Olympics London 2012 ; British Petroleum Sponsors Torture Pollution Again!

Sailing West is a bastard at this time of the year. My thinking was to get far enough out from the straits of Hormuz so I could get a straight run at the Suez canal but I had to give up and let the wind take me more or less Southwest. After a while it got more easy. The Galway Whooker behaved well and we managed alright on just the mainsail. Hit a few squalls not bad for the monsoons. So we have now reached the Arabian Sea The Arabian Sea's surface area is 1,491,130 sq miles and its width 1,490. The biggest river flowing into it is the Indus River. It has two important parts the Gulf of Aden in the southwest, connecting with the Red Sea and the Gulf of Oman to the northwest, connecting it with the Persian Gulf. 




Countries with coastlines on the this Sea are Somalia, Djibouti, Yemen, Oman, Iran, Pakistan, India and the Maldives. The larges cities on the Arabian Sea coast include Karachi, Gwadar, Pasni, Ormara, Aden, Muscat, Mumbai, Mangalore, Kochi, Keti Bandar, Salalah and Duqm. Aden a seaport city in Yemen is now our immediate destination, located on the eastern approach to the Red Sea. Its population is about a million people. Aden's ancient, natural harbour lies in the crater of a dormant volcano which now forms a peninsula, joined to the mainland by a low isthmus.The modern harbour is on the other side of the peninsula.


Aden's history is quite similar with Ireland's relationship with the British Empire in many respects. It used to be the capital of the People's Democratic Republic of Yemen ,until unification with the Yemen Arab Republic.The city was declared a free trade zone and the city gives its name to the Gulf of Aden. A legend of Yemen states that Aden is as old as human history. Some believe Cain and Abel are buried in the city.The port's convenient position on the sea route between India and Europe made Aden desirable to the British who conducted bloody warfare to possess it at various times. 




Sultan Muhsin bin Fadl of the nearby state of Lahej was forced to cede 75 sq. miles including Aden to the British. On 19 January 1839. The British East India Company landed Marines at Aden to occupy the territory. The port equidistant from the Suez Canal, Bombay and Zanzibar, were all important British occupied territories. Aden had been a way-station for seamen in the old world. Supplies were replenished and in the 19th century a place to to replenish coal and boiler water.Aden remained under British bloody control until 1967. 




Today Aden is dominated by an oil refinery built by British Petroleum a major sponsor of the Olympic Games London 2012. Today BP Aden tugs' jetties are complete with swimming pool and air conditioned bar. A revoution against British rule known as the Aden Emergency began with a grenade attack by the National Liberation Front (NLF), against the British High Commissioner on 10 December 1963, killing one person and a "state of emergency" was declared. In 1964, Britain was forced to announce its intention to grant independence but that the British military would remain there. 




In January 1967, there were mass sectarian riots, inflamed by the British with their usual divide and conquer strategy, which like Occupied Ireland served as an excuse to keep its forces there. During this time there were many attacks on British troops culminating in the destruction of a DC3 plane in the air with no survivors. On 30 November 1967 the British finally pulled out, leaving Aden with royal marines, being the first British troops to occupy Aden in 1839 and the last to leave. The bombing attack on destroyer USS Cole took place in Aden on 12 October 2000. In 2007 with growing resentment and old tribal wounds left by British colonial policies, led to the secessionist South Yemen Movement, a mainly underground leadership of socialists, Islamists, desiring a return to the People's Democratic Republic of Yemen.


Arriving in Aden at night, after being so long at sea has been a shock. There were glimpses of minarets and Islamic architecture. The locals were friendly enough. One of them, who spoke good English pointed us up to a group of exotic rooms to rent. I'm looking forward after the boat to a nice big bed and wouldn't mind being on my own but Olive and Pui are up for it, so I feel like I have to entertain them...they keep me awake and they start groping me. It can be a drag but I love it man. Waking up a few hours later in crazy places, miles and miles of desert as a  backdrop, its hot but nice and dry.


Another joint is produced and everybody is giggly. This hash we just got at the port is the very best Red Leb. This is a spacious bedroom on the second floor. Soft lighting, Indian bed-sheets, Moroccan cushions, joss sticks, standard hippy décor, but there were some classier, expensive-looking touches too, deep sofas. Swirling, writhing like gypsies on a beach, twisting, gyrating on the bed and floor, the sensual waves keep rolling in, we surrender and immerse ourselves in the mysteries of the human flesh. 






London 2012, Olympics 2012, London Olympics 2012, 2012, Olympics, Olympic, London Olympics

Breaking News : Olympic Terror Causes HIgh So Evacuation of London 2012

Breaking News : Olympic Terror Causes HIgh So Evacuation of London 2012

 international | crime and justice | news report  Monday May 21, 2012 09:00 by BrianClarkeNUJ - AllVoices 

British Reneging on "Fear Process" in Ireland

It has been revealed that dummy runs by para-bombers at London 2012, have been successful in attempts to smuggle explosive devices and bombs into the Olympic site in Stratford the centrepiece Olympic stadium, velodrome and swimming pool.

Olympic Rings

It has been revealed that dummy runs by para-bombers at London 2012, have been successful in attempts to smuggle explosive devices and bombs into the Olympic site in Stratford the centrepiece Olympic stadium, velodrome and swimming pool. This underlines growing concerns over a dirty bomb that may wipe out millions of Londoners security at the Olympic games. The security level of threat at the Olympic in London is so high, that all of the Army’s explosive search dogs. including those in Afghanistan are being recalled to try boost totally inadequate security back in London.


One security expert off the record, said: “The issue of explosive search dogs is crucial, they are the tools that will find the bombs, but we don’t have enough of them. We only have around 30 and they can only work for 30 to 40 minutes before they get distracted or bored. From what I understand there will soon be virtually none left in Afghanistan they will all be here.”


The British army and non-specific armed force personnel working long shifts will be used to search members of the public entering the Olympic in a very intimate way in some instances including the anus and all body orifices. There are simply not enough people recruited to assist private security outfits because of the high threat level and the unhygienic nature of the work.


Many wealthier Londoners and High Society are giving London 2012 Olympics a miss and are moving to their holiday homes in places like Phuket, which they normally use during the British winters, because of the severe threat level. Indeed many of Boris Jonson's friends have already moved with much chatter below the radar of an impending apocalypse.


Aside from the mass produced underwear bombs being manufactured in Yemen for London 2012 by Al Qaida the main concern is a dirty bomb which aside from being possibly nuclear will quite likely be contain the Avian flu. British police may shoot members of the public to maintain order in the event of a "dirty bomb." British police have already tested successfully with shoot to kill experiments carried out on the public in British Occupied Ireland where the ensuing "Fear Process" gas created a lull in the fighting.


A recent Police Federation conference another of which is currently happening in Britain was told that there so few personnel trained to deal with an Olympic chemical, biological, nuclear or radiological attack on London 2012 that they would have to resort to "very unsavoury but necessary" population control for the games.


Sources within the organisation said it was evident that police could have to resort to firearms to stop contamination being spread by fleeing victims at events Like the Olympics in London 2012. The government has been negligent in explaining to Londoner how important it would be to keep the public cordoned off after such an atrocity at the Olympics," a spokesperson said.


"This is not about creating mass hysteria,this is about the opposite. The public has a right to know.The natural reaction from the public caught up in such an incident will be to get as far away from the scene as possible. This could, of course, only extend the problem." the spokesperson continued, adding, "We will be the ones who would have to carry out that containment and we would be the ones held responsible for our actions - whatever those may be."


Asked about officers firing on civilians, the reply was: "It’s an option the government is going to have to consider. We haven’t got enough cops trained to deal with full-scale containment and it’s putting everyone at risk." However the British Home Office continues to deny that police would have powers to shoot the public at the Olympics to cordon the Olympics of a chemical, biological, nuclear or radiological strike attack.
"Police have the right to detain people if they present a risk to the public, there are no circumstances in which police could operate some kind of shoot to kill policy under the law." However sources close to the London Lord Mayor reveal that Boris fears, that anymore revelations will create panic so he is keeping a traditional stiff upper lip for the 2012 Olympics.


A further source of concern which are fueling the concerns is that the British Viceroy in Occupied Ireland Owen Paterson revoked the licences of several Irish political prisoners who were released under the terms of the Irish peace process. In one instance, Irish republican Marian Price has now been interned in solitary confinement without trial for over a year.


The decision was surrounded in controversy being particularly striking in that on the same day a Judge released her on bail in May 2011, Paterson ordered her returned her to prison. There are other due process issues in relation to the case and many others, not least the fact she was given a pardon under the Royal Prerogative of Mercy.


The NIO claims this document only related to Marian Price’s fixed term and not life sentence for which a licence applied. Her family contest that the pardon related to both, and hence believe that the NIO had no licence to revoke, all of the ingredients of the British reneging on the "Fear Process," in Ireland that resulted many previous bombings of London.


London 2012, Olymp[ics 2012, Olympic, United Kingdom; War on Terror, biological attack, britain, dirtybomb, police, wmd, bird flu, pandemic, olympics, olympic, london, human rights, ireland, london olympics, 2012, olympic games, london2012, 2012 olympics, London 2012, Olympics 2012, London Olympics 2012

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Always Look On The Bright Side of Life - Video

London Olympics : Protesting Galway Whooker to Ram it Up the Thames

 international | rights and freedoms | opinion/analysis  Thursday May 17, 2012 10:14 by BrianClarkeNUJ - AllVoices 

Useta Luv Her

I was over on Richards’s boat for the first time last night. He had a some people for dinner who are not my sort, stockbrokers, bankers with their ugly loud mouthed wives. Right enough they know a few good tax fiddles but essentially they are boring bastards. I look at their wives and no wonder I want a different one every day just like I can't imagine having to drive a bus everyday again through rush hour?

LONDON HUMAN RIGHTS BRITISH OCCUPIED IRELAND

I was over on Richards’s boat for the first time last night. He had a some people for dinner who are not my sort, stockbrokers, bankers with their ugly loud mouthed wives. Right enough they know a few good tax fiddles but essentially they are boring bastards. I look at their wives and no wonder I want a different one every day just like I can't imagine having to drive a bus everyday again through rush hour? Feck that for a for a game of soldiers. I can’t even think about that sort of work without a shiver going down my spine. Imagine being a poor barsteward stuck in some factory or mucking around a building site in wellies? Not sure I would last long in an office either. I'm amazed more people don’t go to lunch and never come back. How do they all keep getting up in the morning or even stay in bed with them same wives? Must be hungry feckers to get them rambling into their bathrooms, to look at their soulless selves in the mirror every morning. So today's the day, as Richard's world bank officials wing their way to Washington to catch up on the latest tax fiddle.

Today I've decided to have all the sails hoisted with full of wind. I could feel that way myself as we cut loose from the stale hangover of last night's decadent dinner. I got an opportunity to drop the bombshell to Richard, about his proposed protest visit up the Thames to London for the Olympics. Besides right now I feel like I could happily sail off into another dimension. Maybe discover a whole new world on the way to London, devoid of all these selfish wankers in the extreme. Perhaps I’d soon be lonely I suppose but it beats hangin around growing stale and vegetating. On the way to London, we'll keep sailing around all these Indonesian islands and see what comes to mind along the way.

People regularly ask me about a sailing destination. Have you any idea where you are going Bernie, I'm asked? WelI i give them an auld grin but to tell the truth I haven’t a feckin clue and frankly I know feck all about navigation either. Sextant no, sex yes!. All the fiddly stuff I leave to Olive. She gives me a compass head and I steer. She has an instinct, some people always seem to know exactly where they are. The Indonesians got around, hopping from Island to island, within sight of land almost all the time. Bloody amazing how they found their way across the Pacific on a few shells and twigs.Personally, I don’t know where I am most of the time. Wind, water, tide-tables, dates, headings, wind speed, haven't a clue and neither do I give a toss. A day at a time each one's a bonus. So the sail fills, the mast bends, I send Richard below deck while Olive and I fly across the ocean. One hand on the helm Olive in her harness tethered short enough to a jackstay, to prevent her falling overboard, while I rip her rigging off, oil her sterngland and ram it up her forecastle. Jaysus, it feels good with the wind and spray on our face and her arse drippin sea-water.

Later Richard and I were chattin about the sixties in London, John Lennon, the Beatles, the Rollingstones, the Who and we wonder how the world has morphed back into squares somehow. Everyone was either scooting off to the South coast or giving peace a chance with John. We both always loved watching sailboats and the freedom of the ocean, so I suppose that's why we both ended up with boats and why this boy kept busy chasing different tail every day. Feckin paradise, nothing to do but watch the sail billow and give the ould rudder a nudge every now and then. Gives me a chance to think about Olive's arse again. It’s not just about sex though, there's somethin spiritual about the whole thing. I leave Richard in charge and I head for a berth below to a sleep, listening to the sound of reggae music drift across the water.

Hallo says I, nice mornin for something. She smiles a lovely Philipinne smile and I want to phuk her again but she just stands there looking at the boat or more specifically the mainsail weighing about 150 pounds, more wet. "Think you could get it up there," she says pointing up the mainmast. "Sure, I say, why?" "I need a trimmer," she says. "Ach put the kettle on, I'm famished I say." "Morning Richard," as I meet him. "I don' want to go to London." he says, " I don’t think I like England anymore. Not even for a visit." Shut up Richard we discussed it alreadyor would you prefer discuss it with your wife ?" "Please No ! please I beg you, she will take me for everything, a bar girl everyday for the rest of my life is cheaper than that. " he said. "Get on with it, Olive and I are going down below for some breakfast." Well I must be honest. I’m really thinking, I’d bloody well like to ride Olive again. Get her tiny little white skirt off and go for a bit of muff-diving. She has gorgeous legs and I know I definitely won’t feel right till I have her again. Can’t keep my eyes off her thighs, as she wriggles her way into the cabin and onto the bunk.

"Funny people the English," I say to Richard later, "always talk like they can win everything, be it the London Olympics or the upcoming European football tournament. Always ignoring fantastic talent from other countries and teams, then they are so, so disappointed when they lose. Football is just a game but the English are brain washed, like as in Bill Shankly who said, "Football is not a matter of life or death, it's much more important than life or death." It seems to be like that when it comes to British Occupied Ireland too. I mean we are just after 40 years of deadly troubles, had a peace agreement and they go along and break i,t to intern without trial an Irish prisoner right's activist called Marian Price and torture her in solitary confinement. Its not not just the Olympics or the European Football finals, ;like I said yesterday its not bloody cricket, old boy !

More accurately we have an un-elected, demented English barsteward in Ireland perverting the course of justice, ripping up Queens pardons or loosing them to start another 40 years of war in Ireland. Wind your neck in you double eyed barsteward, leave the Irish women and men play their grown up games in their own country, stop interfering in other people's business and get back to yer wanking! Until you do, this Galway Whooker is sailing up your London Olympics, up your Thames, up your's mate! You see Ghengis, my voodoo helps. I have a bag of old bones scavenged from graveyards all over the UK. Whenever things get a bit too much or I am annoyed, I ride on the Galway Whooker by moonlight and cast them. Seems to work everytime, it worked with Brian Faulkner. The Brits have been after them for years but they can sod off. I’ve told them, they can have the bones back but only when we have Marian, our political prisoners and our country back. Beware of Shankley's ghost England to lose on penalties? Blame the ref is it or blame epic literature? Life's a voyage, we're all adrift on the ocean of life, some more than others. Sometimes we sail calmly, sometimes buffeted by storms from nowhere. We are now sailing into uncharted waters, as we approach London Olympics 2012.

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Useta Luv Her Video

BREAKING NEWS: London Olympics Security Penetrated by Galway Whooker

 international | rights and freedoms | other press  Wednesday May 16, 2012 13:38 by BrianClarkeNUJ - AllVoices 

Disgrace O'Malley

So I'm kind of just thinking out loud and I’ll just write the stuff here. If you don’t feckin like what you're reading, you can just piss off! So I'm sittin here on a tropical island in the south China sea, with more pussy than you can shake your stick at! Now I've been thinking lately about the swinging Londoners. So Swinging Dickhead, I hear you say, were you in Carnaby Street recently? No I wasn't my English friend, as you know I'm Irish, its years ago but what with the Olympics there currently, with an Irish girl interned without trial and tortured, its just not bloody cricket breaking the peace agreement, we have to do something for the poor woman.

LONDON OLYMPIC PROTEST

So I'm kind of just thinking out loud and I’ll just write the stuff here. If you don’t feckin like what you're reading, you can just piss off! So I'm sittin here on a tropical island in the south China sea, with more pussy than you can shake your stick at! Now I've been thinking lately about the swinging Londoners. So Swinging Dickhead, I hear you say, were you in Carnaby Street recently? No I wasn't my English friend, as you know I'm Irish, its years ago but what with the Olympics there currently, with an Irish girl interned without trial and tortured, its just not bloody cricket breaking the peace agreement, we have to do something for the poor woman.

So with Meme and Pui giggling below deck in my Galway Whooker in the South China Sea, I get an idea. I call Richard my English friend to ask him over. After he arrives, I say to the girls to come out. Come on and say hallo to Richard I shout. Out they come topless with bikini pants and I give the ould English pucker a wave towards them. “Frightfully charming ,” says he. “Delightfully cute.” Blinking his eyes he can’t believe his good fortune. “I’ll leave you at it then Richard,” I tell him, “There's a few berths below to choose from and you can lock the cabin door from inside. “That's jolly decent of you Bernie he say, how can I thank you.” he whispers. “I detest broaching the subject of renumeration but we'll chat again.” Nudge, nudge, wink, wink and he was gone for his oats, quicker than a flash. He didn’t give me a chance to tell him about the mini-cams but ignorance is bliss and what he doesn’t know, won’t bother him for now, let him enjoy himself.

Now I have to digress for a minute to explain how all this came to be. You see there is a right auld unelected bollocks, running Occupied Ireland at the minute, who as some of you might already know has been perverting the course of justice there. Loosing or shredding a Queen's pardon, interning a highly respected Irish woman without trial along with several other political, prisoners of conscience. He's also been torturing her, along with administering considerable cruelty to animals. He fancies himself as bit of a sadistic, Ghengis Khan and he needs sortin.They have a posh, big house in the country in Shropshire I believe, with dogs and horses and all that. I could tell you more but for now, there is this bar-girl sitting on my face.

Right where was I, oh yes, I was on about a bunch of septics riding around somewhere in the South China Sea, having a good time and all that. They aren’t nasty or anything but as some of you will already know, perfdious Albion has some crafty bastards and you couldn’t put anything past them, as my instincts told me a long time ago with my dear friend Richard. Beisdes it wouldn't be wise to go rushing up the Thames with him riding a Galway Whooker protesting torture and internment without trial in British Occupied Ireland, better he go up on his own.

Which brings me back to the first time I met Richard or perhaps I should say his wife. I always enjoyed watching Indonesian women washing clothes, not that I want to piss off any other yachties in marinas of the South China Sea but its a chance to meet my neighbours. So there I was sunning myself on deck, with the women scrubbing away, when an ould english old bag from the next boat, stuck up her blue rinsed head and was waffling on like “Excuse me Paddy but you must realize all this waste, finds it’s way back to our beautiful ecosystem!” “Well yes says I, but you have pissed since you came to this part of the world, have you ?” “Humph, that’s hardly the point, my urine is not the same as your PCBs!.” “Ach, says I that’s why we use organic soap, made with olive oil and a bit of Essex salt mixed in, to help get rid of my underpant's skidmarks.”

I was just going to tell her how ugly she looked, when her old man puts his head above deck with a big Hallo! while getting an eyeful of Pui’s breasts, as she bent over washing her laundry? " Jolly good show" he says. “Yes, I said, a very good show, you should see her pole dancing in my bar at the Jakarta Cock." He gave me a sarcastic smile and goes back to playing with himself or whatever he was at, unaware the trap was set.

“Richard Ainsworth Barclay Q.C. Retired. I used to be a judge.” Bloody hell that was quick, he introduced himself in my place later that evening. “That was a shock seeing you today like that Paddy.” Says the bould judge.“ Call me Bernie. Richard and me, talked about this and about that but mostly, London late sixties early seventies. Boats sailing and the famed Galway Hooker. I notice he was fond of a drop so I ordered another bottle of Jameson.

“You like the Jakarta Cock do you Richard?” “ “Can you keep a secret Bernie?” he says. “Of course I can, between me and you, I have been in places like this more often than I care to mention.” “Really I said?” as I switched on the tape recorder. This will cost you, you Essex bugger. “ I remember the first time I went to a business conference in Hong Kong and some of our chaps wanted a bit of sport, if you know what I mean.” “To see some of the dens of iniquity in the red light and that? Dipped your wick did you?” I said “Oh yes indeed, Bernie old boy. Of course one thing lead to another and to be frank with you, I acquired a taste for it.” “Its been known to happen Richard, just like myself, really.” so on he went.

I let Richard talk as he had so much stuff dammed up inside him and as I was his new best mate who would listen and understand. Inevitably he came to mention my crew. “I must say Bernie, those are saucy little foxes on your boat. You’re lucky, I’m stuck with Dora.” “Yes Richard, I noticed, I'll tell you what, I can fix you up with one of them in the next few days, if you fancy it. Just give me your number and I'll give you a buzz when the coast is clear ” “Muahaha ! Nice one Bernie,” “ Richard, I’ll arrange it, you can have a sandwich if you like!. They like it that way, a change is as good as rest. You can borrow on of my cabins on my boat."

Now this was the nicest thing to happen to Richard for some time. While he was wondering if he could get away with his legal mind at work. I gave him a call next day when Dora was out of the way, as he replied. “That's awfully decent of you Bernie. No problem Rich, bring herself if you like.” knowing full well she had gone out and that was the last thing he wanted. Like I said I got him over to my Galway Whoreker and there he is bangin away below deck. Somebody’s going to get a nasty shock when they find out they will have to single-handedly take my Galway Whoreker up the Thames for an Olympic Protest. 

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galway hoor, parody

Olympics London, London Olympics, Olympics, Olympic, Olympic Games, Games, Two Thousand and Twelve, 2012, Twenty-Twelve, London, medals, sponsors, summer, gold, silver, bronze

OLYMPIC LONDON TORTURES BRITISH OCCUPIED IRELAND

OLYMPIC LONDON TORTURES BRITISH OCCUPIED IRELAND - http://iri... on Twitpic

Cead Mile Failte, A Hundred Thousand Welcomes

“There are praises of flowers who epitomise the unconquerable spirit of Irish womanhood. Let no man dare to scorn these women and let your weeds of indifference and sleeping roses blush in everlasting shame.”—Bobby Sands

Marian Price has been politically interned now without trial in British Occupied Ireland for over 1 year in almost total solitary confinement. After previously been force fed 400 times by the British while on 200 days of hunger strike, Marian now has very serious health problems and is in considerable constant pain, as result of her previous treatment. She is now has to be moved in a wheel chair and the doctors say she should either be in a hospital or at home. The British autocrat has instructed loyalist prisoners to bang on the walls of her prison all night and shout Loyalist slogans in support of the queen so that she cannot sleep.She had previously received a Royal pardon which would mean she should be released immediately, the British now say they have lost it. 

The UN special rapporteur on torture recently called for solitary confinement to be banned in all but 'exceptional circumstances' and that it never to last more than 15 days. The British are also ignoring the first Geneva Convention of 1864 in the treatment of Marian, as per her injuries from their previous torture. Despite a court ordering her release, this political internment ordered by an un-elected Englishman in Ireland, is administered using deprivation techniques, banned by the European Court in Strasbourg, where Britain was found guilty of torture in British Occupied Ireland.

We call on everyone to boycott the London Olympics and all of its sponsors !

Olympics London, London Olympics, Olympics, Olympic, Olympic Games, Games, Two Thousand and Twelve, 2012, Twenty-Twelve, London, medals, sponsors, summer, gold, silver, bronze

GREENWASHED COCKNEY OLYMPRICKS

The Olympic Games have prostituted themselves to be the most effective marketing platform in the world, to billions of consumers, in more than 200 countries around the world. Money generated by business partnerships, amounts to over 40% of Olympic revenue. In exchange sponsorship, companies get marketing rights in territories, category with various Olympic logos and images.

The following companies are TOP Partners for the London 2012 Olympic Games. McDonalds, Coca-Cola, Adidas, Panasonic, Acer, Atos, Dow, GE, Omega, Proctor & Gamble, Samsung, VISA and Nike. Organisers in London along with the International Olympic Committee, are policing everything to protect more than 53 sponsors and partners from locall business. Businesses who did not pay sponsorship from £5 million to £100 million are policed out by officials.

Small businesses with venues in east London, won't be allowed to operate normally, with one owner saying, "What they talked about was winning the Olympic bid based on diversity, support for the local area and support for the local businesses, but we've been shut out." While the Olympics are accused of using the Games to "greenwash" unethical corporations who sponsor.

The Olympic so-called TOP sponsors, pay a minimum of $100m each for 10-year contracts, while Tier One sponsors for London alone. have paid £40m each. London 2012 organizers, have raised £700m locally. Dow's sponsorship is controversial, as campaigners claim it has debts because of its1984 Bhopal disaster in India, which killed 20,000 people. Recently protesters led by MPs, including London mayor candidate Ken Livingstone, have many more grievances. BP is also a target of protest groups, which includes the UK Tar Sands Network who believe the extraction of polluting tar sands, combined with the Deepwater Horizon disaster, make BP "one of the least sustainable companies on earth".

Rio Tinto using metal from their controversial Utah mine make the medals, while being the number one emitter of toxins, known to harm human health. Greenwash Gold 2012 Campaign has condemned multinational sponsors such as BP, Rio Tinto and Dow Chemical Company, paying huge sums to become Olympic sponsors, stressing these three companies alone, have caused environmental degradation, damaged public health and failed to clean up their pollution.


London's Orwellian Blood Olympics carry criminal sanctions, for violating the exclusivity of elite sponsors' brands, with special hit  squads of "brand police" forcing pubs to take down signs of free TV viewing, to removing stickers with the brand-names other than those products made by the games' sponsors. The special hit  squads of "brand police" are also sending takedown notices to YouTube and Facebook of anything related to occupied Ireland, political prisoners of conscience, internment without trial or games visitors, who have the cheek to post personal images for friends to see. These rules have been made criminal ones, so violating the sponsors means the "brand police" will probabaly end up imprisoning restless Londoner natives.

Images or words suggesting a link with the Games is also criminal. Any two from the following list: Games, Two Thousand and Twelve, 2012, Twenty-Twelve combined with London, medals, sponsors, summer, gold, silver or bronze is another likely term of imprisonment. London's Olympic bid insisted on these restrictions to get sponsors, making promises to restrict free speech and personal expression. As Olympic sponsors insist on even more restrictions and surveillance than the previous games, suggesting a promise in the near future to imprison all non-attendees and permanently tattoo sponsors' logos such as McDonalds, Coca-Cola, the British Crown on the faces and chests of all those non-ticket-buyers from British Occupied Ireland.

London Olympics claim to be the greenest ever, has been dismissed vehemently as “corporate spin” by human rights groups, who launched a campaign against the toxic blood sponsors. Aside from the British Empire itself being accused of crimes against humanity in Occupied Ireland, Meredith Alexander the Olympics “ethics tsar” has resigned in opposition to the chemical firms’ who sponsor and will lead human rights activists from the United States, Canada, India, Ireland which is gathering international momentum. She said Britain has broken its promise to be the greenest games ever, by picking toxic sponsors such as Dow one of the most polluted sites on the planet; a major mining polluter, Rio Tinto and BP who are involved in the dirtiest form of oil. BP was responsible for the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, in Alberta, Canada a carbon intensive operation, polluting and damaging the eco system.

There is nothing green about the Bloody London Olympics, certainly not from any real Irish people left in Occupied Ireland, Britain has more political prisoners of conscience per head of the population than China and it certainly engages in more fascist censorship, than the People Republic or even Hitler's Nazi book burners of Munich ever did. NO ! the whole corporate set up and Orwellian backdrop of the London Olympics is bloody indeed.


   

   

Anarchy Love on May Day

Anarchists are often presented as being combative and anti-social, while their doctrine is co-operation and sociability. Peter Kropotkin explained the split between Anarchism and Marxism of the 1870′s in terms of cultural differences between Northern Europe and Southern Europe. France, Italy and Spain were the strongest centres of Anarchism while Marxist intellectuals were strongest in England, Holland and Germany. Ireland would identify more strongly with southern Europe for several reasons one of them being a sense of passion from the heart or E.Q rather than I.Q.

The Anarchist-Marxist split runs along the lines of Anarchism essentially being the concept of most people naturally wanting to be good to others when the incentives in the current system, that encourages people to be arseholes are removed, then tradition, custom and the natural desire to be good to family, friends and neighbours will regulate society. Marxism on the other hand believes, people need to be controlled by a dictatorship of the proletariat, without which Marxists cannot visualize a society functioning or maintaining cohesion. 

Anarchists could perhaps do things smarter by attraction rather than promotion. Anarchism is mostly seen in terms of smashing the state, class warfare, propaganda of deed or as Bakunin said, “The passion for destruction is a creative passion.” However this is at odds with our greatest strength, which is our community focus, instead of smashing the state, perhaps we could consider building stronger communities, which no longer need the state and that we do propaganda of deed by actually building these communities?

Anarchy with Passion

Related Link: http://struggle.ws/rbr/rbr4_racism.html

Good men must die, but death cannot kill their names. - Proverb

The Late John McGuffin

The obituary cliche that "He didn't suffer fools gladly" was never more apt than for John McGuffin, which occasionally presented him with problems of an inter-personal nature, since McGuffin tended to regard a remarkably wide section of the earth's population as fools. Anybody who voted in an election ("It's wrong to choose your masters!"). All who had ever darkened the door of a church after reaching the age of reason. People opposed to cannabis. And that was just for starters.




One day in the late 1960s, when we thought we'd heard the chimes of freedom flashing, I drove to Dublin with McGuffin and the American anarchist Jerry Rubin. A mile or so out of Newry, McGuffin explained to the fabled member of the Chicago Seven that the town we were approaching was in the grip of revolution. The risen people had turned en masse to anarchism. We'd better barrel on through. If we stopped for a moment the fevered proletariat would surely engulf us...




Down were in the All-Ireland final that weekend. Every house, lamppost and telegraph pole was festooned with red-and-black flags. Rubin was agog, at risk of levitation when we passed under banners strung across the streets, reading, "Up Down!"
"These people really got the revolutionary ethic", enthused the ecstatic Rubin.
"As much as yourself, comrade", allowed the gracious McGuffin.
He turned up on the Burntollet march with an anarchist banner but couldn't persuade anybody to carry the other pole. He marched all the way with the furled standard sloped on his shoulder, managing to convey that this was sure evidence of his singular revolutionary rectitude, the easy-oozy reformism of the rest of us.




McGuffin was interned in August 1971, as far as I know the only Protestant lifted in the initial swoop. He wrote a fine book on internment afterwards, "The Guineapigs". He was later to publish "In Praise of Poteen", "The Hairs of the Dog" and, recently, "Last Orders, Please!". He was a gifted, utterly undisciplined writer, eschewing the pedantries of structure and all strictures of taste. Various newspapers agreed to give him regular space, but it never lasted. Editors physically winced at his ferocious philippics. He said to me of this column a few months back, "If it's any good, why havn't they sacked you?"




For a time, An Phoblacht published his scabrously brilliant "Brigadier" column. Frequently, the Provos wouldn't print it because they thought their readers would find it offensive. They weren't bad judges.
I first became aware of McGuffin within a week of arriving at Queen's as a wide-eyed innocent from the Bogside. He erupted into a debate addressed by Sam Thompson, the former shipyard worker whose play, "Over The Bridge", had convulsed the Unionist establishment with rage. Thompson was the hero of the hour for Northern liberals. But not for McGuffin. The only achievement of "Over The Bridge", he raged, had been to enable a section of the useless middle class to feel good about themselves for having a night out at the theatre. "Meanwhile, Basil Brook is roaming the streets..."




He took off for California in the early '80s, where he practiced as a lawyer for 15 years, advertising his services under the slogan, "Sean McGuffin, Attorney at Law, Irish-friendly - No crime too big, no crime too small". He only did defences and preferred getting people off who he reckoned were guilty because that way it was more fun.




He was my friend for 40 years. The announcement of his end told that he died peacefully on the morning of April 28th after a long illness, and that two days before turning sideways to the sun had married his long-term collaborator, comrade and partner Christiane.
He was laid out in his coffin with a smile of final satisfaction on a face sculpted like a chieftain of old, in a black t-shirt with square red lettering, "Unrepentant Fenian Bastard".


Way to go, McGuffin.

Eamonn McCann