted money and blood yet there is a growing consensus that our future in Iraq will depend largely on our progress “on the ground.”
With empathy for all those who are so easily guided by mainstream chords, it is the wrong premise and can only lead to the wrong policies.
Morality cannot be mediated by “success.”
What can we say about a nation so egomaniacal, so blinded by its ambition, that it refuses to acknowledge the immoral nature of our actions? Would fascism have been fashionable if the Axis had prevailed? Would the genocidal destruction of Vietnam be considered virtuous if we had killed everything that walked or crawled to make the world safe from the communist threat? Were the bombings of Hiroshima, Nagasaki and Dresden acts of moral impunity because the winning side committed them?
In Iraq, we have committed a series of war crimes, beginning with the cardinal crime of aggressive war. We are directly responsible for hundreds of thousands of lives lost and indirectly for millions. Our motives were clear from the first glimmer in the eyes of our oil industry president: greed, ego and lust for power.
In the name of democracy, under the banners of peace, justice and security, we have committed crimes against humanity that the world will not forget as long as civilization survives.
We have established a client state under martial law, compelled the population to elect a puppet government, exploited religious and cultural divisions, drafted a constitution that privatizes state functions and exploits Iraqi oil, and threatened to leave them to their own demise if they do not honor our dictates.
If the Iraqis believed us, if they felt they could trust us even for a moment, if any notion of cooperation or beneficent intent survived Abu Ghraib, Haditha and Fallujah, they would tell us to leave in a New York minute. They would tell us forthrightly we were never welcome in their land. They would inform us that we have destroyed their nation, killed their women and children, and every second we remain on their soil is another second of Iraqi shame.
They would tell us they do not believe anything we say. They do not believe we have any intention of leaving as long as there is oil beneath their sands. They see the monolithic fortresses we have built all along the oil pipelines and they believe what they see.
They believe the pain and sorrow buried in their hearts will not abate until the occupiers are evicted from their land. They believe their dead can never rest until the invaders are gone. They believe we will kill anyone who does not cooperate in operation Steal the Oil. They believe what they see.
They watch American media and they see a parade of fools signing on to the Neocon dream. Not one viable candidate for the presidency can envision a future without the spoils of the Iraqi occupation. They took Colin Powell’s Pottery Barn warning literally: You break it, you own it.
They watch the occupation’s new commander and learn that there is progress “on the ground.”
Where are these signs of progress? The month of September was one of the bloodiest on record. Assassination of Iraqi leaders is becoming a common occurrence. Neighborhoods in Baghdad are being walled off and ethnically cleansed. Turkey is invading from the north. American leaders are threatening to broaden the war zone to Iran and Syria. Syria is blocking its borders to Iraqi refugees.
Progress is relative concept. The Bush administration is making progress convincing the party of opposition that the occupation must go on indefinitely.
Progress is nullifying the 2006 election and its mandate to end the war. The president asks for another $50 billion and the fools in congress, apparently intimidated by the most ineffectual president in history, demur and accede.
Presidential candidates Obama, Clinton and Edwards step to the microphone and decline to promise complete withdrawal by the end of their first term.
There is no cry of protest from the general populace as war stories fade from the front pages of local newspapers. The dead are mostly Iraqi and the media are mostly indifferent.
The building of the most heavily fortified embassy in the history of the world goes on even as the rebuilding of the levees in New Orleans is neglected.
We are all Neocons now for we have joined the parade of fools marching as to war.
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON COUNTLESS CITES ON THE WORLDWIDE WEB, INCLUDING THE ALBION MONITOR, PACIFIC FREE PRESS, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH AND DISSIDENT VOICE.
By Jack Random
The nation is lost in a world of illusions, dreams and fantasies that have no founding on the solid ground of earth.
The war drags on at a debilitating cost in wasted money and blood yet there is a growing consensus that our future in Iraq will depend largely on our progress “on the ground.”
With empathy for all those who are so easily guided by mainstream chords, it is the wrong premise and can only lead to the wrong policies.
Morality cannot be mediated by “success.”
What can we say about a nation so egomaniacal, so blinded by its ambition, that it refuses to acknowledge the immoral nature of our actions? Would fascism have been fashionable if the Axis had prevailed? Would the genocidal destruction of Vietnam be considered virtuous if we had killed everything that walked or crawled to make the world safe from the communist threat? Were the bombings of Hiroshima, Nagasaki and Dresden acts of moral impunity because the winning side committed them?
In Iraq, we have committed a series of war crimes, beginning with the cardinal crime of aggressive war. We are directly responsible for hundreds of thousands of lives lost and indirectly for millions. Our motives were clear from the first glimmer in the eyes of our oil industry president: greed, ego and lust for power.
In the name of democracy, under the banners of peace, justice and security, we have committed crimes against humanity that the world will not forget as long as civilization survives.
We have established a client state under martial law, compelled the population to elect a puppet government, exploited religious and cultural divisions, drafted a constitution that privatizes state functions and exploits Iraqi oil, and threatened to leave them to their own demise if they do not honor our dictates.
If the Iraqis believed us, if they felt they could trust us even for a moment, if any notion of cooperation or beneficent intent survived Abu Ghraib, Haditha and Fallujah, they would tell us to leave in a New York minute. They would tell us forthrightly we were never welcome in their land. They would inform us that we have destroyed their nation, killed their women and children, and every second we remain on their soil is another second of Iraqi shame.
They would tell us they do not believe anything we say. They do not believe we have any intention of leaving as long as there is oil beneath their sands. They see the monolithic fortresses we have built all along the oil pipelines and they believe what they see.
They believe the pain and sorrow buried in their hearts will not abate until the occupiers are evicted from their land. They believe their dead can never rest until the invaders are gone. They believe we will kill anyone who does not cooperate in operation Steal the Oil. They believe what they see.
They watch American media and they see a parade of fools signing on to the Neocon dream. Not one viable candidate for the presidency can envision a future without the spoils of the Iraqi occupation. They took Colin Powell’s Pottery Barn warning literally: You break it, you own it.
They watch the occupation’s new commander and learn that there is progress “on the ground.”
Where are these signs of progress? The month of September was one of the bloodiest on record. Assassination of Iraqi leaders is becoming a common occurrence. Neighborhoods in Baghdad are being walled off and ethnically cleansed. Turkey is invading from the north. American leaders are threatening to broaden the war zone to Iran and Syria. Syria is blocking its borders to Iraqi refugees.
Progress is relative concept. The Bush administration is making progress convincing the party of opposition that the occupation must go on indefinitely.
Progress is nullifying the 2006 election and its mandate to end the war. The president asks for another $50 billion and the fools in congress, apparently intimidated by the most ineffectual president in history, demur and accede.
Presidential candidates Obama, Clinton and Edwards step to the microphone and decline to promise complete withdrawal by the end of their first term.
There is no cry of protest from the general populace as war stories fade from the front pages of local newspapers. The dead are mostly Iraqi and the media are mostly indifferent.
The building of the most heavily fortified embassy in the history of the world goes on even as the rebuilding of the levees in New Orleans is neglected.
We are all Neocons now for we have joined the parade of fools marching as to war.
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON COUNTLESS CITES ON THE WORLDWIDE WEB, INCLUDING THE ALBION MONITOR, PACIFIC FREE PRESS, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH AND DISSIDENT VOICE.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
On The Armenian Genocide
The US House of Representatives Committee on Foreign Affairs is a strange place indeed, an island within an island, so isolated from the surrounding world it deemed it appropriate to condemn an Armenian genocide nearly a century old while it finances the ongoing genocide in Iraq.
The genocide inflicted on the Armenians by the Ottoman Empire is very comparable to what is happening on the ground in Iraq except the victim population in Iraq is multicultural and multi-sectarian: Sunni, Shiite and Christian. (Thus far, the Kurds have largely been spared but that could easily change with the entry of Turkey into the war equation.)
Best estimates are over a million Iraqi dead, mass evictions by neighborhood, town and region, and several million refugees in neighboring nations. Our actions may not meet the technical definition of genocide but the evidence of crimes against humanity on a genocidal scale is impressive.
If Congress wishes to condemn the Ottoman Empire at this late date, they ought to clear the genocidal palate by condemning our own genocide committed against the indigenous peoples of North America.
On the occasion of American Indian Movement leader Vernon Bellecourt’s elevation to the Overworld, it would be fitting to finally say aloud what all informed citizenry know and accept: This nation has committed genocide. How can we condemn another people from another land if we fail to admit that our own historical basement conceals a buried child – an estimated 90% of the indigenous population?
While we’re clearing the air, let us acknowledge in a meaningful way the debt we owe African American citizens for a legacy of slavery.
Our representatives in Congress are no different than their counterparts in Turkey. They are frightened near to death that their nation will be held to account for its historical crimes – crimes that include stealing billions from tribal funds held by the Bureau of Indian Affairs. The mere whisper of the word “reparations” sends shock waves through the marble halls of deliberation.
This is the real reason we can never admit national guilt: accountability.
If we were held to account, we would be bankrupt overnight. Moreover, we would be bound never to commit crimes against humanity again.
The House Foreign Affairs Committee voted to acknowledge historical truth, an act that should be considered honorable, yet it dishonored that truth with the stain of hypocrisy.
On the matter of genocide, the American government is a glass house and should not be throwing stones.
RANDOM JACK. DISSEMINATE FREELY.
The genocide inflicted on the Armenians by the Ottoman Empire is very comparable to what is happening on the ground in Iraq except the victim population in Iraq is multicultural and multi-sectarian: Sunni, Shiite and Christian. (Thus far, the Kurds have largely been spared but that could easily change with the entry of Turkey into the war equation.)
Best estimates are over a million Iraqi dead, mass evictions by neighborhood, town and region, and several million refugees in neighboring nations. Our actions may not meet the technical definition of genocide but the evidence of crimes against humanity on a genocidal scale is impressive.
If Congress wishes to condemn the Ottoman Empire at this late date, they ought to clear the genocidal palate by condemning our own genocide committed against the indigenous peoples of North America.
On the occasion of American Indian Movement leader Vernon Bellecourt’s elevation to the Overworld, it would be fitting to finally say aloud what all informed citizenry know and accept: This nation has committed genocide. How can we condemn another people from another land if we fail to admit that our own historical basement conceals a buried child – an estimated 90% of the indigenous population?
While we’re clearing the air, let us acknowledge in a meaningful way the debt we owe African American citizens for a legacy of slavery.
Our representatives in Congress are no different than their counterparts in Turkey. They are frightened near to death that their nation will be held to account for its historical crimes – crimes that include stealing billions from tribal funds held by the Bureau of Indian Affairs. The mere whisper of the word “reparations” sends shock waves through the marble halls of deliberation.
This is the real reason we can never admit national guilt: accountability.
If we were held to account, we would be bankrupt overnight. Moreover, we would be bound never to commit crimes against humanity again.
The House Foreign Affairs Committee voted to acknowledge historical truth, an act that should be considered honorable, yet it dishonored that truth with the stain of hypocrisy.
On the matter of genocide, the American government is a glass house and should not be throwing stones.
RANDOM JACK. DISSEMINATE FREELY.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Mind of Mansel: Candidate
That one unadulterated singular voice this country needs in political office is not out there and it is certainly not running for presidential office. It takes more than speaking truth to power. It takes more than standing up for what you believe in. Who among us believes there is one politician who thinks beyond the passing of the resolution or law about the body count that will later ensue a month down the road, a year? Who in office speaks of change and follows it, pursues it? A sound bite does not a well thought out conversation make.
We need a President who believes in peace for the Palestinian people and who believes that the Israelis do engage in acts of terror. We need a President who believes in peace for the people of Tibet and a return of His Holiness the Dali lama to his homeland instead of his stay in exile. We need a President who will finally pardon Leonard Peltier. I don't see anyone on the campaign trail offering anything close to this.
- Chris Mansel
We need a President who believes in peace for the Palestinian people and who believes that the Israelis do engage in acts of terror. We need a President who believes in peace for the people of Tibet and a return of His Holiness the Dali lama to his homeland instead of his stay in exile. We need a President who will finally pardon Leonard Peltier. I don't see anyone on the campaign trail offering anything close to this.
- Chris Mansel
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Mind of Mansel: Blackwater
There are hammers in the wheel well this evening and as the road passing by underneath at a high rate of speed the swinging goes on. You don't have to be on the road to the airport in Baghdad to know that the situation is out of control. These days the gangs of america run through the daylit streets of another country heavily armed and funded by the occupying force shooting indiscriminately.
My short story J. R. and I in Iraq (posted on this blog as well as chrismansel.blogspot.com) tells the story of two correspondents gettng caught in the middle of a wave of gunfire on unarmed civilians by a private armed security force who might as well be named Blackwater. I wrote this story in December of 2006 and currently there is strong debate over just such an event having taken place. Who will handle the out of control gunmen of Blackwater? Who will stop the U.S. government that obviously has no problem with their tactics? The My Lai massacre didn't stop the Vietnam War, and neither will the secret bombing of Iran/Cambodia.
- Chris Mansel (The Mansel Report)
"...all the rockers on the roads and all the boots in the streets."
- James Joyce, Finnegans Wake
"Olympus is but the outside of the earth everywhere."
- Henry David Thoreau, Walden
My short story J. R. and I in Iraq (posted on this blog as well as chrismansel.blogspot.com) tells the story of two correspondents gettng caught in the middle of a wave of gunfire on unarmed civilians by a private armed security force who might as well be named Blackwater. I wrote this story in December of 2006 and currently there is strong debate over just such an event having taken place. Who will handle the out of control gunmen of Blackwater? Who will stop the U.S. government that obviously has no problem with their tactics? The My Lai massacre didn't stop the Vietnam War, and neither will the secret bombing of Iran/Cambodia.
- Chris Mansel (The Mansel Report)
"...all the rockers on the roads and all the boots in the streets."
- James Joyce, Finnegans Wake
"Olympus is but the outside of the earth everywhere."
- Henry David Thoreau, Walden
Monday, October 08, 2007
MIND OF MANSEL: End of the Bush Years
The expiration date for the cold hard truth of the Bush administration will be in the form of a small bag of mushrooms that descend from a cloud of well wishers in the press room. Whoever is the Press spokesman at the time will peel off their clothes and start ramming their hips into the C-SPAN cameras, champagne will flow into the hoof-like boots custom made in Germany for the more elite of the conservatives who wore through the Reagan years, their true blue blood still intact as well their bigotry not dismayed with the previous years of breakthroughs in the democratic racial divide.
Yes, the end of the Bush years will come suddenly and with great flourish as some will be sacrificed as the Bush library will be constructed no doubt somewhere in Dallas, Texas since the president plans to move there after he leaves office so he can guard his official papers with a team of lawyers not seen before since Ed Meese protected his collection of pornography in Circuit Court.
- Chris Mansel
(christophermansel@hotmail.com)
Yes, the end of the Bush years will come suddenly and with great flourish as some will be sacrificed as the Bush library will be constructed no doubt somewhere in Dallas, Texas since the president plans to move there after he leaves office so he can guard his official papers with a team of lawyers not seen before since Ed Meese protected his collection of pornography in Circuit Court.
- Chris Mansel
(christophermansel@hotmail.com)
Saturday, October 06, 2007
KATRINA WAS A TERRORIST ATTACK
THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES: DISSEMINATE FREELY.
REMEMBERING NEW ORLEANS
By Jack Random
Nearly four years after the attack on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and an unknown third target, there was a second terrorist attack and the conspiracy to cover up the truth was no less determined.
Katrina was a category three hurricane that missed New Orleans yet the devastation was complete. The lowlands of the Ninth Ward, Gentilly and St. Bernard Parrish were buried under a wall of water, hundreds died, hundreds more would never be counted, and tens of thousands were scattered across the land like third world refugees.
It was not the storm that buried New Orleans. It was not the hand of god or the wheel of fortune that sealed her fate. It was negligence, human negligence, intentional negligence at the highest levels of government.
What is the definition of a terrorist attack? If a man or an agency knows what will happen when an inevitable convergence of events occurs and not only fails to act but acts in a manner that will maximize the disaster, is it really any different than flying a passenger plane into a tower of civilians?
The Army Corps of Engineers knew what they were doing when they used inadequate funds to contract inadequate work to rebuild and reinforce the levees that stood between the poor black folk of New Orleans and a watery grave. Renowned for their genius around the world, the Corps ingeniously erected a façade that created an illusion of strength. The Corps knew it would topple when tested and the Corps knew it would be tested.
When a lonely meteorologist warned that Katrina could spell catastrophe the Corps did not sound the alarm. When there was still a chance at mass evacuation, the Corps stood down. The Corps had a job to do but that job was not to protect the poor of New Orleans; it was to guard their reputation as they skimmed funds from the levees, bridges and dams of America so they could build fortresses for international oil companies in Iraq.
The Army Corps of Engineers was hoping that Katrina would hit dead on at full force so that no one would notice or care that the levees were defective. They were counting on the president to attribute the massive destruction to an act of god and the hammer of inevitable fate. They were counting on every expression of empathy to be followed by a qualifier: There was nothing we could do.
They were not counting on day after day of suffering people pleading for help while the government’s representatives threw up their hands in ignorance. They were not counting on floating corpses and an endless parade of homeless people wading through toxic waters to the convention center or the Superdome where no help was waiting.
Before Katrina, not even the most venomous critic could have imagined an American leader so heartless, so indifferent, so out of touch with the common man that he failed to notice his people were dying.
We watched the events unfold, the slowness of federal response, the absence of the guard, the insensitivity of our president, the absolute lack of urgency in the face of disaster, and we knew it was a crime against human dignity that would endure the ages. The entire nation and much of the world witnessed in stark, vivid detail what it was to live in America poor and black.
We had a government that could run the river backwards rather than allow an unfortunate woman, white and brain dead, the dignity of a private and natural death but could not raise a hand to deliver food, water and medical supplies to the birthplace of jazz.
Katrina was a terrorist attack that ripped at the cover of class warfare. Like the targets of our bombs in foreign nations, the poor were mostly dark skinned and faceless. They were not a part of the American dream; they were a part of the American cesspool – or so they seemed to our privileged overlords.
The Corps of Engineers was right that New Orleans would be tested; New Orleans would be tested in Houston, Nashville, Austin, Chicago, Los Angeles, New York and Salt Lake City, Utah. The city of jazz would be tested from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine, from the Golden Gate to the shining beacon on a hill. New Orleans would be tested in every two-cent town with a television and a diner.
Every militant Islamist was pointing to CNN and saying: See how they treat their own – and they have oil too.
Yes, New Orleans is rich in oil. It possesses an abundant supply just off its marshy coast. It has so much oil that if it were a foreign nation and its Diaspora were refugees as the media proclaimed, New Orleans would be richer than the United Arab Emirates and it would have no need of our assistance.
New Orleans is rich in culture and irony – jazz and the blues. How ironic that its people were shipped to the four corners of the nation as immigrant Hispanics at substandard wages were hired for the clean up. The powers knew the citizens of New Orleans would insist on rebuilding their schools, hospitals and homes while the illegal immigrants would simply do as they were told. New Orleans would become a Disneyland, a new Mecca for corporate greed, a haven for casinos and high-rise hotels. There would be no room for the poor black folk who were the heart of the city of jazz.
New Orleans would never be the same but the powers were fools if they thought it would go down without a fight. They had unleashed an enduring heartache that would translate into words and music, a story that would be told for a thousand years.
Once there was a city whose citizens were a ragtag collection of slaves and semi-slaves, the misfits and miscreants of a nation whose ambition was larger than its conscience. Once there was a city where blacks, whites, and every shade of gray learned to live together in the harmony of jazz. Once there was a city where French and English were mixed in a steamy brew of Cajun and Creole and the dialects of the Louisiana bayou. Once there was a city that gave birth to the finest music and the most diverse culture the world has ever known. Once there was a city where the poor were not poor for they possessed that richness of spirit and culture and music and tolerance that was the envy of all others.
Once there was a city of jazz. No more.
Mourn for the people who lost their lives. Mourn for the people who lost their souls. Mourn for the people who lost their homes. Mourn for the people who will never return. Mourn for the people who will never stop mourning. Mourn for the people who never knew New Orleans before the storm.
Katrina was a terrorist attack, a conspiracy of indifference, the “shock and awe” campaign of a war on the poor.
Mourn for New Orleans, the most genuine and culturally rich city in the world, and take a solemn vow never to forget.
One year from Katrina do not forget that the Ninth Ward is still barren.
Two years from Katrina do not forget that New Orleans was once more than Mardi Gras and the French Quarters.
Three years from Katrina do not forget that the poor people of New Orleans are still poor but they no longer have the comfort of home.
Ten years from Katrina do not forget that New Orleans was buried in water by an act of man, not of god.
Twenty years from Katrina, remember that New Orleans was once a raw, thriving city where art and artists were born.
Thirty years from Katrina remember New Orleans and mourn.
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). HUNDREDS OF CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON THE WORLDWIDE WEB, INCLUDING THE ALBION MONITOR, PACIFIC FREE PRESS, BUZZLE.COM, COUNTERPUNCH AND DISSIDENT VOICE.
REMEMBERING NEW ORLEANS
By Jack Random
Nearly four years after the attack on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and an unknown third target, there was a second terrorist attack and the conspiracy to cover up the truth was no less determined.
Katrina was a category three hurricane that missed New Orleans yet the devastation was complete. The lowlands of the Ninth Ward, Gentilly and St. Bernard Parrish were buried under a wall of water, hundreds died, hundreds more would never be counted, and tens of thousands were scattered across the land like third world refugees.
It was not the storm that buried New Orleans. It was not the hand of god or the wheel of fortune that sealed her fate. It was negligence, human negligence, intentional negligence at the highest levels of government.
What is the definition of a terrorist attack? If a man or an agency knows what will happen when an inevitable convergence of events occurs and not only fails to act but acts in a manner that will maximize the disaster, is it really any different than flying a passenger plane into a tower of civilians?
The Army Corps of Engineers knew what they were doing when they used inadequate funds to contract inadequate work to rebuild and reinforce the levees that stood between the poor black folk of New Orleans and a watery grave. Renowned for their genius around the world, the Corps ingeniously erected a façade that created an illusion of strength. The Corps knew it would topple when tested and the Corps knew it would be tested.
When a lonely meteorologist warned that Katrina could spell catastrophe the Corps did not sound the alarm. When there was still a chance at mass evacuation, the Corps stood down. The Corps had a job to do but that job was not to protect the poor of New Orleans; it was to guard their reputation as they skimmed funds from the levees, bridges and dams of America so they could build fortresses for international oil companies in Iraq.
The Army Corps of Engineers was hoping that Katrina would hit dead on at full force so that no one would notice or care that the levees were defective. They were counting on the president to attribute the massive destruction to an act of god and the hammer of inevitable fate. They were counting on every expression of empathy to be followed by a qualifier: There was nothing we could do.
They were not counting on day after day of suffering people pleading for help while the government’s representatives threw up their hands in ignorance. They were not counting on floating corpses and an endless parade of homeless people wading through toxic waters to the convention center or the Superdome where no help was waiting.
Before Katrina, not even the most venomous critic could have imagined an American leader so heartless, so indifferent, so out of touch with the common man that he failed to notice his people were dying.
We watched the events unfold, the slowness of federal response, the absence of the guard, the insensitivity of our president, the absolute lack of urgency in the face of disaster, and we knew it was a crime against human dignity that would endure the ages. The entire nation and much of the world witnessed in stark, vivid detail what it was to live in America poor and black.
We had a government that could run the river backwards rather than allow an unfortunate woman, white and brain dead, the dignity of a private and natural death but could not raise a hand to deliver food, water and medical supplies to the birthplace of jazz.
Katrina was a terrorist attack that ripped at the cover of class warfare. Like the targets of our bombs in foreign nations, the poor were mostly dark skinned and faceless. They were not a part of the American dream; they were a part of the American cesspool – or so they seemed to our privileged overlords.
The Corps of Engineers was right that New Orleans would be tested; New Orleans would be tested in Houston, Nashville, Austin, Chicago, Los Angeles, New York and Salt Lake City, Utah. The city of jazz would be tested from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine, from the Golden Gate to the shining beacon on a hill. New Orleans would be tested in every two-cent town with a television and a diner.
Every militant Islamist was pointing to CNN and saying: See how they treat their own – and they have oil too.
Yes, New Orleans is rich in oil. It possesses an abundant supply just off its marshy coast. It has so much oil that if it were a foreign nation and its Diaspora were refugees as the media proclaimed, New Orleans would be richer than the United Arab Emirates and it would have no need of our assistance.
New Orleans is rich in culture and irony – jazz and the blues. How ironic that its people were shipped to the four corners of the nation as immigrant Hispanics at substandard wages were hired for the clean up. The powers knew the citizens of New Orleans would insist on rebuilding their schools, hospitals and homes while the illegal immigrants would simply do as they were told. New Orleans would become a Disneyland, a new Mecca for corporate greed, a haven for casinos and high-rise hotels. There would be no room for the poor black folk who were the heart of the city of jazz.
New Orleans would never be the same but the powers were fools if they thought it would go down without a fight. They had unleashed an enduring heartache that would translate into words and music, a story that would be told for a thousand years.
Once there was a city whose citizens were a ragtag collection of slaves and semi-slaves, the misfits and miscreants of a nation whose ambition was larger than its conscience. Once there was a city where blacks, whites, and every shade of gray learned to live together in the harmony of jazz. Once there was a city where French and English were mixed in a steamy brew of Cajun and Creole and the dialects of the Louisiana bayou. Once there was a city that gave birth to the finest music and the most diverse culture the world has ever known. Once there was a city where the poor were not poor for they possessed that richness of spirit and culture and music and tolerance that was the envy of all others.
Once there was a city of jazz. No more.
Mourn for the people who lost their lives. Mourn for the people who lost their souls. Mourn for the people who lost their homes. Mourn for the people who will never return. Mourn for the people who will never stop mourning. Mourn for the people who never knew New Orleans before the storm.
Katrina was a terrorist attack, a conspiracy of indifference, the “shock and awe” campaign of a war on the poor.
Mourn for New Orleans, the most genuine and culturally rich city in the world, and take a solemn vow never to forget.
One year from Katrina do not forget that the Ninth Ward is still barren.
Two years from Katrina do not forget that New Orleans was once more than Mardi Gras and the French Quarters.
Three years from Katrina do not forget that the poor people of New Orleans are still poor but they no longer have the comfort of home.
Ten years from Katrina do not forget that New Orleans was buried in water by an act of man, not of god.
Twenty years from Katrina, remember that New Orleans was once a raw, thriving city where art and artists were born.
Thirty years from Katrina remember New Orleans and mourn.
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). HUNDREDS OF CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON THE WORLDWIDE WEB, INCLUDING THE ALBION MONITOR, PACIFIC FREE PRESS, BUZZLE.COM, COUNTERPUNCH AND DISSIDENT VOICE.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Nowhere Is Here
How shrill turns the wind
When the rain doesn’t fall
When the weather turns again
Like shots down a crowded hall
Like bullets thru bread
Like sand in the atmosphere
Like screaming vets in their heads
When everywhere is nowhere here
Hospital bed turns to lightning rod
Shaking like a limbless tree
Like a worm struggling under sod
Stretching from you to me
Like children under the well
With drops falling thru the sand
Helicopters falling down thru hell
With angels dressed as armed men
Chorus:
Everywhere is nowhere
Everywhere is nowhere
And nowhere is here
There’s nothing left to fear
When nowhere is here
- Chris Mansel
When the rain doesn’t fall
When the weather turns again
Like shots down a crowded hall
Like bullets thru bread
Like sand in the atmosphere
Like screaming vets in their heads
When everywhere is nowhere here
Hospital bed turns to lightning rod
Shaking like a limbless tree
Like a worm struggling under sod
Stretching from you to me
Like children under the well
With drops falling thru the sand
Helicopters falling down thru hell
With angels dressed as armed men
Chorus:
Everywhere is nowhere
Everywhere is nowhere
And nowhere is here
There’s nothing left to fear
When nowhere is here
- Chris Mansel
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Mind of Mansel: Tribal Sufferings on American Highways
Bleak understandings as the country spirals off camera. The sermon hasn't been heard and the traffic camera that caught the beheading transferred the image to the hovering news helicopter by mistake and the family of the victim is now doing public service two mile markers down for smashing the front door of the station.
They found out by changing the channel moments after the news crew burst into their small apartment. Strange enough to be true, horrific.
Campaign donors disguised as pederasts are moving through the lobbies of the some of the finest hotels in our country. Their influence can be utilized by both parties and the controling interest is transferred through newsprint in passable spanish.
The kitchen staff of any Hilton Hotel on the east coast of america in the sixties and seventies could name for you any underage starlet who moved through the steam of vegetables and noodles to the arms of donors and politicians. It would always be on a reserved floor, the button you couldn't push because the elevator operator, a tired and jaded African-American who had seen it and heard it wouldn't allow you to under threat of subpoena or violence.
The largest expose of our times has still not been written. The dark paths cut across the streets, highways and yards of New Hampshire for the last fifty years in this time of information. One can imagine databases on every resident of New Hampshire auctioned off every four years for the price of first born. Places like Sugar Grove in West Virginia who listen to every phone call in America and every email and blog entry like this one house individuals that if they were to ever truly speak on the record would certianly be admitting to highs crimes against humanity.
The watch fiends of this new century are spoiled like jackels at a Revelation book signing in the Cambodian jungle. Fear emanates from these narrow passages and our childrens children will lie across the ditches of hell to keep the peace while the jackels nip at their heels. Our only hope is to move to the country and give them the cities.
- Chris Mansel
They found out by changing the channel moments after the news crew burst into their small apartment. Strange enough to be true, horrific.
Campaign donors disguised as pederasts are moving through the lobbies of the some of the finest hotels in our country. Their influence can be utilized by both parties and the controling interest is transferred through newsprint in passable spanish.
The kitchen staff of any Hilton Hotel on the east coast of america in the sixties and seventies could name for you any underage starlet who moved through the steam of vegetables and noodles to the arms of donors and politicians. It would always be on a reserved floor, the button you couldn't push because the elevator operator, a tired and jaded African-American who had seen it and heard it wouldn't allow you to under threat of subpoena or violence.
The largest expose of our times has still not been written. The dark paths cut across the streets, highways and yards of New Hampshire for the last fifty years in this time of information. One can imagine databases on every resident of New Hampshire auctioned off every four years for the price of first born. Places like Sugar Grove in West Virginia who listen to every phone call in America and every email and blog entry like this one house individuals that if they were to ever truly speak on the record would certianly be admitting to highs crimes against humanity.
The watch fiends of this new century are spoiled like jackels at a Revelation book signing in the Cambodian jungle. Fear emanates from these narrow passages and our childrens children will lie across the ditches of hell to keep the peace while the jackels nip at their heels. Our only hope is to move to the country and give them the cities.
- Chris Mansel
Mind of Mansel: In response to Jake in response to Random on Lou Dobbs
In response to Jake's letter I came across a letter of Hunter S. Thompson's to Charles Kuralt from March 1, 1965.
The letter appears in The Proud Highway: Saga Of A Desperate Southern Gentleman 1955-1967.
"I have a definite suspicion that most minds in this country's power structure view the poor as Mistah Kurtz in Heart of Darkness viewed the Congo natives: "Exterminate the brutes!" Which would not bother me so much were it not that I'm one of the poor."
I have said for years that Poverty Knows No Color. When you start thinking you are better than others, smarter than others you are reeling down a slippery slope of intestines that look errily familiar. The sharks swarm on the land and the blood in the water is coming from the pens that were used to sign bills into law during every administration from Washington to the current Bush. Today's consequences are tomorrow's convictions.
What to say about Mr. Dobbs, in a perfect world, the CNN scrawl would say, Mistah Dobbs...he dead.
- Chris Mansel
The letter appears in The Proud Highway: Saga Of A Desperate Southern Gentleman 1955-1967.
"I have a definite suspicion that most minds in this country's power structure view the poor as Mistah Kurtz in Heart of Darkness viewed the Congo natives: "Exterminate the brutes!" Which would not bother me so much were it not that I'm one of the poor."
I have said for years that Poverty Knows No Color. When you start thinking you are better than others, smarter than others you are reeling down a slippery slope of intestines that look errily familiar. The sharks swarm on the land and the blood in the water is coming from the pens that were used to sign bills into law during every administration from Washington to the current Bush. Today's consequences are tomorrow's convictions.
What to say about Mr. Dobbs, in a perfect world, the CNN scrawl would say, Mistah Dobbs...he dead.
- Chris Mansel
Monday, August 06, 2007
RE: Bush the Irrelevant and Other Concerns
Dear Mr. Random:
I read your worthy article, "Bush the Irrelevant: Alone in His Tower" (Dissident Voice, July 28th, 2007) so I am writing to you. A few comments:
"... if it were in the father's power to disown the presidency of the son, he would do so for the son has shamed the family and laid waste to the Bush legacy just as he has shamed the nation and its legacy in the world..."
---> And yet George Sr., apparently some of the others in the Bush family, and some of their business acquaintances have made a LOT more money thanks to his son's administration. If the son messed up such that they lost that money... ooh, THEN you'd probably see some criticism of Dubya that hurt!
And another, longer one:Like you, I despise this administration, but for another reason as well - a reason that you apparently are ignorant of. (I state this because you wrote, "... No, the Al Qaeda terrorists that killed Americans on 9/11 are still in the mountains of Afghanistan and Pakistan - our sometime ally."). Actually, it's HIGHLY doubtful that it was "Al Qaeda terrorists" behind those attacks. In actuality, the Bush administration higher-ups (Cheney is a very probable suspect), in collusion with top brass at the Pentagon, and probably certain elements of the Israeli government, were almost certainly behind the attacks of 9/11. Also, bin Laden is reportedly long dead.
I recommend you read David Ray Griffin's books, which are well-reasoned and encompass much of what happened without overwhelming the reader with details. A very good 'first step' is "The New Pearl Harbor - Disturbing Questions about the Bush Administration and 9/11 (Updated Edition with a new afterword)"; 2004- Olive Branch Press. ISBN 1-56656-552-9. It's calm, logical & doesn't exaggerate.
Also, his follow-up book, "The 9/ 11 Commission Report: Omissions and Distortions", "... provides excellent analysis of the commission's report, clearly demonstrating that the commission's account of 9/11 was written to clear the Pentagon, White House and Justice Department of any wrongdoing." (quoted from: www.cooperativeresearch.org/project.jsp?project=911_project)Oh, and www.cooperativeresearch.org (the very worthy site just above) likely has the most complete, fact-based 9/11 Timeline available anywhere. See: www.cooperativeresearch.org/project.jsp?project=911_project. Other interesting reads:
"9/11 Synthetic Terror - MADE IN USA" , by Webster G.Tarpley;
"Crossing the Rubicon: The Decline of the American Empire at the End of the Age of Oil ", by Catherine Austin Fitts (Foreword), Michael C. Ruppert; www.fromthewilderness.com/free/ww3/071204_final_fraud.shtml. www.911citizenswatch.org/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=336.
"The Final Fraud: 9/11 Commission closes its doors to the public; Cover-Up Complete" By Michael KaneWe must not forgot that horrific day. I now firmly believe that the attacks were at least somewhat orchestrated by the higher-ups in this Machiavellian administration, together with some in the Pentagon. Of course, not everyone in the administration nor in the Pentagon would have been involved. It appears that the prime suspects are:
* "Tricky Dick" Cheney, the incredibly greedy actual "President";
* Rumsfeld (who predicted the 3rd plane (missile?) attack on the Pentagon - remarkable clairvoyance from a guy who's been quite lacking in foresight when it comes to Iraq, etc.);
* Paul Wolfowitz (a true 'chicken hawk', warmonger, and seeming Israel-firster (Zionist), who is now - guess what? -back at AEI ...
* George H.W. Bush, who reportedly had a late-night discussion with Cheney in the White House on 9/10/2001; Just a coincidence??
* Air Force Generals Richard Myers & Ralph Eberhart; and probably others.
BTW, a hypothesis about 'Dubya' (in Tarpley's book, pp. 273-5): George W. Bush was almost certainly not involved in the planning, but may have avoided being assassinated {on the morning of 9/11, by some 'reporters' sent to 'interview' him} by acquiescing to the plot. Likely he was told what the planners felt he needed to know, and as a result he didn't look surprised in the Emma E. Booker Elementary School in Sarasota, Florida when he was told of the second plane hitting the WTC by WH Chief of Staff Card, and didn't panic at all (indeed, he hardly reacted at all, and even dawdled around, having a good chat with the people in attendance - after finishing reading about the pet goat!).
**On another front, some foreign nations' spy networks were possibly involved, to some extent. For instance, Israel's Mossad is highly suspect, Pakistan's Intelligence service is possible, and perhaps the UK's intelligence service was involved as well. Other countries - Russia, France, Germany, etc. - which attempted to warn us that something was up are seemingly innocent of involvement.
Well, I hope this email is informative for you. Please be careful out there... another 'false flag' terrorist attack (maybe for this summer) has been warned aboutby at least three well-known Americans. All the best...I'm fortunate that I now live abroad...
Peace & Justice, Ray Hrycko
I read your worthy article, "Bush the Irrelevant: Alone in His Tower" (Dissident Voice, July 28th, 2007) so I am writing to you. A few comments:
"... if it were in the father's power to disown the presidency of the son, he would do so for the son has shamed the family and laid waste to the Bush legacy just as he has shamed the nation and its legacy in the world..."
---> And yet George Sr., apparently some of the others in the Bush family, and some of their business acquaintances have made a LOT more money thanks to his son's administration. If the son messed up such that they lost that money... ooh, THEN you'd probably see some criticism of Dubya that hurt!
And another, longer one:Like you, I despise this administration, but for another reason as well - a reason that you apparently are ignorant of. (I state this because you wrote, "... No, the Al Qaeda terrorists that killed Americans on 9/11 are still in the mountains of Afghanistan and Pakistan - our sometime ally."). Actually, it's HIGHLY doubtful that it was "Al Qaeda terrorists" behind those attacks. In actuality, the Bush administration higher-ups (Cheney is a very probable suspect), in collusion with top brass at the Pentagon, and probably certain elements of the Israeli government, were almost certainly behind the attacks of 9/11. Also, bin Laden is reportedly long dead.
I recommend you read David Ray Griffin's books, which are well-reasoned and encompass much of what happened without overwhelming the reader with details. A very good 'first step' is "The New Pearl Harbor - Disturbing Questions about the Bush Administration and 9/11 (Updated Edition with a new afterword)"; 2004- Olive Branch Press. ISBN 1-56656-552-9. It's calm, logical & doesn't exaggerate.
Also, his follow-up book, "The 9/ 11 Commission Report: Omissions and Distortions", "... provides excellent analysis of the commission's report, clearly demonstrating that the commission's account of 9/11 was written to clear the Pentagon, White House and Justice Department of any wrongdoing." (quoted from: www.cooperativeresearch.org/project.jsp?project=911_project)Oh, and www.cooperativeresearch.org (the very worthy site just above) likely has the most complete, fact-based 9/11 Timeline available anywhere. See: www.cooperativeresearch.org/project.jsp?project=911_project. Other interesting reads:
"9/11 Synthetic Terror - MADE IN USA" , by Webster G.Tarpley;
"Crossing the Rubicon: The Decline of the American Empire at the End of the Age of Oil ", by Catherine Austin Fitts (Foreword), Michael C. Ruppert; www.fromthewilderness.com/free/ww3/071204_final_fraud.shtml. www.911citizenswatch.org/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=336.
"The Final Fraud: 9/11 Commission closes its doors to the public; Cover-Up Complete" By Michael KaneWe must not forgot that horrific day. I now firmly believe that the attacks were at least somewhat orchestrated by the higher-ups in this Machiavellian administration, together with some in the Pentagon. Of course, not everyone in the administration nor in the Pentagon would have been involved. It appears that the prime suspects are:
* "Tricky Dick" Cheney, the incredibly greedy actual "President";
* Rumsfeld (who predicted the 3rd plane (missile?) attack on the Pentagon - remarkable clairvoyance from a guy who's been quite lacking in foresight when it comes to Iraq, etc.);
* Paul Wolfowitz (a true 'chicken hawk', warmonger, and seeming Israel-firster (Zionist), who is now - guess what? -back at AEI ...
* George H.W. Bush, who reportedly had a late-night discussion with Cheney in the White House on 9/10/2001; Just a coincidence??
* Air Force Generals Richard Myers & Ralph Eberhart; and probably others.
BTW, a hypothesis about 'Dubya' (in Tarpley's book, pp. 273-5): George W. Bush was almost certainly not involved in the planning, but may have avoided being assassinated {on the morning of 9/11, by some 'reporters' sent to 'interview' him} by acquiescing to the plot. Likely he was told what the planners felt he needed to know, and as a result he didn't look surprised in the Emma E. Booker Elementary School in Sarasota, Florida when he was told of the second plane hitting the WTC by WH Chief of Staff Card, and didn't panic at all (indeed, he hardly reacted at all, and even dawdled around, having a good chat with the people in attendance - after finishing reading about the pet goat!).
**On another front, some foreign nations' spy networks were possibly involved, to some extent. For instance, Israel's Mossad is highly suspect, Pakistan's Intelligence service is possible, and perhaps the UK's intelligence service was involved as well. Other countries - Russia, France, Germany, etc. - which attempted to warn us that something was up are seemingly innocent of involvement.
Well, I hope this email is informative for you. Please be careful out there... another 'false flag' terrorist attack (maybe for this summer) has been warned aboutby at least three well-known Americans. All the best...I'm fortunate that I now live abroad...
Peace & Justice, Ray Hrycko
Thursday, August 02, 2007
The Beatlicks: A Short Story by Joe Speer
[A new short story and we just finished a short film - 11 minutes - strong imagry and great soundtrack including wZ when the flute meets the sea - peace, Joe]
Setting Sun
JJ drove toward the setting sun when he passed a stalled car. He pulled over to the side of the road and backed up to where a man was standing. JJ opened the door and the man approached.
“I’m glad you stopped," Algernon said. "My car went kaput. I stepped on the gas but it didn’t do any good so I pulled off the road."
JJ fixed a broken fuel line and gave Algernon a thumbs up. He walked away as Algernon shouted.
“Hey, where are you going? How much do I owe you?”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Listen, I don’t live far from here. Why don’t you stop by for a visit?”
“Sounds good,” JJ said.
JJ followed Algernon off onto a dirt road back to a remote homestead.
On the porch sat an old man in a rocking chair with overalls tucked into his cowboy boots. As the two men approached the old house, Algernon clued JJ, “That’s my grandfather, Mr. Lucero. He doesn’t see very well. He likes to sit out on the porch and wait for the sunset. We have to describe it to him. He likes to tell stories about the old days on the railroad.” Introductions were made and Algernon slipped off to gather refreshments as JJ found a chair near the old man.
“How’s the sun looking now?” Mr. Lucero asked.
“The sky looks like a well used coloring book,” JJ said.
“I dreamed about my brother Cash last night," Mr Lucero said. "He spent a lot of time in and out of jail with one hitch of several years in the pen. He met an old man in the lockup that was a whiz at cards. He liked my brother and taught him all his card tricks. They spent hours everyday handling cards. My brother became quite proficient, quick and deft.
“When Cash got out he spent all his time at the card table. And he won most of the time. He learned about marked decks and got a little group of gamblers together. They worked the camps along the railroad or the wheatfields, or where ever a lot of men with money were gathered. They spread out, each one getting into a different card game. They won most of the time. Then late at night they would meet at a hotel room and split the take.
“Cash would disappear for long periods of time then suddenly turn up and leech off Mother. He was loaded with money but never gave us anything. Instead he’d get drunk and buy his companionship. After his last binge he hung around the house for days and got on Mother’s nerves.
“He tried to come up with some quick claim deed so he could sell her property. When I found out about it I ran him off. He finally died passed out on the tracks when a train ran over him in the dark. I felt guilty about it for a long time. Maybe if we had tried to reabilitate him. How’s the sun now?” Grandpa asked. Algernon responded out of habit as he returned to the porch with cold Tecate and lime.
“It’s half gone, below the horizon, Grandpa.”
“Your grandfather told me a story about his brother,” JJ said. “I have a brother who is a baseball umpire. He got me interested in baseball because he was always talking about it. I went to a few games with him and just watched. Then I started to practice by myself. I collected a pile of rocks and laid out a playing field in the empty lot next to our house. I had a cracked baseball bat, a castoff from the Little Leaguers. I tossed rocks up in the air and tried to hit them over the far fence. It was frustrating at first because I would swing and miss. With daily practice I got better. People saw me in my imaginary games and called me “rockhead".
“I had two imaginary teams with some of the best players that ever lived on my lineup. There was Ty Cobb and Willie Mays. I got to where I could hit a rock over the fence almost every time. I could also hit the rock in different directions, like down the right field line. Mother was the only person who understood my devotion to these imaginary games. She watched me from the window sometimes. She never interrupted me while I was playing a game. My team won most of the time and I would come inside sweating and smiling. Mother smiled, too.
“I went with my brother once to a pickup game. They came up one man short and asked me to fill in. I told them I hadn’t played a real game before. But they didn’t care. Told me to come on and play. Fill out the roster.
“My brother was behind the plate and called me out on strikes my first time up. I came to bat in the bottom of the ninth. We were behind by two runs. There were two outs and two on when I stepped into the batter’s box. I felt a new pressure that I had not experienced hitting rocks. My teammates were depending on me. The count was three and two when the pitcher served me up a high fast ball. I saw a rock falling through the air. I saw the picket fence in the backyard and thought about my imaginary teammates. I concentrated every muscle on the point where the bat met the ball over home plate and sent it with great force over the left fielder’s head. They told me later that my home run had set a record, a real tape job. When Mother heard about it she just smiled and nodded. I quit hitting rocks after that game. On that one showing I had an offer to try out for another team. But I felt my fantasies had been realized and I was free to pursue other interests.”
“Where’s the sun now,” Grandpa asked?
"Gone down," JJ said. "The lightshow is over."
"You can sleep here," Algernon said. "We have an extra room."
"Sounds good."
We all slept soundly.
Joe Speer
Setting Sun
JJ drove toward the setting sun when he passed a stalled car. He pulled over to the side of the road and backed up to where a man was standing. JJ opened the door and the man approached.
“I’m glad you stopped," Algernon said. "My car went kaput. I stepped on the gas but it didn’t do any good so I pulled off the road."
JJ fixed a broken fuel line and gave Algernon a thumbs up. He walked away as Algernon shouted.
“Hey, where are you going? How much do I owe you?”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Listen, I don’t live far from here. Why don’t you stop by for a visit?”
“Sounds good,” JJ said.
JJ followed Algernon off onto a dirt road back to a remote homestead.
On the porch sat an old man in a rocking chair with overalls tucked into his cowboy boots. As the two men approached the old house, Algernon clued JJ, “That’s my grandfather, Mr. Lucero. He doesn’t see very well. He likes to sit out on the porch and wait for the sunset. We have to describe it to him. He likes to tell stories about the old days on the railroad.” Introductions were made and Algernon slipped off to gather refreshments as JJ found a chair near the old man.
“How’s the sun looking now?” Mr. Lucero asked.
“The sky looks like a well used coloring book,” JJ said.
“I dreamed about my brother Cash last night," Mr Lucero said. "He spent a lot of time in and out of jail with one hitch of several years in the pen. He met an old man in the lockup that was a whiz at cards. He liked my brother and taught him all his card tricks. They spent hours everyday handling cards. My brother became quite proficient, quick and deft.
“When Cash got out he spent all his time at the card table. And he won most of the time. He learned about marked decks and got a little group of gamblers together. They worked the camps along the railroad or the wheatfields, or where ever a lot of men with money were gathered. They spread out, each one getting into a different card game. They won most of the time. Then late at night they would meet at a hotel room and split the take.
“Cash would disappear for long periods of time then suddenly turn up and leech off Mother. He was loaded with money but never gave us anything. Instead he’d get drunk and buy his companionship. After his last binge he hung around the house for days and got on Mother’s nerves.
“He tried to come up with some quick claim deed so he could sell her property. When I found out about it I ran him off. He finally died passed out on the tracks when a train ran over him in the dark. I felt guilty about it for a long time. Maybe if we had tried to reabilitate him. How’s the sun now?” Grandpa asked. Algernon responded out of habit as he returned to the porch with cold Tecate and lime.
“It’s half gone, below the horizon, Grandpa.”
“Your grandfather told me a story about his brother,” JJ said. “I have a brother who is a baseball umpire. He got me interested in baseball because he was always talking about it. I went to a few games with him and just watched. Then I started to practice by myself. I collected a pile of rocks and laid out a playing field in the empty lot next to our house. I had a cracked baseball bat, a castoff from the Little Leaguers. I tossed rocks up in the air and tried to hit them over the far fence. It was frustrating at first because I would swing and miss. With daily practice I got better. People saw me in my imaginary games and called me “rockhead".
“I had two imaginary teams with some of the best players that ever lived on my lineup. There was Ty Cobb and Willie Mays. I got to where I could hit a rock over the fence almost every time. I could also hit the rock in different directions, like down the right field line. Mother was the only person who understood my devotion to these imaginary games. She watched me from the window sometimes. She never interrupted me while I was playing a game. My team won most of the time and I would come inside sweating and smiling. Mother smiled, too.
“I went with my brother once to a pickup game. They came up one man short and asked me to fill in. I told them I hadn’t played a real game before. But they didn’t care. Told me to come on and play. Fill out the roster.
“My brother was behind the plate and called me out on strikes my first time up. I came to bat in the bottom of the ninth. We were behind by two runs. There were two outs and two on when I stepped into the batter’s box. I felt a new pressure that I had not experienced hitting rocks. My teammates were depending on me. The count was three and two when the pitcher served me up a high fast ball. I saw a rock falling through the air. I saw the picket fence in the backyard and thought about my imaginary teammates. I concentrated every muscle on the point where the bat met the ball over home plate and sent it with great force over the left fielder’s head. They told me later that my home run had set a record, a real tape job. When Mother heard about it she just smiled and nodded. I quit hitting rocks after that game. On that one showing I had an offer to try out for another team. But I felt my fantasies had been realized and I was free to pursue other interests.”
“Where’s the sun now,” Grandpa asked?
"Gone down," JJ said. "The lightshow is over."
"You can sleep here," Algernon said. "We have an extra room."
"Sounds good."
We all slept soundly.
Joe Speer
Monday, July 23, 2007
Jake's Word: Deport Dobbs
[RE: Jazzman Chronicle: Deport Lou Dobbs -- Why CNN is Worse than Fox]
Another timely, important piece. We're all sick of Lou Dobbs, for any number of reasons, but primarily because he won't leave the immigration issue alone, or even give other, equally important issues the same air time.
Something else I've noticed in the news generally is that where once politicians and media (is there any difference?) once spoke of the poor, now they speak of the middle class. When John Edwards recently spent a day or two talking about the poor FOX News promptly asked the question that was on the mind of every conservative in the county - Is discussion of issues regarding the poor socialist? By labeling any concern for the poor as socialist they dismissed the poor from the agenda entirely. The poor were already of little concern because most of them don't vote, those that do vote are divided, and none of them contribute significant amounts of money to political campaigns. Welcome back to the gilded age when things were right with America. Corporations and their ultra-wealthy owners ran the government, the poor had no rights and certainly no assistance from the government, and all good Americans were supposed to get rich or die trying. In light of all this it's important to recognize the new poor, namely, the middle class. It's PC to lament the fate of the middle class, but this is only the corporate media's way of bidding them a fond farewell while assuaging their own consciences. In a world where wealth is the only, true moral value, those with the most wealth are the noblest citizens. Those with little or no wealth are a weight to the system and should be discarded from the concerns of the nation, and too bad they can't all be deported for failing to succeed.
Another timely, important piece. We're all sick of Lou Dobbs, for any number of reasons, but primarily because he won't leave the immigration issue alone, or even give other, equally important issues the same air time.
Something else I've noticed in the news generally is that where once politicians and media (is there any difference?) once spoke of the poor, now they speak of the middle class. When John Edwards recently spent a day or two talking about the poor FOX News promptly asked the question that was on the mind of every conservative in the county - Is discussion of issues regarding the poor socialist? By labeling any concern for the poor as socialist they dismissed the poor from the agenda entirely. The poor were already of little concern because most of them don't vote, those that do vote are divided, and none of them contribute significant amounts of money to political campaigns. Welcome back to the gilded age when things were right with America. Corporations and their ultra-wealthy owners ran the government, the poor had no rights and certainly no assistance from the government, and all good Americans were supposed to get rich or die trying. In light of all this it's important to recognize the new poor, namely, the middle class. It's PC to lament the fate of the middle class, but this is only the corporate media's way of bidding them a fond farewell while assuaging their own consciences. In a world where wealth is the only, true moral value, those with the most wealth are the noblest citizens. Those with little or no wealth are a weight to the system and should be discarded from the concerns of the nation, and too bad they can't all be deported for failing to succeed.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Mind of Mansel: Burn the Carcass at Half-Mast
As I. Lewis Scooter Libby's plane dips its wing in triumph as it leaves american waters and heads into the darkness towards havana, the nation can rest well and awaken to celebrate the nation's holiday this fourth of July and know that the stable environment once enjoyed in the nation's capitol has been wretched onto the floor of a DC-10 as storm clouds gather at 5,000 feet.
Personal power unchecked in the Nixon administration and fueled by the confusion and wrath of a bitter jungle battle in Vietnam sent plumbers to jail, testimony to the floor of the house, once determined and clear headed journalists to the parking garages of the collected unconscious of an american public that now shrieks at staffers for more oily residue over their person as they await not a better tee time but a better table at the hanging.
Libby now downing a few drinks and stroking the side of his laptop and composing emails to the editor of the Washington Times shrugs off a call from Fred Dalton Thompson who wants him to consult on his campaign of dirty tricks before it has officially kicked in. Thompson said, "Surely, Scooter, surely you gotta know a few Puerto Ricans who slobbered over Bill in a steak house john somewhere in Virginia." Scruples run deep for Scooter who enjoys connections straight up the biker chain to Dick Cheney and down to Rupert Murdoch.
- Chris Mansel
Personal power unchecked in the Nixon administration and fueled by the confusion and wrath of a bitter jungle battle in Vietnam sent plumbers to jail, testimony to the floor of the house, once determined and clear headed journalists to the parking garages of the collected unconscious of an american public that now shrieks at staffers for more oily residue over their person as they await not a better tee time but a better table at the hanging.
Libby now downing a few drinks and stroking the side of his laptop and composing emails to the editor of the Washington Times shrugs off a call from Fred Dalton Thompson who wants him to consult on his campaign of dirty tricks before it has officially kicked in. Thompson said, "Surely, Scooter, surely you gotta know a few Puerto Ricans who slobbered over Bill in a steak house john somewhere in Virginia." Scruples run deep for Scooter who enjoys connections straight up the biker chain to Dick Cheney and down to Rupert Murdoch.
- Chris Mansel
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Mind of Mansel: Obituaries In The Passing Lane
How long have I been dead? You could theorize that I was never born. I was born after the Tet offensive in Vietnam, during the protests against the war in Vietnam, in a time of assainations, and during this time we were supplying weapons and training the very countries we would fight later in the so-called global war on terror. Has my generation had a chance to grow in a time of peace? If you think there has been any extended time of peace at all during the time of the late sixties till present day war in Iraq then you are sadly naive and it is that kind of naive voter who throws america into the line of fire.
Turn your back on Afghanistan and you process the executions of american soldiers in iraq at an alarming rate. To try and outlast, to try and kill off an idea, an idea based on religion, has never worked nor will it ever work. To surround yourself with the same kind of fervor you are fighting against sends the signal of imminent disaster.
- Chris Mansel
Turn your back on Afghanistan and you process the executions of american soldiers in iraq at an alarming rate. To try and outlast, to try and kill off an idea, an idea based on religion, has never worked nor will it ever work. To surround yourself with the same kind of fervor you are fighting against sends the signal of imminent disaster.
- Chris Mansel
Mind of Mansel: American I.E.D.'s
Burn the wheel and roll it over the graves, exhaust the I.E.D.'s but wait is this american soil? How far into the future can this be? How far off? Would the N.R.A. arm themselves against their own? Would they seek the resources of Mexico in a state of crisis?
What brought terror to our shores in 2001? As Noam Chomsky says, read the public record. The public record is scary enough, like any theory built on video evidence the rest isn't too difficult to amass. Sure you'll be called a bunch of scary names and maybe even driven off to an abandoned warehouse and shot full of something you couldn't even pronounce even if you were a registered Republican (but wait some of them don't believe the cover story) but it's ok, really it is, you're not alone.
But like I asked at the beginning: how far off are I.E.D.'s from the american shores? When was the last time you read your Civil Rights history? Seriously, know your history. IT MIGHT DO YOU SOME GOOD.
- Chris Mansel
They made a wasteland and called it peace.
- Tacitus
What brought terror to our shores in 2001? As Noam Chomsky says, read the public record. The public record is scary enough, like any theory built on video evidence the rest isn't too difficult to amass. Sure you'll be called a bunch of scary names and maybe even driven off to an abandoned warehouse and shot full of something you couldn't even pronounce even if you were a registered Republican (but wait some of them don't believe the cover story) but it's ok, really it is, you're not alone.
But like I asked at the beginning: how far off are I.E.D.'s from the american shores? When was the last time you read your Civil Rights history? Seriously, know your history. IT MIGHT DO YOU SOME GOOD.
- Chris Mansel
They made a wasteland and called it peace.
- Tacitus
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