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.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
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.
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