P J Harvey releases Guantanamo Protest Song for Shaker Aamer

                                

Pj Harvey last Saturday released a new song to highlight the ongoing detention of the last British resident held inside the US prison at Guantanamo Bay.
The track, called Shaker Aamer, is available to stream  on behalf of the campaigning group Reprieve, which you can find a link for here:-
http://www.reprieve.org.uk/
It follows her politically charged album from 2001 'Let England Shake' which explored the horrors of war, and continues to cement her reputation as one of Britains finest songwriters. This new song describes the agony of it's title subjects four month hunger strike as he endures the prison's feeding tubes, restraining chairs and shackles.
Aamer has been detained in Guantanamo for more than 11 years , despite being cleared for release in 2007, and remains imprisoned without charge or trial. He has a British wife and his four children - the youngest of whome he has never met - were all born in Britain. They live in Tooting, south London.
The British government has repeatedly stated that it wants him back in the UK and only last week under mounting international pressure , the US announced it is to restart transfers from the prison. Concerns remain, though , that Aamer might be forced to be sent to Saudi Arabia and imprisoned there instead of being reunited with the family in the UK.
More than half the detainess inside Guantanamo Bay remain on hunger strike in protest at their indefinite and illegal detention. Aamer has recently alleged that prison guards had been sexually assaulting him and that he is subject daily to often violent 'forced cell extractions'.
Aamers lawyer : Clive Stafford Smith , Reprieves director and Aamers lawyer, said " We hope people listen to this song and think about Shaker Aamer's plight: detained for 11 years, without charge or trial, despite having been cleared for release by both Bush and Obama."
" The UK government must do everything it can to bring Shaker back home to his wife and kids in London, where he belongs. PJ Harvey has written a wonderful song - I know Shaker will be deeply moved by it, and hope that, with the support of the public, he will one day be able to listen to it in freedom."
 Here is a link to a Shaker Aamer campaigning group, which will lead to various petitions and campaigns conducted on his behalf:-
http://www.saveshaker.org/

Shaker Aamer

No water, for three days.
I cannot sleep, or stay awake.

Four months hunger strike.
Am I dead, or am I alive?

With metal tubes we are force fed.
I honestly wish I was dead.

Strapped in the restraining chair.
Shaker aamer, your friend.

In Camp 5 eleven years.
Never charged. Six years cleared.

They took away my one note pad,
and then refused to give it back.

i can't think straight, I write, then stop,
Your friend Shaker Aamer. Lost.

the guards just do what they're told,
the doctors just do what they're told.

Like an old car i'm rusting away.
You're friend Shaker, Guantanamo Bay.

Visiting Hiroshima - Marcel Junod (14/5/04 -16/6/61)

Today marks the anniversary of the devastating effects of the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima, which killed between 70,000 and 80,000 people and injured more than 70,000 others.
For many across the globe, it is an anniversary that we sadly cannot forget.
Ceremonies are held internationally to commemorate the victims and to remind humanity of the horrors of war and the evil of nuclear weapons. We should not be aloud to forget this war crime, for that is what this action was.
Marcel Junod was a Swiss red cross doctor who was one of the first foreign doctors to reach hiroshima, treating many of the bombing survivors and injured people. The following is an extract from his own personal harrowing account.

' The bare cone of Fuijiiama was just visible on the horizon as we flew over the 'inland sea' which lay beneath us like a lavender-blue carpet picked out in green and yellow with its numerous promontories and wooded islands...
Towards midday, a huge white patch appeared on the ground below us. This chalky desert, looking around like ivory in the sun, surrounded by a crumble of twisted ironwork and ash heaps, was all that remained of Hiroshima...
The journalist described the main official buildings of the town, which waere built of reinforced concrete and dominated a sea of low-rooted Japanese houses extending over six miles to the wooded hills I could see in the distance.
'The town was not much damaged,' he explained. 'It had suffered very little from the bombing. There were only two minor raids, one on March  19th last by a squadron of American naval planes, and one on April 30th by a Flying Fortress.
'On August 6th there wasn't a clod in the sky above Hiroshima, and a mild, hardly perceptible wind blew from the south. Visibility was almost perfect for ten or twelve miles.
'At nine minutes past seven in the morning an air-raid warning sounded and four American B-29 planes appeared. To the north of the town, two of them turned and made off to the south, and dissapeared in the direction of the Shoho Sea. The other two, after having circled the neighbourhood of Shukai, flew off at high speed southwards in the direction of the Bingo Sea.
At 7.31 the all-clear was given. Feeling themselves in safety people came out of their shelters and went about their affairs and the work of the day began.
'Suddenly a glaring whitish pinkish light appeared in the sky accompanied by an unnatural tremor which was followed almost immediately by a wave of suffocating heat and a wind which swept away everything in its path.
'Within a few seconds the thousands of people in the streets and the gardens in the centre of the town were scorched by a wave of searing heat.
Many were killed instantly, others lay writhing on the ground screaming in agony from the intolerable pain of their burns. Everything standing upright in the way of the blast, walls, houses, factories and other buildings, was annihilated and the debris spun round in a whirlwind and was carried up ino the air. Trams were picked up and tossed aside as thogh they had neither weight nor solidity. Trains were flung off the rails as though they were toys. Horses, dogs and cattle suffered the same fate as human beings. Every living thing was petrified in an attitude of indescibable suffering. Even the vegetation did not escape. Trees went up in the flames, the rice plants lost their greeness, the grass burned on the ground like dry straw.
'Beyond the zone of utter death in which nothing remained alive houses collapsed in a whirl of beams, bricks and girders. Up to almost three miles from the centre of the explosion lightly built houses were flattened as though they had been built of cardboard. Those who were inside wwere either killed or wounded. Those who managed to extricate themselves by some miracle found themselves surrounded by a ring of fire. And the few who succeeded in making their way to safety generally died twenty or thirty days later from the delayed effects of the deadly gamma rays. Some of the reinforced concrete or stione buildings remained standing but their interiors were completely gutted by the blast.
'About half an hour after the explosion whilst the sky all around Hiroshima was still cloudless a fine rain began to fall on the town and went on for about five minutes. It was caused by the sudden rise of over-heated air to a great height, where it condensed and fell back as rain. Then a violent wind rose and the fires extended with terrible rapidity, beacause most Japanese houses are built only of timber and straw.
'By the evening the fire began to die down and then it went out. There was nothing left to burn. Hiroshima had ceased to exist.'
The Japanes broke off and then pronounced one word with idescibable but restrained emotion: 'Look.'
About two and a half miles from the centre of the town all the buildings had been burnt out and destroyed. Only traces of the foundations and piles of debris and rusty charred ironwork were left. This zone was like the devastated areas of Tokyo, Osaka and Kobe after the mass fall of incendiaries.
At three-quarters of a mile from the centre of the explosion nothing at all was left. Everything haddissapeared. It was a stony waste littered with debris and twisted girders. The inccandescent breath of the fire had swept away every obstacle and all that remained upright were one or two fragments of stone walls and a few stoves which had remained inconcrously on their base.
We got out of the car and made our way through the ruins into the centre of the dead city. Absolute silence reigned in the whole necropolis.

9 September, 1945

REPRINTED FROM:
Warrior without Weapons - Marcel Junod,
Cape 1951

For years the American government refused to release images and photographs, such was the sheer horror that they did not want the world to Know.
Those who did not get incarcented on the spot, were to be traumatised for the rest of their lives. Hiroshima and Later Nagasaki are  remembered  today as the most deadliest slaughter of modern civilains in modern history.
Hibakusha is a term widely used in Japan , that refers to the victims of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, it translates as 'explosion effected/ Survivor of the Light. This post is dedicated to them and and  to all who were less fortunate.
Hiroshima now stands again, but  68 years laters reminds us why the world needs to get rid of  the madness  of nuclear weapons and proliferation, once and for all.

DEATH IN LONDON : Stop the Arms Fair

28,000 arms buyers and sellers are due to arrive in London in September, but we want to be there to stop them.
Please order postcards and posters if you can spread the word.
Put Sunday 8th September down for massive day of action.
http://www.stopthearmsfair.org.uk/order-leaflets-to-stop-the-arms-fair/

Garry Davies (27/7/1921-24/7/2013) World Citizen of No Borders R.I.P

Peace activist Garry Davies, who dramatically renounced his U.S citizenship in the dark days of the Cold War and founded a government for self declared 'world citizens' like himself has died. He would have been 92 last Saturday. On May 25th 1948, this former United States B-17 bomber pilot and broadway star entered the American Embassy in Paris,because of his own negative view of his own actions in the war, renounced his American citizenship and as astonished officials looked on, declared himself a citizen of the world . In 65 years after that until the end of his long life last week, he remained by choice a stateless man - entering and leaving, being regularly expelled from and frequently arrested in a spate of countries carrying a passport of his own devising, as the international news media chronicled his every move.
His rational was simple, his aim immense, if their were no nation states, he believed there woild be no wars. An idea he relentlessy campaigned for over many years, gaining the support of thousands of people across the globe. Garry Davis did not invent the One World movement. Philosophers and poets and emperors alike have imagined an Earth united. “As long as there are sovereign states possessing great power, war is inevitable,” wrote Albert Einstein in a letter to World Federalists in 1949. “There is no salvation for civilization or even the human race other than the creation of a world government.” These ideas also  attracted support from the likes of novelist Albert Camus and humanitarian Albert Schweitzer.
The World Passport is currently distributed by the Government of World Citizens, a self proclaimed, International Government body which he set up, that has issued documents, passports, identity cards, birth and marriage certificates and occasional postage stamps and currency. The world passport is issued to refugees and stateless people for free, and are seen by some as a political statement about borders and restrictions placed on travel.

In 2012 Davies sent wikileaks founder and refugee of Ecuadorean embassy in London - Julian Assange - a world pasport, and only weeks before he died he sent a passport to whistleblower Edward Snowdon in Moscow. And there is the probability that his hand of friendship if he had lived would have reached out to the great hero of our times Bradley Manning. 

“We are born as citizens of the world,” Davis wrote in Passport to Freedom: A Guide for World Citizens. “But we are also born into a divided world, a world of separate entities called nations. We regard each other as friends and yet we are separated by wide artificially created barriers. Whatever we may think of one another, each one of us on this planet is designated as ‘alien’ by billions of his or her fellow humans. The label applies to everyone who does not share our status as a ‘national citizen.’ And many millions of us, despite our religious, ethnic or racial kinship, are forced to wear another label: ‘enemy.’”Sadly though the world is still divided, run by nearly 200 governments, and unfortunately we still live in a very unfree world, but that does not stop us dreaming, and striving for a better one.   A person who can make her heart into a home doesn’t need a passport and already lives beyond nations. They are a map without borders.

Sieze the the Day/ Carpe Diem

( written for Lammas Day,We have festivals of hope, of love and fertility, in honour of  death and the ancestors.this is one of gratitude, of celebrating what has been achieved, an affirmation of life, halfway between Summer Solstice and Autumn Equinox.
It is the harvest of the first grain. .

I'm wishing people joy amidst the chaos, roses as well as bread. )

In this spinning cauldron of time
hold on to any chance that breaks,
return again and again, to old ideas that glow
resurrect old threads, spread messages of survival
with ink and smiles, and a glint of hope.

Release sparkles of thankfulness
grenades filled with passion,
plant seeds of disobedience across the night sky
for flowers to bloom again and again 
as the day hums with  energies emergence.

Add some portions of light and shade
chuck in shards of possibility,
as autumn whispers in the corner
the future is shaped by borderless hands
working together towards transitions transformation.

As the earth rises into new foundations
allow gardens of independence to flourish,
echoes rising among the sweet rain,
take a walk into  rich, deep dimenson
avoid the obstacles, sieze the day.

How Queen Elizabeth II profits from the arms trade

TEXT BY HEATHCOTTE WILLIAMS:

EDITING AND NARRATION BY ALAN COX

Queen Elizabeth II is one of the worlds richest women, worth £17 billion. Her investments in the arms trade includes firms that produce the uranium used in depleted uranium (DU) shells. The deployment of these shells by the US military in its attack on the Iraqi city of Fallujah in 2004, is believed to be the cause of a huge increase in cases of cancer and birth defects.

Mick Farren (3/10/34 -27/7/13) R.I.P Street Fighting Man

Sad to hear of the passing of Mick Farren, who died after collapsing at the Borderline on Saturday  night. Forever associated with the counterculture, frequently getting arrested, and being at the heart of the struggle, he  was an anarchist and singer with the band the Deviants (a new line up, of which  he was playing with when he met his final curtain), white panthers from south London in the late 1960's.
Up to his final moments he was still attacking authority, agitating and spreading subversion as militant as ever. His blog was always a pleasure to look at.http://doc40.blogspot.co.uk/. A rock n'roller in the truest sense of the world, releasing a number of garage infused records, that still stand the test of time, sounding as fresh as ever, his 1978 album Vampires Stole My lunch a personal favourite, a right derailing of the senses, a demented classic.
He was also a fine writer of fantasy/horror writing, as well as being a critic, and cultural journalist , having witten for the N.M.E  and the International Times back in the day.
His autobiographical book  'Give the Anarchist a Cigarette '  is well worth checking out.
A truly iconic character, who lived his life to the full. He will be missed.

Mick Farren - The Battle for Grovenor Square

The Deviants - Let's loot the Supermarkets

The Deviants -Screwed Up

Mick Farren - I want a drink

G4S Profiteers of Palestinian Suffering

A British Company with it's fingers in wars everywhere. A London demonstration July 22 2013.

'After extracting confessions under torture, five of the Hares boys were charged with 25 counts of attempted murder even though there were only four people in the car. Apparently the military court had decided that 25 stones were thrown, each with an 'intent to kill'. The five boys - Ali Shmlawi, Mohammed Klieib, Mohammed Sileman, Tamer Souf and Ammar Souf are currently locked up in another G4S security facility - Magiddo prison where G4S provides the entire central command room.

If you look above you will catch a rare glimpse of teifidancer,out in the wild, who is at least free.

http://haresboys.wordpress.com/

http://www.inminds.com/caged/

Ursula K. Le Guin (b.21/10/29) - The Dispossessed and some poems.

                                
                                 Picture by Benjamin Reed

American. One of my favourite writers  A daughter of an anthropologist and a writer. Organised and took part in non-violent demonstrations against atomic bomb testing and the war in Vietnam.Over the years her frequent critiques of  state  power, coupled with her rejection of capitalism and a fascination with alternative systems of political economy, place her within the anarchist tradition. An imaginative, questioning mind, now in her  eighties , still creating and pushing boundaries,battling the system, a fine writer of poetry too,which she has been writing since 1959. Her poems are both earthy and transcendent, humourous too with a bite, the fruits of of over a half century writing.
Ther following is  from one of her many science- fiction novels, The Dispossessed,  a very interesting book that explores how an anarchist society would work. A vivid portrait of an anarchist utopia. A society without  government, laws police, courts , corporations, money, salaries, profit, organised religion or private property. Shrevek is the first traveller from Anarres, a moon settled 200 years previously by anarchist exiles, to visit Urras, the mother planet. Atro is a physicist on Urras.
Following this I have included three fine poems from her.

Click on image to enlarge

' Atro had once explained too him how this was managed, how the sergeants could give the privates orders, how the lieutenants could, give the privates and the sergeants orders, how the liutenants could, give the privates and the sergeants orders, how the captains . . . and so on and so on up to the generals, who could give everyone else orders and need take them from none, except the Commander in Chief. Shevek had listenened with incredulous disgusr ' You call that organisation? he had inquired. ' Yu even call it discipline? But it is neither. It is a coercive mechanism of extraordinary inefficiency - a kind of seventh millenium steam engine! With such a rigid and fragile structure what could be done that was worth doing? This had given Atro a chance to argue the worth of warfarevas the breeder of courage and manliness and the weeder out of the unfit; but the very line of his argument had forced him to concede the effectivesness of guerillas, organised from below, self-disiplined. ' But that only works bwhen the people think they're fighting for something of their own, you know, their homes, or some notion or other,' the old man had said. Shrevek had dropped the argument. He now continued it, in the darkening basement among the stacked crates of unlabelled chemicals. He explained to Atro that he now understood why the army was organised as it was. It was indded quite necessary. No rational form of organisation would serve the purpose. He simply had not understood the purpose was to enable men with machine guns to kill unarmed men and women easily and in great quantities when told to do so. Only he could not see where courage, or manliness, or fitness, entered in.'

Reprinted from: The Dispossesed (1974)

High Desert

Out there, there is another way to be.
There is a rising brightness in the rock,
a singing in the silence of the tree.
Something is always moving, running free,
as quick and still as quail move in a flock.
The hills out here know a hard way to be.
I habve to listen for it patiently:
a drumming vcanter slowing to a walk,
a flutter in the silence of a tree.
The  owl's call from the rimrock changes key.
What door will open to the flicker's knock?
Out here there is another way to be,
described by the high circles of a hawk
above what hides in silence in the tree.
The cottonwoods in their simplicity
talk softly on, as hidden waters  talk
an almost silent singing in the tree
that says, here is another way to be.

CARMAGNOLE OF THE THIRTIETH OF JUNE

I will grow fingernails
to scratch the scab
that stops the sore's lips on  the scream
the pusty whistle of escape
EEEEEeeeoooooo steamboat annie  comin roun the bend
I will grow fingernails
ten feet long and walk on them like stilts
& breathe steam out of my nostrils
& split boards with my eye
                                          HAI!
don't get near me with your martial arts
unless you want to get split right down between the balls
neat as a colone's chicken
                  I got Real Bad Vibes
I have neen talking to my father
who died in 1960
he's 101 years old not feeling very perky
he get's left out of things
locked out.
                I will grow fingernails
and claw down the Lubyanka
stone by stone by stone.
                                     Yeah. Sure.
Listen, my vibrations areso bad
they're Richter  8-7
look out there in Daly City.
My toenails are growing too.
i can dig up graveyards with them
and dance on the burning ground.
I use the urns for footballs
& my tongue hangs out a yard.
I am WUMMUN, ta doody boo-bah,
but even worse than that I'm me
and feeling mean
                           God's stomach
rumbles like a drum
when I jump on it
when I dance on his chest he snores
when I dance on his giut he farts,
when I dance on his cock he comes
when I dance on his eyes he wakes and all the stones fall down
                    ashes, ashes

all fall down.

                    Get up and dance, creation!

Coast

In bed in the fist salt light
with the east ear I hear birds
waking and with the right
Ocean breaking inward from the night.

        
image by Clifford Harper

poems can be found in:-

Finding my Elegy - New and Selected Poems
- Ursula  K. Le Guin

Uncertainty?

Where are we?
Are we moving forwards or back
a bottle of red or white,
get off here, or follow the crooked lines
go faster or stop.
Simplicity versus complexity
a long night, or a longer day,
are sounds outside stronger
than those within?
Is it time time to smile or cry
get drunk on words 
or high on sighs?
Wishes of  future promise
or abandonment in the past,
do you remain silent, and afraid 
or seize the day, carry on,
speak of things, or leave unsaid 
turn the keys or lose the locks?