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People Before Profit/ULA TD, Richard Boyd Barrett, last night challenged the government’s inhuman
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Showing posts with label IRISH. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IRISH. Show all posts
Monday, August 19, 2013
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Free Marian Price #freemarianprice #MarianPrice http://irishblog-brianclarkenuj.blogspot.com/
Free Marian Price #freemarianprice #MarianPrice http://irishblog-brianclarkenuj.blogspot.com/: Free Marian Price #freemarianprice #MarianPrice http://irishblog-brianclarkenuj.blogspot.com/
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Saturday, September 1, 2012
The Price of Justice for an IrishNigger international | ri... on Twitpic
The Price of Justice for an IrishNigger international | ri... on Twitpic
international | rights and freedoms | opinion/analysis 
Saturday September 01, 2012 21:25
by BrianClarkeNUJ - AllVoices
The Price of Justice for an IrishNigger
international | rights and freedoms | opinion/analysis Saturday September 01, 2012 21:25 by BrianClarkeNUJ - AllVoicesWhat Civil Rights ?
"The accumulation of all powers, legislative, executive, and judiciary, in the same hands ... is the definition of tyranny."
- James Madison
The power of the Executive to cast a man into prison without formulating any charge known to the law, and particularly to deny him the judgment of his peers, is in the highest degree odious and is the foundation of all totalitarian government whether Nazi or Communist.
Winston Churchill as, In The Highest Degree Odious : Detention Without Trial in Wartime Britain by A. W. B. Simpson
Forty years ago Marian Price marched for civil rights, with her friend Moira Drumm in British Occupied Ireland after being inspired by the Black Civil Rights movement lead by Martin Luther King in the US. Over 40 year later on a windy day, she reached up and held a script, to prevent it being blown away, while a masked man read the traditional IRA’s “Easter Message.” She was arrested on May 13th 2011 and charged with encouraging support of an illegal organisation. Marian appeared three days later in court in Derry, where she was granted bail but as she left the courthouse, she was re-arrested, as per order of a document, signed by the Vice royal Owen Paterson and taken to high-security, solitary confinement in the all male Maghaberry jail. The court case was meaningless, because Paterson’s contempt for justice and due process was trumped by his order to override the bail decision of the Judiciary.
Now, as a result of sensory deprivation torture, she is seriously ill and has been transferred to a Belfast hospital, like her former friend Moira Drumm whom the British shot dead in a Belfast hospital many years ago. Marian is under armed guard with locked bolted doors, barred windows and under 24 hour surveillance. She is gravely ill with pneumonia, while probably being held until she dies in one way or another. Paterson’s order for Marian to effectively die in a British prison, was based on “intelligence” information from his secret services, who have a vested interest in the internment of traditional Irish republicans and political dissidents.
In July, Marian was then charged with “providing property for the purposes of terrorism” allegedly having bought a mobile phone which the British maintained was subsequently used in the killing of two British soldiers at Massereene barracks, back in early 2009. Marian was held then, for two days, questioned about this specific allegation, before being released without charge. No evidence was found in the interim or proffered to the court on this matter. The Judge looking at precisely the same lack of evidence, again granted Marian bail. But yet again as she left the court, another unelected vice royal Paterson order, took precedence over the judge and the court.The Massereene charge was meant to discredit her and associate her with the shootings to undermine a public campaign for her release which attracted considerable support, from people not politically aligned, who could not fathom what crime she had actually been committed, at the traditional Easter Commemoration. Since then the British have orchestrated several personal whispering campaigns, against Marian and her supporters.
A year after her original arrest, the charges relating to the commemoration were thrown out of a Derry court by the judge, who was told, preliminary papers were still not ready. Judge McElholm declared every citizen was entitled to a fair trial, in a reasonable period and that the British had clearly not met this criteria. But again Marian was imprisoned by an order from Paterson. This was the third time a court ordered her released and the third time the unelected English Vice royal in British Occupied Ireland, overruled the court and said no. Further to overruling the judiciary, he also overruled his own Queen. Marian Price was previously given a full royal pardon by the Queen of England or the royal Prerogative of Mercy.Cardinal O'Fiach the head of the Catholic Church bore witness to the fact. Vice royal Paterson again claimed that this document, which would set Marian free, had been lost or shredded by his colleagues. This is a rather serious matter, because perverting the course of justice, is a very serious matter carrying a life in prison for ordinary mortals.
Patrick Ramsey, a Social Democratic Labour member of the elected British Assembly recently wrote to Paterson about this "lost" pardon and formally asked;
-- Where would Mrs. Price-McGlinchey's pardon have been held?
-- How many staff are currently seeking the document and in what departments?
-- Are those looking for it doing so on a full-time basis, if not, why not?
-- Has the Northern Ireland Office received comment from the judiciary on the apparent loss of the document?
-- How many Royal Prerogative's have been lost (or destroyed) that the government has record of?
-- Who is ultimately responsible for the care and maintenance of the building where these documents are kept?
-- What communication [has Paterson] personally had with this person/Department?
-- Can [Paterson] confirm the Department is still seeking the document and will do so until it is found?
Again the unelected English Vice royal Paterson in Ireland contemptuously dismissed the elected Irish Assembly member Ramsey's inquiry, stating that "unfortunately the Royal Prerogative of Mercy was not recovered but had no bearing on current circumstances. Patterson has now even gone further and is now demanding, the local elected Assembly be downsized and it's 'peace process' structures be dismantled.
The UN Special Rapporteur on Torture, Juan Mendez and two leading criminologists, Dr. Phil Scraton of Queen’s University and Dr. Linda Moore of the University of Ulster, have visited Marian with all three calling for her release both on the grounds of her civil rights, basic due process and for humanitarian health reasons before she dies. Both academics and authors of several official reports on prisons in Occupied Ireland, stated: “Given the concerns expressed locally and internationally regarding her continued detention and declining health, we urge you to release her on humanitarian grounds. Marian Price has been imprisoned…without trial in circumstances which may amount to administrative internment and which we believe to be in breach of the European Convention on Human Rights.”
Vice royal Paterson the horsey blood sport enthusiast, married into British royalty, sniffed his stiff Tory upper lip and overruled their recommendation once again. Internment without trail, like all things experimented with in British Occupied Ireland, in the last 40 years of British war on the Irish people, is now being introduced in England itself. While Patterson was overruling his British judiciary and Queen, his Tory party colleagues are introducing a Bill to give it's Ministers power, to use secret service gestapo evidence in secrecy, under “Closed Material Procedures.” Such evidence would not be produced in court, for “national security” reasons, preventing even the accused, the right of defence or the right to know what charge exactly is being made against them..
When Marian was 19, she was one of nine members of the Provisional IRA, who planted four bombs in London, which included the Old Bailey almost 40 years ago in March 1973. Despite a two hour warning, a man died from a heart attack. The IRA team, included Gerry Kelly now a Minister at the Stormont parliament and she was also under orders of several current leading Irish politicians, involved in the peace process, a peace process undermining justification for huge secret service, British taxpayers budgets in Ireland. Marian Price was freed more than 30 years ago in 1980, suffering from tuberculosis, anorexia and weighing just five stone. She and her sister Dolours spent 200 days on hunger strike, demanding political status. They were force-fed three times a day for 167 of the 200 days, with a tube forced down their the throats into their stomach, which almost murdered Marian several times. The resulting trauma and psychological damage of ongoing torture then and now, led to a 1980 royal pardon because of imminent death.
Marian has insisted from the moment arrested in May last year, that she was released in 1980 on a Royal Prerogative of Mercy, which Paterson does not have the authority to override. Paterson claims its terms, which he has not seen, authorizes him to override his queen. Marian's lawyers have repeatedly asked that the pardon be produced, so the terms can be checked by a judge. One does not have to be particularly bright, cynical or subjective, listening to the contradictions in Patterson's waffle subsequently, to conclude who precisely should be spending the rest of their life in prison for perverting the course of justice in British Occupied Ireland. The cause of peace in Ireland is not served by the denial of justice. The only cause served by keeping Marian Price and other political prisoners of conscience interned without a proper trial Maghaberry, is the cause and coffers of the bloated secret service British taxpayers budgets. There is a call for those who genuinely want peace in Ireland, to work for justice and protest in Dublin on Sept 15th at 2pm, from the Garden of Remembrance.
The author would like to thank Eamonn McCann for his researched material used in this article.
Now, as a result of sensory deprivation torture, she is seriously ill and has been transferred to a Belfast hospital, like her former friend Moira Drumm whom the British shot dead in a Belfast hospital many years ago. Marian is under armed guard with locked bolted doors, barred windows and under 24 hour surveillance. She is gravely ill with pneumonia, while probably being held until she dies in one way or another. Paterson’s order for Marian to effectively die in a British prison, was based on “intelligence” information from his secret services, who have a vested interest in the internment of traditional Irish republicans and political dissidents.
In July, Marian was then charged with “providing property for the purposes of terrorism” allegedly having bought a mobile phone which the British maintained was subsequently used in the killing of two British soldiers at Massereene barracks, back in early 2009. Marian was held then, for two days, questioned about this specific allegation, before being released without charge. No evidence was found in the interim or proffered to the court on this matter. The Judge looking at precisely the same lack of evidence, again granted Marian bail. But yet again as she left the court, another unelected vice royal Paterson order, took precedence over the judge and the court.The Massereene charge was meant to discredit her and associate her with the shootings to undermine a public campaign for her release which attracted considerable support, from people not politically aligned, who could not fathom what crime she had actually been committed, at the traditional Easter Commemoration. Since then the British have orchestrated several personal whispering campaigns, against Marian and her supporters.
A year after her original arrest, the charges relating to the commemoration were thrown out of a Derry court by the judge, who was told, preliminary papers were still not ready. Judge McElholm declared every citizen was entitled to a fair trial, in a reasonable period and that the British had clearly not met this criteria. But again Marian was imprisoned by an order from Paterson. This was the third time a court ordered her released and the third time the unelected English Vice royal in British Occupied Ireland, overruled the court and said no. Further to overruling the judiciary, he also overruled his own Queen. Marian Price was previously given a full royal pardon by the Queen of England or the royal Prerogative of Mercy.Cardinal O'Fiach the head of the Catholic Church bore witness to the fact. Vice royal Paterson again claimed that this document, which would set Marian free, had been lost or shredded by his colleagues. This is a rather serious matter, because perverting the course of justice, is a very serious matter carrying a life in prison for ordinary mortals.
Patrick Ramsey, a Social Democratic Labour member of the elected British Assembly recently wrote to Paterson about this "lost" pardon and formally asked;
-- Where would Mrs. Price-McGlinchey's pardon have been held?
-- How many staff are currently seeking the document and in what departments?
-- Are those looking for it doing so on a full-time basis, if not, why not?
-- Has the Northern Ireland Office received comment from the judiciary on the apparent loss of the document?
-- How many Royal Prerogative's have been lost (or destroyed) that the government has record of?
-- Who is ultimately responsible for the care and maintenance of the building where these documents are kept?
-- What communication [has Paterson] personally had with this person/Department?
-- Can [Paterson] confirm the Department is still seeking the document and will do so until it is found?
Again the unelected English Vice royal Paterson in Ireland contemptuously dismissed the elected Irish Assembly member Ramsey's inquiry, stating that "unfortunately the Royal Prerogative of Mercy was not recovered but had no bearing on current circumstances. Patterson has now even gone further and is now demanding, the local elected Assembly be downsized and it's 'peace process' structures be dismantled.
The UN Special Rapporteur on Torture, Juan Mendez and two leading criminologists, Dr. Phil Scraton of Queen’s University and Dr. Linda Moore of the University of Ulster, have visited Marian with all three calling for her release both on the grounds of her civil rights, basic due process and for humanitarian health reasons before she dies. Both academics and authors of several official reports on prisons in Occupied Ireland, stated: “Given the concerns expressed locally and internationally regarding her continued detention and declining health, we urge you to release her on humanitarian grounds. Marian Price has been imprisoned…without trial in circumstances which may amount to administrative internment and which we believe to be in breach of the European Convention on Human Rights.”
Vice royal Paterson the horsey blood sport enthusiast, married into British royalty, sniffed his stiff Tory upper lip and overruled their recommendation once again. Internment without trail, like all things experimented with in British Occupied Ireland, in the last 40 years of British war on the Irish people, is now being introduced in England itself. While Patterson was overruling his British judiciary and Queen, his Tory party colleagues are introducing a Bill to give it's Ministers power, to use secret service gestapo evidence in secrecy, under “Closed Material Procedures.” Such evidence would not be produced in court, for “national security” reasons, preventing even the accused, the right of defence or the right to know what charge exactly is being made against them..
When Marian was 19, she was one of nine members of the Provisional IRA, who planted four bombs in London, which included the Old Bailey almost 40 years ago in March 1973. Despite a two hour warning, a man died from a heart attack. The IRA team, included Gerry Kelly now a Minister at the Stormont parliament and she was also under orders of several current leading Irish politicians, involved in the peace process, a peace process undermining justification for huge secret service, British taxpayers budgets in Ireland. Marian Price was freed more than 30 years ago in 1980, suffering from tuberculosis, anorexia and weighing just five stone. She and her sister Dolours spent 200 days on hunger strike, demanding political status. They were force-fed three times a day for 167 of the 200 days, with a tube forced down their the throats into their stomach, which almost murdered Marian several times. The resulting trauma and psychological damage of ongoing torture then and now, led to a 1980 royal pardon because of imminent death.
Marian has insisted from the moment arrested in May last year, that she was released in 1980 on a Royal Prerogative of Mercy, which Paterson does not have the authority to override. Paterson claims its terms, which he has not seen, authorizes him to override his queen. Marian's lawyers have repeatedly asked that the pardon be produced, so the terms can be checked by a judge. One does not have to be particularly bright, cynical or subjective, listening to the contradictions in Patterson's waffle subsequently, to conclude who precisely should be spending the rest of their life in prison for perverting the course of justice in British Occupied Ireland. The cause of peace in Ireland is not served by the denial of justice. The only cause served by keeping Marian Price and other political prisoners of conscience interned without a proper trial Maghaberry, is the cause and coffers of the bloated secret service British taxpayers budgets. There is a call for those who genuinely want peace in Ireland, to work for justice and protest in Dublin on Sept 15th at 2pm, from the Garden of Remembrance.
The author would like to thank Eamonn McCann for his researched material used in this article.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Olympics London 2012: Stick it Elsewhere Cockney Sucker
Olympics London 2012: Stick it Elsewhere Cockney Sucker
1 of 2
2012 - Irish Australians DEMAND the release of Marian Price. Please see website link for further information Go to: http://www.freemarian.co.nr/For more music - http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL7D4DDEEEA8E7C23F&feature=playlist-...Category:Nonprofits & ActivismTags:Irish Australians Marian Price human rights abuse saoirse Ireland incarcerationLicense:Standard YouTube License
The Indian Ocean is the third largest ocean of the world, covering approximately a fifth of the water on the Earth. Now we had planned to take the Galway Whooker straight over to Mogadishu but things are getting hairy there with bombs going off in Yemen killing their army in the hundreds, so we have to veer right towards the straits of Hormuz as a diversion for that reason and more importantly I have developed a fever where dialogue of any sort, with what he or she said is like a virus in my system, so you'll have to work it out for yourself, who said that and who said what, bearing in mind there are only four of us on the boat the Filipino Olive, Indonesian Pui English Richard and myself. Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest in this condition so I’m trusting you. I’m running on empty, feeling totally drained most of the time, unable to connect, emotionless
Sounds like something out of Beckett, unable to connect. I don’t have the patience for long descriptive passages now or character details, so I won’t be sharing much light on our human conditions, on a boat in the middle of the Indian Ocean. People are hungry for diversion. Some people think I’m an arrogant prick but they keep coming back, isn't that right Olive ?. It’s all nonsense of course, I know that, but it’s fun. I'm rambling with the fever alright but even at the best of times, it’s hard to tell who’s saying what isn't it ! Anyway the way people are these days you could leave out, he said, she said bits, because it all tends to blend into an endless verbal exchange. Just a long drone, might as well be talking to myself half the time. ‘Total self indulgence, etc., etc., Language is a sort of virus anyway these days, its so heartless and shallow.
Then there is too much space wasted transporting people here and there, which, with the aid of their bank card they can do anyway. Of course dialogue has its purpose. Dialogos. A conversation between two or more persons; a frank exchange of ideas or views on a specific subject, in an effort to attain mutual understanding the result is the women in front of me more westernized since I met them, wearing jeans, carrying cell-phones a lot of the time, Pui sporting red hair with piercing tattoo and well manicured. Amazing to think I hitched to India which is to my right now, when I did. Can’t imagine doing it now. Not possible anymore on that particular journey to the east. An important formative experience or a total waste of time?. Brave? Naïve more like it. Searching for something, still searching, a few more years and I might figure out what I’m looking for. Sometimes I can see the past more clearly but the present baffles me in an age of unbelief.
Are we totally lost or is this London 2012 Olympic protest trip preparation for the next evolutionary step. Still I consider myself lucky to watch it all or am out of touch with the real world or is just the fever. What was her name, oh yeah, Meme. I brought her a bunch of flowers in a brothel. Still, you’re either on the bus or you’re off the bus. Some are never totally on or off the bus with a foot on the bottom step, mostly undecided. But then sex I suppose is some kind of escapist dream too. It’s so relaxed in the east ,compared to those loud pushy western women.
But that journey is not possible anymore. No hitch-hiking across Afghanistan. Those days are gone with the only people going to Afghanistan now being NGOs and contract mercenaries. The memories are like flashbacks; buses loading and unloading in narrow streets, moustached men wearing cloth caps, piling in and out of old American cars, glimpses of minarets and Islamic architecture. Ragged, bearded and in that time from as far away as India like MU, squatting cross-legged, scraping pieces of large blocks dark hash scored in Kandahar. The memory of it all with this fever, makes me want to smoke again, something I haven't done for years but it was cool to smoke there walking barefoot on old cobbled roads.
Man an woman too !, I'm inhaling deeply from a joint and passing it to Richard , look man that’s Asia over there and Africa across there with Europe up there. That’s where we were, Asia is big man and the Iran they plan to nuke is big too.Hope you cats know what you’re gettin into. The East will change Western thinking soon, not before time.? Dig their crazy cannons man. They used them for hash pipes in Afghanistan, no I kid you not. Massive clay pipes they loaded them up with hash and passed them round with everybody having a pull. Afghan cats were cool in those days. So you think you can smoke hash? Wait till you get an Afghan jellum, blow your heads off, gently of course. Man look at that sky again. Dig those clouds man! great cosmic circus and we’re all part of it with something big about to happen. Big changes man, can you feel it? We are the agents of change man, we are going to change the world!
Now we are walking on the wild side a little, random perhaps but spontaneous. You's all know there is something’s seriously wrong with the former cosy, material, world emanating from the City of London but you's can’t let it go, can you ?. Well you will have no choice soon! Krishna, Kali...Yin, Yang.... . England doesn’t really work anymore, man . Shit man, we have tapped into the spirit man... just go with the flow...tap the energy source. Its a while since Henry Miller told London to Phuck off! Too fucking much, man. That cat was a mini god man! Turned on the life force....in the air man.... it’s free, man. But first we have to open it. Just talking is not enough, that's what this trip on the protesting Galway Whooker on British Occupied Ireland with internment, up the bloody Thames is all about. Phuckin Cockney intellectuals full of hipsters, beatniks or whatever the phuck they called themselves sitting around smoking weed and analyzing their self-centred lives, don't cut it man. Get to phuck out..before its too late....its too cerebral man!
Shit I’m horny, I want to ride the two women on deck. India to the right is wild man. Cows in the street with gurus, sadhus and wild holy men, ramblin around naked covered in ashes man. Weird shit and the people are great…especially the poor ones…they've got nuthin but they feed you man and if you get stuck you can always go to the Sikh temples…you can sleep there and they give you food... it’s free man. some crazy cats there man…I met a German who spent 10 years on an ashram... who could drink through his cock. There’s a revolution happenin man...a revolution of the soul...can you feel it ...this is just the beginning...I’ll tell you what man...in a year or two there’ll be men and women wandering around, looking for...enlightenment.. for themselves.;;;lookin for the Spirituality of Abundance...check it out woman...and maybe some just lookin for dope..... oblivion...who knows...
Oh man, I'm not just horny, those women on deck are something else man, sensual women is always feminine, rounded and abundant. They savours sexual enjoyment even when unaroused state they sexually moist. With such an abundance of juices, these sensual women give off a slight, pleasant smell which increases strongly when aroused. They like each other and me playing with their sexual bodies. I think I’m in love not madly but in a nice easy way. Which one you may ask? Both of them of course, Life! please don’t make me choose. Oh shit, those crazy women last night ..sometimes they're phucking sexual animals. They just went nuts. Tore off all my clothes, licking, sucking each other and me on deck in the cabin, at one point they were half upside down hanging off the railings and the boat. There was spinning lights, it felt like an alien abduction, damn they are insatiable, fever, heat..I better stop, I'm strung out man......
Wisława Szymborska 1923-2012 is famous for her subtle simplicity shapes and themes. The magic in this poem comes from her unconventional approach. She brings my attention to the easiness I feel in the absence of raw emotion of conventional love where heart and mind go to the opposite sweet uneasiness of love quaking my whole existence.
Thank-You Note
I owe so much to those I don't love.
The relief as I agree that someone else needs them more.
The happiness that I'm not the wolf to their sheep.
The peace I feel with them, the freedom – love can neither give nor take that.
I don't wait for them, as in window-to-door-and-back.
Almost as patient as a sundial, I understand what love can't, and forgive as love never would.
From a rendezvous to a letter is just a few days or weeks, not an eternity.
Trips with them always go smoothly, concerts are heard, cathedrals visited, scenery is seen.
And when seven hills and rivers come between us, the hills and rivers can be found on any map.
They deserve the credit if I live in three dimensions, in nonlyrical and nonrhetorical space with a genuine, shifting horizon.
They themselves don't realize how much they hold in their empty hands.
"I don't owe them a thing," would be love's answer to this open question.
The Indian Ocean is the third largest ocean of the world, covering approximately a fifth of the water on the Earth. Now we had planned to take the Galway Whooker straight over to Mogadishu but things are getting hairy there with bombs going off in Yemen killing their army in the hundreds, so we have to veer right towards the straits of Hormuz as a diversion for that reason and more importantly I have developed a fever where dialogue of any sort, with what he or she said is like a virus in my system, so you'll have to work it out for yourself, who said that and who said what, bearing in mind there are only four of us on the boat the Filipino Olive, Indonesian Pui English Richard and myself. Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest in this condition so I’m trusting you. I’m running on empty, feeling totally drained most of the time, unable to connect, emotionless
Sounds like something out of Beckett, unable to connect. I don’t have the patience for long descriptive passages now or character details, so I won’t be sharing much light on our human conditions, on a boat in the middle of the Indian Ocean. People are hungry for diversion. Some people think I’m an arrogant prick but they keep coming back, isn't that right Olive ?. It’s all nonsense of course, I know that, but it’s fun. I'm rambling with the fever alright but even at the best of times, it’s hard to tell who’s saying what isn't it ! Anyway the way people are these days you could leave out, he said, she said bits, because it all tends to blend into an endless verbal exchange. Just a long drone, might as well be talking to myself half the time. ‘Total self indulgence, etc., etc., Language is a sort of virus anyway these days, its so heartless and shallow.
Then there is too much space wasted transporting people here and there, which, with the aid of their bank card they can do anyway. Of course dialogue has its purpose. Dialogos. A conversation between two or more persons; a frank exchange of ideas or views on a specific subject, in an effort to attain mutual understanding the result is the women in front of me more westernized since I met them, wearing jeans, carrying cell-phones a lot of the time, Pui sporting red hair with piercing tattoo and well manicured. Amazing to think I hitched to India which is to my right now, when I did. Can’t imagine doing it now. Not possible anymore on that particular journey to the east. An important formative experience or a total waste of time?. Brave? Naïve more like it. Searching for something, still searching, a few more years and I might figure out what I’m looking for. Sometimes I can see the past more clearly but the present baffles me in an age of unbelief.
Are we totally lost or is this London 2012 Olympic protest trip preparation for the next evolutionary step. Still I consider myself lucky to watch it all or am out of touch with the real world or is just the fever. What was her name, oh yeah, Meme. I brought her a bunch of flowers in a brothel. Still, you’re either on the bus or you’re off the bus. Some are never totally on or off the bus with a foot on the bottom step, mostly undecided. But then sex I suppose is some kind of escapist dream too. It’s so relaxed in the east ,compared to those loud pushy western women.
But that journey is not possible anymore. No hitch-hiking across Afghanistan. Those days are gone with the only people going to Afghanistan now being NGOs and contract mercenaries. The memories are like flashbacks; buses loading and unloading in narrow streets, moustached men wearing cloth caps, piling in and out of old American cars, glimpses of minarets and Islamic architecture. Ragged, bearded and in that time from as far away as India like MU, squatting cross-legged, scraping pieces of large blocks dark hash scored in Kandahar. The memory of it all with this fever, makes me want to smoke again, something I haven't done for years but it was cool to smoke there walking barefoot on old cobbled roads.
Man an woman too !, I'm inhaling deeply from a joint and passing it to Richard , look man that’s Asia over there and Africa across there with Europe up there. That’s where we were, Asia is big man and the Iran they plan to nuke is big too.Hope you cats know what you’re gettin into. The East will change Western thinking soon, not before time.? Dig their crazy cannons man. They used them for hash pipes in Afghanistan, no I kid you not. Massive clay pipes they loaded them up with hash and passed them round with everybody having a pull. Afghan cats were cool in those days. So you think you can smoke hash? Wait till you get an Afghan jellum, blow your heads off, gently of course. Man look at that sky again. Dig those clouds man! great cosmic circus and we’re all part of it with something big about to happen. Big changes man, can you feel it? We are the agents of change man, we are going to change the world!
Now we are walking on the wild side a little, random perhaps but spontaneous. You's all know there is something’s seriously wrong with the former cosy, material, world emanating from the City of London but you's can’t let it go, can you ?. Well you will have no choice soon! Krishna, Kali...Yin, Yang.... . England doesn’t really work anymore, man . Shit man, we have tapped into the spirit man... just go with the flow...tap the energy source. Its a while since Henry Miller told London to fuck off! Too fucking much, man. That cat was a mini god man! Turned on the life force....in the air man.... it’s free, man. But first we have to open it. Just talking is not enough, that's what this trip on the protesting Galway Whooker on British Occupied Ireland with internment, up the bloody Thames is all about. Phuckin Cockney intellectuals full of hipsters, beatniks or whatever the fuck they called themselves sitting around smoking weed and analyzing their self-centred lives, don't cut it man.
Get to phuck out..before its too late....its too cerebral man!
Shit I’m horny, I want to ride the two women on deck. India to the right is wild man. Cows in the street with gurus, sadhus and wild holy men, ramblin around naked covered in ashes man. Weird shit and the people are great…especially the poor ones…they've got nuthin but they feed you man and if you get stuck you can always go to the Sikh temples…you can sleep there and they give you food... it’s free man. some crazy cats there man…I met a German who spent 10 years on an ashram... who could drink through his cock. There’s a revolution happenin man...a revolution of the soul...can you feel it ...this is just the beginning...I’ll tell you what man...in a year or two there’ll be men and women wandering around, looking for...enlightenment.. for themselves.;;;lookin for the Spirituality of Abundance...check it out woman...and maybe some just lookin for dope..... oblivion...who knows...
Oh man, I'm not just horny, those women on deck are something else man, sensual women is always feminine, rounded and abundant. They savours sexual enjoyment even when unaroused state they sexually moist. With such an abundance of juices, these sensual women give off a slight, pleasant smell which increases strongly when aroused. They like each other and me playing with their sexual bodies. I think I’m in love not madly but in a nice easy way. Which one you may ask? Both of them of course, Life! please don’t make me choose. Oh shit, those crazy women last night ..sometimes they're phucking sexual animals. They just went nuts. Tore off all my clothes, licking, sucking each other and me on deck in the cabin, at one point they were half upside down hanging off the railings and the boat. There was spinning lights, it felt like an alien abduction, damn they are insatiable, fever, heat..I better stop, I'm strung out man......
Wisława Szymborska 1923-2012 is famous for her subtle simplicity shapes and themes. The magic in this poem comes from her unconventional approach. She brings my attention to the easiness I feel in the absence of raw emotion of conventional love where heart and mind go to the opposite sweet uneasiness of love quaking my whole existence.
Thank-You Note
I owe so much
to those I don't love.
The relief as I agree
that someone else needs them more.
The happiness that I'm not
the wolf to their sheep.
The peace I feel with them,
the freedom –
love can neither give
nor take that.
I don't wait for them,
as in window-to-door-and-back.
Almost as patient
as a sundial,
I understand
what love can't,
and forgive
as love never would.
From a rendezvous to a letter
is just a few days or weeks,
not an eternity.
Trips with them always go smoothly,
concerts are heard,
cathedrals visited,
scenery is seen.
And when seven hills and rivers
come between us,
the hills and rivers
can be found on any map.
They deserve the credit
if I live in three dimensions,
in nonlyrical and nonrhetorical space
with a genuine, shifting horizon.
They themselves don't realize
how much they hold in their empty hands.
"I don't owe them a thing,"
would be love's answer
to this open question.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
BREAKING NEWS: London Olympics Security Penetrated by Galway Whooker
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.
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.
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.
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
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Colonized by Corporations
Colonized by Corporations
By Chris Hedges
By Chris Hedges
May 14, 2012 "Information Clearing House" -- In Robert E. Gamer’s book “The Developing Nations” is a chapter called “Why Men Do Not Revolt.” In it Gamer notes that although the oppressed often do revolt, the object of their hostility is misplaced. They vent their fury on a political puppet, someone who masks colonial power, a despised racial or ethnic group or an apostate within their own political class. The useless battles serve as an effective mask for what Gamer calls the “patron-client” networks that are responsible for the continuity of colonial oppression. The squabbles among the oppressed, the political campaigns between candidates who each are servants of colonial power, Gamer writes, absolve the actual centers of power from addressing the conditions that cause the frustrations of the people. Inequities, political disenfranchisement and injustices are never seriously addressed. “The government merely does the minimum necessary to prevent those few who are prone toward political action from organizing into politically effective groups,” he writes.
Gamer and many others who study the nature of colonial rule offer the best insights into the functioning of our corporate state. We have been, like nations on the periphery of empire, colonized. We are controlled by tiny corporate entities that have no loyalty to the nation and indeed in the language of traditional patriotism are traitors. They strip us of our resources, keep us politically passive and enrich themselves at our expense. The mechanisms of control are familiar to those whom the Martinique-born French psychiatrist and writer Frantz Fanon called “the wretched of the earth,” including African-Americans. The colonized are denied job security. Incomes are reduced to subsistence level. The poor are plunged into desperation. Mass movements, such as labor unions, are dismantled. The school system is degraded so only the elites have access to a superior education. Laws are written to legalize corporate plunder and abuse, as well as criminalize dissent. And the ensuing fear and instability—keenly felt this past weekend by the more than 200,000 Americans who lost their unemployment benefits—ensure political passivity by diverting all personal energy toward survival. It is an old, old game.
A change of power does not require the election of a Mitt Romney or a Barack Obama or a Democratic majority in Congress, or an attempt to reform the system or electing progressive candidates, but rather a destruction of corporate domination of the political process—Gamer’s “patron-client” networks. It requires the establishment of new mechanisms of governance to distribute wealth and protect resources, to curtail corporate power, to cope with the destruction of the ecosystem and to foster the common good. But we must first recognize ourselves as colonial subjects. We must accept that we have no effective voice in the way we are governed. We must accept the hollowness of electoral politics, the futility of our political theater, and we must destroy the corporate structure itself.
The danger the corporate state faces does not come from the poor. The poor, those Karl Marx dismissed as the Lumpenproletariat, do not mount revolutions, although they join them and often become cannon fodder. The real danger to the elite comes fromdéclassé intellectuals, those educated middle-class men and women who are barred by a calcified system from advancement. Artists without studios or theaters, teachers without classrooms, lawyers without clients, doctors without patients and journalists without newspapers descend economically. They become, as they mingle with the underclass, a bridge between the worlds of the elite and the oppressed. And they are the dynamite that triggers revolt.
This is why the Occupy movement frightens the corporate elite. What fosters revolution is not misery, but the gap between what people expect from their lives and what is offered. This is especially acute among the educated and the talented. They feel, with much justification, that they have been denied what they deserve. They set out to rectify this injustice. And the longer the injustice festers, the more radical they become.
The response of a dying regime—and our corporate regime is dying—is to employ increasing levels of force, and to foolishly refuse to ameliorate the chronic joblessness, foreclosures, mounting student debt, lack of medical insurance and exclusion from the centers of power. Revolutions are fueled by an inept and distant ruling class that perpetuates political paralysis. This ensures its eventual death.
In every revolutionary movement I covered in Latin America, Africa and the Middle East, the leadership emerged from déclassé intellectuals. The leaders were usually young or middle-aged, educated and always unable to meet their professional and personal aspirations. They were never part of the power elite, although often their parents had been. They were conversant in the language of power as well as the language of oppression. It is the presence of large numbers of déclassé intellectuals that makes the uprisings in Spain, Egypt, Greece and finally the United States threatening to the overlords at Goldman Sachs, ExxonMobil and JPMorgan Chase. They must face down opponents who understand, in a way the uneducated often do not, the lies disseminated on behalf of corporations by the public relations industry. These déclassé intellectuals, because they are conversant in economics and political theory, grasp that those who hold power, real power, are not the elected mandarins in Washington but the criminal class on Wall Street.
This is what made Malcolm X so threatening to the white power structure. He refused to countenance Martin Luther King’s fiction that white power and white liberals would ever lift black people out of economic squalor. King belatedly came to share Malcolm’s view. Malcolm X named the enemy. He exposed the lies. And until we see the corporate state, and the games it is playing with us, with the same kind of clarity, we will be nothing more than useful idiots.
“This is an era of hypocrisy,” Malcolm X said. “When white folks pretend that they want Negroes to be free, and Negroes pretend to white folks that they really believe that white folks want ’em to be free, it’s an era of hypocrisy, brother. You fool me and I fool you. You pretend that you’re my brother and I pretend that I really believe you believe you’re my brother.”
Those within a demoralized ruling elite, like characters in a Chekhov play, increasingly understand that the system that enriches and empowers them is corrupt and decayed. They become cynical. They do not govern effectively. They retreat into hedonism. They no longer believe their own rhetoric. They devote their energies to stealing and exploiting as much, as fast, as possible. They pillage their own institutions, as we have seen with the newly disclosed loss of $2 billion within JPMorgan Chase, the meltdown of Chesapeake Energy Corp. or the collapse of Enron and Lehman Brothers. The elites become cannibals. They consume each other. This is what happens in the latter stages of all dying regimes. Louis XIV pillaged his own nobility by revoking patents of nobilityand reselling them. It is what most corporations do to their shareholders. A dying ruling class, in short, no longer acts to preserve its own longevity. It becomes fashionable, even in the rarefied circles of the elite, to ridicule and laugh at the political puppets that are the public face of the corporate state.
“Ideas that have outlived their day may hobble about the world for years,” Alexander Herzen wrote, “but it is hard for them ever to lead and dominate life. Such ideas never gain complete possession of a man, or they gain possession only of incomplete people."
This loss of faith means that when it comes time to use force, the elites employ it haphazardly and inefficiently, in large part because they are unsure of the loyalty of the foot soldiers on the streets charged with carrying out repression.
Revolutions take time. The American Revolution began with protests against the Stamp Act of 1765 but did not erupt until a decade later. The 1917 revolution in Russia started with a dress rehearsal in 1905. The most effective revolutions, including the Russian Revolution, have been largely nonviolent. There are always violent radicals who carry out bombings and assassinations, but they hinder, especially in the early stages, more than help revolutions. The anarchist Peter Kropotkin during the Russian Revolution condemned the radical terrorists, asserting that they only demoralized and frightened away the movement’s followers and discredited authentic anarchism.
Radical violent groups cling like parasites to popular protests. The Black Panthers, the American Indian Movement, the Weather Underground, the Red Brigades and the Symbionese Liberation Army arose in the ferment of the 1960s. Violent radicals are used by the state to justify harsh repression. They scare the mainstream from the movement. They thwart the goal of all revolutions, which is to turn the majority against an isolated and discredited ruling class. These violent fringe groups are seductive to those who yearn for personal empowerment through hyper-masculinity and violence, but they do little to advance the cause. The primary role of radical extremists, such as Maximilien Robespierre and Vladimir Lenin, is to hijack successful revolutions. They unleash a reign of terror, primarily against fellow revolutionaries, which often outdoes the repression of the old regime. They often do not play much of a role in building a revolution.
The power of the Occupy movement is that it expresses the widespread disgust with the elites, and the deep desire for justice and fairness that is essential to all successful revolutionary movements. The Occupy movement will change and mutate, but it will not go away. It may appear to make little headway, but this is less because of the movement’s ineffectiveness and more because decayed systems of power have an amazing ability to perpetuate themselves through habit, routine and inertia. The press and organs of communication, along with the anointed experts and academics, tied by money and ideology to the elites, are useless in dissecting what is happening within these movements. They view reality through the lens of their corporate sponsors. They have no idea what is happening.
Dying regimes are chipped away slowly and imperceptibly. The assumptions and daily formalities of the old system are difficult for citizens to abandon, even when the old system is increasingly hostile to their dignity, well-being and survival. Supplanting an old faith with a new one is the silent, unseen battle of all revolutionary movements. And during the slow transition it is almost impossible to measure progress.
“Sometimes people hold a core belief that is very strong,” Fanon wrote in “Black Skin, White Masks.” “When they are presented with evidence that works against that belief, the new evidence cannot be accepted. It would create a feeling that is extremely uncomfortable, called cognitive dissonance. And because it is so important to protect the core belief, they will rationalize, ignore and even deny anything that doesn’t fit in with the core belief.”
The end of these regimes comes when old beliefs die and the organs of security, especially the police and military, abandon the elites and join the revolutionaries. This is true in every successful revolution. It does not matter how sophisticated the repressive apparatus. Once those who handle the tools of repression become demoralized, the security and surveillance state is impotent. Regimes, when they die, are like a great ocean liner sinking in minutes on the horizon. And no one, including the purported leaders of the opposition, can predict the moment of death. Revolutions have an innate, mysterious life force that defies comprehension. They are living entities.
The defection of the security apparatus is often done with little or no violence, as I witnessed in Eastern Europe in 1989 and as was also true in 1979 in Iran and in 1917 in Russia. At other times, when it has enough residual force to fight back, the dying regime triggers a violent clash as it did in the American Revolution when soldiers and officers in the British army, including George Washington, rebelled to raise the Continental Army. Violence also characterized the 1949 Chinese revolution led by Mao Zedong. But even revolutions that turn violent succeed, as Mao conceded, because they enjoy popular support and can mount widespread protests, strikes, agitation, revolutionary propaganda and acts of civil disobedience. The object is to try to get there without violence. Armed revolutions, despite what the history books often tell us, are tragic, ugly, frightening and sordid affairs. Those who storm Bastilles, as the Polish dissident Adam Michnik wrote, “unwittingly build new ones.” And once revolutions turn violent it becomes hard to speak of victors and losers.
A revolution has been unleashed across the globe. This revolution, a popular repudiation of the old order, is where we should direct all our energy and commitment. If we do not topple the corporate elites the ecosystem will be destroyed and massive numbers of human beings along with it. The struggle will be long. There will be times when it will seem we are going nowhere. Victory is not inevitable. But this is our best and only hope. The response of the corporate state will ultimately determine the parameters and composition of rebellion. I pray we replicate the 1989 nonviolent revolutions that overthrew the communist regimes in Eastern Europe. But this is not in my hands or yours. Go ahead and vote this November. But don’t waste any more time or energy on the presidential election than it takes to get to your polling station and pull a lever for a third-party candidate—just enough to register your obstruction and defiance—and then get back out onto the street. That is where the question of real power is being decided.
Chris Hedges writes a regular column for Truthdig.com. Hedges graduated from Harvard Divinity School and was for nearly two decades a foreign correspondent for The New York Times.
This article was first published at Truth Dig
© 2012 TruthDig.com
Monday, May 14, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
EURO SLAVERY Christy Moore
How Soon Do Empires Forget The Lessons of History!
The 67th Anniversary of the Victory over Nazi-Fascism
By Fidel Castro
May 11, 2012 "Information Clearing House" -- No political event can be judged outside of the era and the circumstances in which it took place. No one even knows one percent of the fabulous history of Man; but thanks to history, we know about occurrences that go beyond the limits of the imaginable.
The privilege of having known persons, even the locations where some of the events related to the historic battle took place, augmented the interest with which I awaited the anniversary this year.
The colossal deed was fruit of the heroism of a group of peoples that the revolution and socialism had united and intertwined to put an end to the brutal exploitation that the world had been putting up with throughout the millennia. The Russians were always proud of having headed that revolution and of the sacrifices they were capable of in bringing it to fruition.
This very important anniversary of the victory could not be understood under the colours of a flag or a name other than the one that presided over the heroism of the combatants of the Great Patriotic War. Without a doubt, something untouchable and unforgettable remained: the anthem whose unforgettable notes accompanied millions of men and women to challenge death and to crush the invaders who wished to impose a thousand years of Nazism and holocaust on all humanity.
With those ideas in mind, I enjoyed the hours I dedicated to the most organized and martial procession I could ever imagine, whose protagonists were men formed in the Russian military universities.
The Yankees and the blood-thirsty NATO armies could not imagine that the crimes committed in Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya, the attacks on Pakistan and Syria, the threats against Iran and other Middle Eastern countries, the military bases in Latin America, Africa and Asia could take place with absolute impunity, without the world becoming aware of the unusual and crazy threat.
How soon do empires forget the lessons of history!
The military technology exhibited in Moscow on May 9th demonstrated the impressive capacity of the Russian Federation to provide a proper and varied response to the conventional and nuclear resources of imperialism.
It was just the ceremony we were waiting for on the glorious anniversary of the Soviet victory over fascism.
Fidel Castro Ruz - May 10, 2012
By Fidel Castro
May 11, 2012 "Information Clearing House" -- No political event can be judged outside of the era and the circumstances in which it took place. No one even knows one percent of the fabulous history of Man; but thanks to history, we know about occurrences that go beyond the limits of the imaginable.
The privilege of having known persons, even the locations where some of the events related to the historic battle took place, augmented the interest with which I awaited the anniversary this year.
The colossal deed was fruit of the heroism of a group of peoples that the revolution and socialism had united and intertwined to put an end to the brutal exploitation that the world had been putting up with throughout the millennia. The Russians were always proud of having headed that revolution and of the sacrifices they were capable of in bringing it to fruition.
This very important anniversary of the victory could not be understood under the colours of a flag or a name other than the one that presided over the heroism of the combatants of the Great Patriotic War. Without a doubt, something untouchable and unforgettable remained: the anthem whose unforgettable notes accompanied millions of men and women to challenge death and to crush the invaders who wished to impose a thousand years of Nazism and holocaust on all humanity.
With those ideas in mind, I enjoyed the hours I dedicated to the most organized and martial procession I could ever imagine, whose protagonists were men formed in the Russian military universities.
The Yankees and the blood-thirsty NATO armies could not imagine that the crimes committed in Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya, the attacks on Pakistan and Syria, the threats against Iran and other Middle Eastern countries, the military bases in Latin America, Africa and Asia could take place with absolute impunity, without the world becoming aware of the unusual and crazy threat.
How soon do empires forget the lessons of history!
The military technology exhibited in Moscow on May 9th demonstrated the impressive capacity of the Russian Federation to provide a proper and varied response to the conventional and nuclear resources of imperialism.
It was just the ceremony we were waiting for on the glorious anniversary of the Soviet victory over fascism.
Fidel Castro Ruz - May 10, 2012
Is The United States An Accidental Empire?
By The Globalist
By The Globalist
May 10, 2012 "Information Clearing House" -- The United States was born out of a struggle against an imperial power. Beginning in the 1840s — seven decades after its founding — it embarked on a succession of "wars of choice" that were profoundly at odds with its founding principles and left it with an empire of its own. This inaugural "Thomas Paine" column looks at how American changed — and how its empire is handicapping its future.
Our present predicament didn't happen overnight. It was a long time in the making. Along the way, America changed. We forsook our birthright, we deceived ourselves and, ever so slowly, our loadstar changed from liberty to force. When it was all over, we woke up and had an empire.
The United States broke with the foreign policy of its Founders in three wars of choice. We used guns to annex two-fifths of Mexico. We used guns to remove Spain from its colonies in the Caribbean and the Philippines. We used guns to replace Germany as the leading military power in Europe.
In the seven decades between the start of the Mexican-American war in 1848 and America entering World War I in 1917, the die was cast.
We didn't go to war with Mexico, Spain and Germany to defend ourselves. President James Polk proclaimed it was our Manifest Destiny to redraw our southern border to include almost half of Mexico. Likewise, President McKinley thought it was our Manifest Destiny to replace Spain as a colonial power in Cuba and the Philippines. In World War I, President Woodrow Wilson repackaged Manifest Destiny as saving the world for democracy.
War no longer needed to be justified as defending our country. War was now justified as promoting democracy around the world. Americans were now a force for good in the world.
The U.S. Constitution was subverted in the wars against Mexico, Spain and Germany. Yes, Congress declared war in the Mexican-American War, the Spanish-American War and World War I. But the legitimacy of the congressional declaration was undermined by Presidential lies:
Americans weren't attacked on American soil, as President Polk claimed. In fact, volunteer American soldiers were attacked on Mexican soil.
The Spanish didn't sink our ship in Havana, as President McKinley claimed.
The Germans sunk our ship, but President Wilson didn't mention the American guns on board which violated our declared neutrality. Wilson's Secretary of State resigned in protest.
Each of these presidential lies was an impeachable offense. There were no impeachment proceedings. We just looked the other way.
These three wars of choice redefined American exceptionalism into something very different from what the Founders intended. We were no longer exceptional because of our unique form of government. The federal government no longer existed to protect the sovereignty of the individual.
The government now existed to promote democracy abroad. Never mind that the American republic was never a democracy. (The Constitution established a republic. The Founders rejected democracy because it didn't protect the individual from the tyranny of the majority.)
Each war of choice made the next one easier. President Polk's decision to take the country to war against Mexico made President McKinley's decision to go to war against Spain seem less unreasonable. It is hard to imagine President Wilson taking the country to war against Germany if Polk and McKinley hadn't gotten their wars.
Now the Constitution was turned upside down. We were set on a trajectory that turned the government against citizens. Wilson tolerated no war dissent and severely limited civil liberties.
We could have turned back to the foreign policy of the Founders. Mexico was no existential threat to the United States. But the war was popular and Polk gave the people what they wanted and made the country richer. We could have stopped there.
The little war with Spain was avoidable, too. But that war was also popular, cost-free and journalism became an accomplice in war. We could have stopped there. But wars of choice had become a habit for ambitious Presidents — and Wilson was ambitious.
Wilson's decision to take the country to war against Germany was far-reaching. The rapid rise of Germany was a reality that the major powers in Europe had to recognize. The Germans built an economy greater in size than the combined economies of France, England and Russia. Rather than let the Europeans find their own solution, Wilson decided to enter into an "entangling alliance" against Germany.
Unlike the two earlier wars of choice, World War I became unpopular at home. Fifty-thousand Americans gave their lives to fight the Kaiser. Clemenceau and Lloyd George ran circles around Wilson at the Versailles peace conference. Wilson lost the peace and the Versailles Treaty was rejected by the U.S. Senate.
Our present predicament didn't happen overnight. It was a long time in the making. Along the way, America changed. We forsook our birthright, we deceived ourselves and, ever so slowly, our loadstar changed from liberty to force. When it was all over, we woke up and had an empire.
The United States broke with the foreign policy of its Founders in three wars of choice. We used guns to annex two-fifths of Mexico. We used guns to remove Spain from its colonies in the Caribbean and the Philippines. We used guns to replace Germany as the leading military power in Europe.
In the seven decades between the start of the Mexican-American war in 1848 and America entering World War I in 1917, the die was cast.
We didn't go to war with Mexico, Spain and Germany to defend ourselves. President James Polk proclaimed it was our Manifest Destiny to redraw our southern border to include almost half of Mexico. Likewise, President McKinley thought it was our Manifest Destiny to replace Spain as a colonial power in Cuba and the Philippines. In World War I, President Woodrow Wilson repackaged Manifest Destiny as saving the world for democracy.
War no longer needed to be justified as defending our country. War was now justified as promoting democracy around the world. Americans were now a force for good in the world.
The U.S. Constitution was subverted in the wars against Mexico, Spain and Germany. Yes, Congress declared war in the Mexican-American War, the Spanish-American War and World War I. But the legitimacy of the congressional declaration was undermined by Presidential lies:
Americans weren't attacked on American soil, as President Polk claimed. In fact, volunteer American soldiers were attacked on Mexican soil.
The Spanish didn't sink our ship in Havana, as President McKinley claimed.
The Germans sunk our ship, but President Wilson didn't mention the American guns on board which violated our declared neutrality. Wilson's Secretary of State resigned in protest.
Each of these presidential lies was an impeachable offense. There were no impeachment proceedings. We just looked the other way.
These three wars of choice redefined American exceptionalism into something very different from what the Founders intended. We were no longer exceptional because of our unique form of government. The federal government no longer existed to protect the sovereignty of the individual.
The government now existed to promote democracy abroad. Never mind that the American republic was never a democracy. (The Constitution established a republic. The Founders rejected democracy because it didn't protect the individual from the tyranny of the majority.)
Each war of choice made the next one easier. President Polk's decision to take the country to war against Mexico made President McKinley's decision to go to war against Spain seem less unreasonable. It is hard to imagine President Wilson taking the country to war against Germany if Polk and McKinley hadn't gotten their wars.
Now the Constitution was turned upside down. We were set on a trajectory that turned the government against citizens. Wilson tolerated no war dissent and severely limited civil liberties.
We could have turned back to the foreign policy of the Founders. Mexico was no existential threat to the United States. But the war was popular and Polk gave the people what they wanted and made the country richer. We could have stopped there.
The little war with Spain was avoidable, too. But that war was also popular, cost-free and journalism became an accomplice in war. We could have stopped there. But wars of choice had become a habit for ambitious Presidents — and Wilson was ambitious.
Wilson's decision to take the country to war against Germany was far-reaching. The rapid rise of Germany was a reality that the major powers in Europe had to recognize. The Germans built an economy greater in size than the combined economies of France, England and Russia. Rather than let the Europeans find their own solution, Wilson decided to enter into an "entangling alliance" against Germany.
Unlike the two earlier wars of choice, World War I became unpopular at home. Fifty-thousand Americans gave their lives to fight the Kaiser. Clemenceau and Lloyd George ran circles around Wilson at the Versailles peace conference. Wilson lost the peace and the Versailles Treaty was rejected by the U.S. Senate.
World War I made World War II inevitable. Wilson's war of choice created Roosevelt's war of necessity. The French and English demanded onerous reparations from Germany. The ensuing inflation destroyed the Germany economy. Hitler rose to power by exploiting the political backlash inside Germany. The Second World War was a continuation of the unfinished business of the First.
World War II laid the foundation for an American empire. Six million Jews and 30 million Russians perished. This led to the creation of Israel and the outbreak of the Cold War. The United States took over British bases around the globe, and our forward presence gave impetus to bin Laden, 9/11 and the permanent war on terrorism.
The 120 million who perished in these 20th-century conflicts died mostly because of the failure of the existing major powers to accommodate the new strength of Germany on the European continent.
The solutions to yesterday's problems create today's problems. We live with the choices made by those who went before us. Looking back, Woodrow Wilson was the worst President in American history: His intervention in the First World War was the equivalent of a European power coming to the United States during the Civil War and saying South wins, North loses.
Now the Germans are back in the driver's seat in Europe. The Germans are once again dominating the economy of Europe. The United States is sidelined by the weakness of our economy and our staggering debt. We have lost our way and don't know how to get out of the empire business.
This article was first published at The Globalist
Poverty in Ireland: the facts
Submitted by cboyd on April 25, 2012 - 10:55
Ordinary people hardly need to be told that times are tough. Irish living standards have been absolutely decimated over the last four years and now we have the statistical evidence to prove it.
According to the Central Statistics Office Survey on Incomes and Living Conditions (SILC) for example, around 250,000 Irish people are now living in consistent poverty.
This is up by over 50% from the 160,000 deemed to be in absolute poverty in 2009 as a combination of welfare cuts and service reductions take their toll on the most vulnerable.
Alongside absolute poverty, around 1 million Irish people (23%) now experience some form of deprivation.
Deprivation occurs when someone has a lack of basic necessities at least once during the course of a year.
This can happen across the board, but children are particularly vulnerable with one in five kids going to school hungry on a consistent basis.
Perhaps the most shocking statistic to come out of the SILC report concerns the growing gap between rich and poor.
The elites in this country have been very good at pleading poverty.
But the SILC report tells a very different story, with the top 10% of Irish households actually increasing their disposable income by 8% since 2009 at the same time as the poorest 10% lost 26% of their disposable income.
This truly is a case of the rich getting rich at the expense of the poor and a second study carried out by Social Justice Ireland has found similar results.
The headline figure in the Social Justice report found that there are over 700,000 Irish people in poverty.
This is defined as having less than €10,000 for a single person or €24,000 for a family of four, and it comes in the same month as the Sunday Times Rich List revealed that Ireland’s richest 300 people increased their wealth by €12,000 million over the course of two years.
From an average of around €165 million per person each of these people now has around €210 million.
Every cut to schools, hospitals and welfare could have been avoided if these incredibly rich people had been forced to contribute to the welfare of society.
Instead our children’s futures are daily being sacrificed so that the mega rich can continue to accumulate.
April 25, 2012 - 10:53
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