Simples, but their mates in the Tory press, won't tell you this. A toxic lot, money minded machine men, selfish grasping simpletons, born with some essential part of the soul missing.
Hey i'm far from perfect, but will never be a bloody tory, or remotely tory-lite.
As the piggies cry, wee, wee, wee, try to sell us their believe, and try to make us follow their roads of self destruction, avenues paved with capitalism's delusion, contained with self-fullfillment, Revolt against their messages. But please be careful, don't allow them into your home.
I'd be the first to admit , that I think the Labour Party lost it's soul years ago, but this thought has been rekindled on hearing the news that they have called on Michael 'Tarzan' Heseltine, to help advise a Labour Government, on business policy.
Some people might say, fair enough, good old Heseltine, he was one of the more level headed, responsible,so called compassionate Tory's. Sorry Labour Party,wake up, this is a multi miilionaire, whose roots, however wet he looks, run deep in the pockets of the Conservative party and big business.A political dinosaur, who I first encountered, when he was a swivel eyed loon, dressed up in military regalia, evicting harmless peace protestors at Molesworth Peace Camp, later when left in political wilderness, still to be cheered on and on, as he strode on to platforms at Tory |Party Conferences.Oh Yes, Mr Milliband, seeking advice from a real man of the people, a man who back in the day stood for all that the Labour Party supposedly did not stand for, former miners and steelworkers up and down the country must be thinking of this offer in disgust. Tarzan let me remind you, or Lord Heseltine of Thelford ( oh the nice bit, is his mum hails, from West Wales), was a deputy Prime Minister of a ruthless Tory Governmrnt that ruled for nearly two decades, while he was their he supported their right to buy policy, with whatever way you look at it, his ideology and his approach is grounded in favour of Capitalist economics, that bring no benefit to the people. He for many simply represents a living embodiment and reminder of a cruel Tory Government that neither cared nor understood who governed.
Ah but the Labour Party, not of old, for a long time now, turning ever so Tory Lite. Forget about Tarzan, it's simple, how about an effective tax rate on high earners, jail the bankers, scrap trident, offer people real jobs, appropriate training, make sure the power of capital is broken, find a heart, do not allow the deceitful whiff of big business and their friends, do your bidding. Sadly I guess, the Labour Party of today, no longer looks and searches for bold radical alternatives and policies, that we all richly deserve.
A hundred years ago today, amid the upheaval of World War 1, countless villages across the Ottoman Empire became killing fields as the desperate leadership of this region, having lost the Balkans and facing the prospect of losing its territories as well, saw an imagined threat at home. Worried that the Christian Armenian population was planning to align with Russia, the then primary enemy of the Ottoman Turks, officials embarked on what historians have called the first genocide of the 20th Century. Nearly 1.5 million Armenians were systematically killed, becoming tragically part of one of the biggest atrociies of the Great War. Initially intellectuals and community leader were rounded up, one by one, then thousands were instantly slaughtered, there were reports of mass burnings, others put in concentration camps, to be tortured and gassed, others left to die of starvation, exhaustion and disease. Rape was frequently reported too. All this occurred between 1915-1923, to further add to this misery, the great bulk of the Armenian population were forced from Armenia to Syria, where the vast majority were sent into the desert to die of thirst and hunger. This horrific moment in time has since with great shame been bitterly contested by Turkey, under President Erdogan the successor of the Ottoman Empire, who has consistently denied the word genocide, as an accurate term for what happened. Years later the issue of whether to these killings a genocide remain raw and emotional, both for the Armenians, who are descended from those killed, and the Turks, the heirs to the Ottomans. For both, the question touches as much on national identity, as it does on historical facts. Whilst at the same time for geopolitical reasons the U.S.A too, has never labelled the atrocities committed by Turkey as genocide, being close friends with Turkey, their allies in the NATO alliance. It should be noted that Robert Dole in the Senate introduced a mild resolution commemorating 1990 as the 75th anniversary of the Armenian genocide, at the time the Israeli government worked with the Turkish government to lobby against it. ( The resolution was subsequently defeated in the Senate) Obama himself, pledged in his Presidential campaign to call it genocide, but two terms into to his Presidency , he remains silent. The fact that Israel has been very strongly opposed to efforts being made to recognise the Armenian genocide, for me is really quite astonishing. Especially from a country founded in the aftermath of its own genocide, holocaust. There are growing calls from within Israel for them to finally recognise this historical fact , and not to be in denial, which would be good, since both peoples, the Armenians and the Jewish people having suffered the same fate, the same terrible tragedies. But at the end of the day the Turks are their allies, and you don't want to alienate allies, do you, because that's much too important. Israel thinks it's not their business, lets simply not talk about the Armenian holocaust, but any conciliatory offerings, I am sure will be welcomed. Sadly , too, the British government will not recognise it. Despite , that during the time of Lloyd George, in fact even Churchill himself wrote "There is no reasonable doubt that this crime was planned and executed for political purposes." He also used the phrases "Administrative Holocaust" and "clearance of race". Yet countries like Canada, Argentina, France, Greece and Russia, Poland and Switzerland where the survivors of the Armenian genocide and their descendents live have officially recognised the Armenian genocide, thus helping the process of healing. I believe the voices of the people killed and those haunted should not be forgotten, we should mark their identity, and the psychic wounds that have passed through generations. Today the anniversary will be commemorated, the date the Ottomans rounded up groups of Armenians in 1915, as the first step in what many agree was a wider plan for annhiliation. Armenians from Turkey and the diaspora are preparing to gather in Instanbul's central Taksim Square to honor the dead. A concert will feature both Armenian and Turkish musicians. Years later Hitler would use this model of genocide for his own tools for a Holocaust. Hitler and Himmler, guided by the same evil, were inspired by the Ottoman Empires own methods of quiet extermination. Mass genocidal maniacs since like Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot followed suit with their own reigns of terror and slaughter of millions. We should recognise the sad fact that Turkeys lack of contrition leaves descendents struggling to reconcile loss and renewal. It is simply implausible that we should still question the reality of this appalling terrible injustice. It is a moral necessity that we continue to condemn these massacres and ethnic cleansing of Armenians, that began on this day. To continue to deny this truth amounts to a criminal lie. We need to enshrine in our collective memory this crime against humanity, so as to ensure that it is understood, learnt and transmitted to future generations. We need to recognise the wounds that have never been able to be healed. Armenian refugee children 1915
Please consider signing the following Armenian Genocide petition
No time for music There is no time for music today, realities tears flow, that cannot be denied, remembering children, mothers, who were taken, and dragged away, words to be silenced forever, the scattering of bones. The Armenians memory, still suffering, choking, in bitter frustrated rage, echoes still screaming out over the age, the sorrow and the sadness, continuing to burn today, as people seek recognition, some form of reconciliation.
On the fourth anniversary of her death, lets remember Hazel Jane Dickens, bluegrass singer, songwriter, double bassist and guitarist. Singer of pro-union and feminist songs, a clarion vocal advocate for coal miners, working people and the downtrodden. Below she sings Joe Hill's outstanding song about Elizabeth Gurly Flynn, the original rebel girl, feminist, wobbly (Industrial Workers of the World) and activist. Hazel Jane Dickens was born June 1st 1935, in Montcalm, West Virginia, U.S.A. One of 11 children, she grew up in a family whose survival depended on the coal industry. Her father was a Baptist preacher and a forceful singer, who hauled timber to feed the household. Her brothers were miners and one of her sisters cleaned the house for a supervisor at the mines. A reluctant feminist role model, Hazel said she was originally scared to write about issues like sexism and the oppression of women. Her music was characterised by a high lonesome, singing style. If you like old time, country and bluegrass music, and a dose of left wing politics, you will probably like Hazel Dicken's work. Cultural blogger John Pietaro noted that " Dickens didn't just sing the anthems of labour, she lived them and her place on many a picket line,staring down gunfire and goon squads, embedded her to the cause." Hazel Dickens - Rebel Girll
Hazel Dickens - Fire in the Soul
Hazel Dickens - Old and in the way
Hazel Dickens and Alice Gerrard - Working Girl Blues
The earth at play again, whispers monologues of devotion, among paths of nature, freedoms creation, strong in faith, firm in love. Vapour trials, in the sky above, create residues of escape, swallows sweep through time , descend across the landscape. The smouldering garden slumbers, waking slowly, to be re-moulded, re-cast, as the day turns soft and still, mind wanders, rests in observation, watching wildflowers colour, weaving through the grass. Plants offer protection, to bright insects, dancing in the cool shade, bluebells shimmering, bursting with life, as afternoon, again is made. Ceridwen's breathe calls again, swirling and whirling, among healing herbs, scenting the air with magic, while the cauldron stirs, releasing seeds of enchantment, vibrant pulsations, to catch the heart and soul
This week we have seen the tragic loss of 400 peoples lives , dying in an attempt to reach Italy from Libya, after boat capsized. The boat was carrying about 500 people in total, according to some of the 150 survivors who were rescued. Italian coastguards intercepted 42 boats on April 12 and 13, carrying 6,500 people attempting to make the crossing to Europe.
Human beings seeking a new way of life, many driven by desperation, fleeing persecution, violence, the torture, or the threat of, fleeing from regions where human rights abuses are rife, inncents simply seeking a future. As many as 700 people have now been lost at sea this year alone. Human beings with dreams and fears in pursuit of some happiness.
Europes response has been shameful, inadequate, inhumane, and quite simply pathetic.We are after all talking about what is an injustice.
The European Union and its member states, under the guise of its Fortress Europe policies has been complicit in these tragedies to occur, again and again, leading to innocent people needlesly and shamefully dying on Europe's doorstep. A result of inhuman policies still in place today that deny access to the asylum system for refugees.
These deaths are not isolated incidents but the direct consequence of tightening our immigration policies and controls. In the face of civil war, conflict, global politics and social unrest, Europes response has been at the end of the day disgusting, with the use of practices and policies that turn a blind eye to the root causes of migration.
I do not feel we will find answers in building the walls of fortress Europe higher, what is needed is the provision of more safe and legal channels for people to access protection. For human beings to be treated with respect and dignity. The decision to close doors and build fences, means that men, women and children are forced to risk their lives and take a desperate journey across the sea. The boats will not simply stop. Ignoring the situation, will not make it go away. This is Fortress Europes daily shame.
McDonalds has come under fire after metal 'anti-homeless spikes' were installed outside one of its Leeds branches. Simply inhumane and shows a complete disregard for homeless people who struggle every day.
Homelessness is one of the worst injustices within our society, having a place to live should be a right not a privilege. These spikes show a complete disregard and lack of respect for homeless people.
McDonalds claim they were there to tackle anti-social behaviour, not target the homeless, saying they welcome all customers through their doors.
Well they have since been hit by a 70,000 strong petition still growing. By the way I would not reccommened you eating their food, it is definitely not good for your health. As disgusting to taste too, like their actions.
Sadly another truthsayer has gone, Eduardo Galeona, poet laureatte of the anti-globalisation movement, a Uruguayan writer, poet, anti-capitalist, radical author and journalist of much depth. A committed socialist, whose historical works condemned European and US colonialist exploitation of Latin America over 5 centuries, which made him a revered figure among leftists. He died aged 74 after a battle with lung cancer.
Weaving tapestries of society obscured by historians, his books ( he was a productive writer of over 30 books) presented alternative histories that gave equal weight to the suffering of the downtrodden, as to the grand achievements of better known historical figures.
Born in 1940, he turned his writing , and indeed his life, into a powerful manifesto against injustice and exploitation. As he himself put it, Galeano wrote for “the hungry, the sleepless, the rebels, the wretched of this earth.”
Nowhere is this commitment more clear than in his masterpiece, “Open Veins of Latin America.” Ever since it was published in 1971, the book has never stopped selling — and has indeed been immortalized as a Latin American monument.
Even today, it’s a required text in many social science courses around the world, including in universities. Written furiously in just 12 weeks, while military dictatorships took control of Brazil, Chile and Argentina ,“Open Veins in Latin America” denounces the systemic exploitation Latin America has historically been subject to.
In a style that was at the same time polemical irascible and accessible, Galeano exposed the hidden brutalities of colonialism and corporate globalization,– as well as the unsung beauties of the humble, the vernacular, the quotidian across Latin America.
“No computer could count the crimes that the pop culture business commits each day against the human rainbow and the human right to identity. But its devastating progress is mind-boggling. Time is emptied of history, and space no longer acknowledges the astonishing diversity of its parts. Through the mass media the owners of the world inform us all of our obligation to look at ourselves in a single mirror. "
“Whoever doesn’t have, isn’t. He who has no car or doesn’t wear designer shoes or imported perfume is only pretending to exist. Importer economy, impostor culture: we are all obliged to take the consumer’s cruise across the swirling waters of the market. Most of the passengers are swept overboard, but thanks to foreign debt the fares of those who make it are billed to us all. Loans allow the consuming minority to load themselves up with useless new things, and before everyone’s eyes the media transform into genuine needs the artificial demands the North of the world ceaselessly invents and successfully projects onto the South.”
Galeano was one of earliest writers to popularize an understanding of the structural relation between great affluence and accumulation in some parts of the globe and amongst a small stratum of society within every country, and the suffering and deprivation suffered in the vast “backyard” of this narrow but tremendous privilege: “
To turn infamies into feats, the memory of the North is divorced from the memory of the South, accumulation is detached from despoliation, opulence has nothing to do with plunder. Broken memory leads us to believe that wealth is innocent of poverty.”
He was forced to flee from Uruguay to neighboring Argentina in 1973, after he was briefly imprisoned by the recently installed military dictatorship, which banned his book Open Veins. He was blacklisted by death squads in Argentina following a military coup and tried to kill him but he fled to Spain.and survived.
Persecuted for his journalistic provocations, Galeano spoke truth to power and inspired readers to stand up to the fascist terror and militarism that had gripped so many Latin American countries for decades. An indefatigable risk-taker and provocateur, Galeano served as editor of important journals like Crisis, which he had co-founded and which focused much of its substantial intellectual energy on critiquing abuses of power in Uruguay and elsewhere in Latin America.
"We have a memory cut in pieces" he once told Democracy Now. "And I write trying to recover our real memory, the memory of humankind, what I call the human rainbow, which is much more colourful and beautiful than the other one, the other rainbow. But the human rainbow has been mutilated by machismo, racism, militarism, and a lot of other isms,who have been terribly killing our greatness, our possible greatness, our possible beauty."
The following is one of his fine poems. R.I.P
The right to dream of a better world ( El derecha a sonar)
The right to dream is a poem written and read by Eduardo Galeona.
In 1948, and again in 1976, the United Nations proclaimed long lists of human rights, but most of the worlds people still enjoy only the rights to see, hear and remain silent.
Suppose we excercise the never proclaimed right to dream? Lets set our sights above the abominations of today, to divine another possible world
I follow the start of the rising tide, sit and wait for shifting frontiers, to reset empty agenda, to seek change, as people decide for whom to vote, if they take part in the process at all. The politicians' luck is running out, on a point of flickering departure, hopefully smiles will be seen again, on every turn of the corner, if hollow policies, can be exposed, we can all be left to our own devices. We have learnt how to stand still, how to run, how to leap, though we are closely watched, we have strength in numbers, to change the status quo, but beware of paths of complacency, the jackals are outside the door, waiting patiently still to devour us all.
On Saturday 11th April 1981, Brixton was set ablaze as hundreds of local youth fought with the Metropolitan Police. The country was in recession, unemployment amongst African Caribbean members of the community was high, and the quality of housing was poor. In the week preceding the Brixton Riots, Operation Swamp 81, saw over 1,000 people ( mainly from the young black community) being stopped and searched adding to the increased frustration of the local people. Tensions were high. What happened next was to become one of the most significant outbreaks of civil disorder in 20th Century London. Police continued operating their hated 'sus' laws, where in order to stop someone, police only needed suspicion. At the time the police were exempt from the Race Relations Act, and many people targeted were from the ethnic community, which led to accusations of racial prejudice. After arrests were made tensions rose again, igniting violence which spread across the streets. The streets of Brixton became a battle zone. After police arrived in full riot gear, people started gathering to throw makeshift petrol bombs and set light to police cars. By the time hostilities had ended, over 360 ppeople had been injured, 28 premises burned and another 177 damaged and looted. The police arrested 82 people. After the riots a police enquiry was held under Lord Scarman that held that policing in a civil society can only succeed with the consent of the community. But 4 years later the Police shot Mrs Cherry Grove, , causing again disturbances in the area. There have been many many miscarriages of justice since. 34 years later there are many lessons to be learned. Police racism continues, as does unemployment and poverty. Capitalist society still suffers from a sickness that breeds ,the big criminals of the land get rich and fat, get rewarded for their crimes (ie the bankers) whilst the poorer members of our communities are stigmatised, getting poorer, punished because of the greedy. Sadly conditions in Brixton are not vastly better than over 30 years ago. Unrest can easily be fermented, when conditions on the streets are ignored. Riots that have happened since, like those seen in Brixton do not happen without a reason.
Guns of Brixton -the Clash, with collage of Brixton riots.
I happen to think that Nigel Farage is a twit of the first order. Many of his supporters though idolise him, on social media they don't seem to like any criticism, let alone any satire, despite a whole host of mishaps and blunders. I have had people trying to have a 'pop' when I have tried to spoil their gilded view.
They claim that UKIP is a libertarian party, all I see is xenophopbia, authoritarianism and the whiff of racism. But his supporters, carry on gleefuly, dancing to his chorus, carry on being misinformed , claiming media bias, and misrepresentation, but their policies are dangerous and blinkered that seek out to divide communities,demonising people , whilst creating stigma too.With their chief political philosophy being that immigrants are to blame for everything. This Is why I will personally keep taking the piss, as above Nigel Farage gets Dr Seussed. We must keep challenging their brand of intolerance, keep on questioning their point of view.
When people excuse, dismiss or are silent, about racism and hatred they contribute to the acceptance of a more racist society. We should not forget the strong connection that exists between UKIP and extreme far right fascists.
Oh Nige was said to be a bit tired a couple of days ago, after he bonded with Joey Essex, over their secret love of fish, after boarding a boat in Grimbsy.
At the end of the day, the picture below captures my feeling entirely. after hanging around with Joey he was caught standing behind the most appropriate sign. Ah a picture can help paint a thousand words.
For all the gushing plaudits and tributes dedicated to Margaret Thatcher, upon her death, she still remains an extremely divisive figure. This is because many people are still living with the dire consequences of her actions. As election time approaches, her breath and twisted ideology still lingers among all the mainstream parties.
Many of us are still unable to forgive her for the devastation she wrought to our communities, the damage she caused to our industries, our whole way of life. She fought against the miners, not giving a hoot, or an inch of compromise, then put her sights on our welfare state, whilst leaving an entire generation to be thrown on the scrapheap.
Her whole twisted ideology was to try and tear up the post 1945 consensus and privatise our public services, sell of our nationalised industries, whilst smashing up Trade Union rights, embarking on a systematic path of of destruction. Carving up the land, shifting the balance of social economic wealth between the rich and poor, very much detrimental to the latter.
Being kind, she was just a sower of destruction, not an ounce of compassion within her, a creator of mass unemployment too, a fosterer of division with her cruel policies. A liar too, about Hillsborough, who also bombed retreating ships.
While she shafted all and sundry she still managed to be friends with right wing dictators like Pinochet and P.W Botha. I can never forgive her.
She is still hated and always will be, despite her pulse stopping, her awful legacy lives on, in the toxicity that is Tony Blair who called her after her death, " a unique and towering figure" then their is the rotten tory party, still here today preaching the same stinking doctrine. The scars and pain she caused remain.
The witch might be dead, but the stench of Thatcherism still unfortunately, fills the air it is time I think, that we bury her awful legacy, once and for all,
The above film, old that it may be,still relevent, though looks at mans relationship, with the natural world, addresses us with issues that remain today, as urgent today, as they have always been.
At the end of the day, all are horizons can look much clearer, everything is true, everything is happening.
Patriarchy too, continues its' desire to conquer,and destroy, but out of of control, enslaves hungry thirst and thought. Everythings wrong, everythings right.
Don't let the world hold you down. keep releasing thought, seeds of survival, at the end of the day , don't just sit there, look for answers, solutions, when everything seems so wrong, keep on looking, keep searching for some possibility.
Michael Sowa, Eater Bunny, 1996
,
Ah Easter seems to come round quicker each year, that's a sign I guess. This morning I crawled out of bed, but so far, even though the day is buzzing, no sign of any easter bunny yet, but whats that towering above?
I guess this weekend, will be for some, a time to wind down, take some time of work, or business as usual, or eat, consume, eat consume, for many a time of celebration, David Cameron has been busy writing us his own Easter message, where he sets about his belief in the importance of Christianity absolutely clear, saying "It's the principle around which the Easter celebration is built. Easter is about remembering the importance of change, responsibility, and doing the right thing for the good of the children. And today, that message maters more than ever." http://www.premierchristianity.com/Topics/Society/Politics/David-Cameron-S-Easter-Message-to-Christians
Actions speak louder than words I guess, hey I'm no christian, but I don't think it is right for him to preach to us about values, when up to now what he represents seems to be devoid of it in any shape and flavour. He does not seem to mention social justice, or even mention the resurrection, which for some marks one of the greatest acts of disobedience in history, since once you've been executed by the state, your supposed to stay dead. So for many its about resistance and renewal, a powerful revolutionary faith, M'mmm don't worry am not about to have an announcement of a new direction in faith, I still follow no particular religious bent, well the flow of nature, and the power of words, but believe it is more than time now for the people of the world to rise too. It will be a case of the risen people not the risen lord.
Sadly though too, across this weekend, across the world, assault, torture, genocide and a range of other depravities will be committed in the name of a so called God.
So since its resurrection time, lets try to carrry on, with selfishness and passion, with a glint of rebellion in our eyes, and tomorrow hopefully paves a way for revolutionary, insurectionary acts, against the conformity and consensus that has been created.Anyway Happy Easter all, depending on who you are and what you believe in, remember that Easter has pagan roots too, named originally in honour of Eostore, the teutonic dawn goddess. Also known as the spring goddess of fertility. In ancient times our lands fertility was the key to its survival, heddwch/peace. We ll keep walking our different paths.Keep on keeping on. Find the joy that makes you, you.
Ah the public library will at least reopen on Tuesday.
Watch Victoria Prosser an audience member who spoke out during the leaders debate last night - fantastic, she allows me to keep faith - well said. If I voted she would get my vote. Speaking the truth is easy , shame politicians do not seem able to do it most of the time.
Ah, the race is on, Parliament has dissolved, as it sinks into an archaic cesspit of corruption . Oh it's going to be a fabulous 6 weeks, we will have to endure a lot of bluster and hot air, false promises, and bare faced lies between the ever so slightly different factions of the austerity partys'. It will resemble more of a pantomime than an actual election. It will be a a bit like tea verses coffee, or the drip, drip, drip of distraction. The choices are not really that much different, if it actually changed anything, they would probably make it illegal. We desperately however need genuine changes to help disabled, ill people, children who are hungry because the only food they eat is from bloody foodbanks. We need long term solutions that will help the homeless and the destitute. We need to shift the power back, remove the politics of blame from our lives. But saying that ,it should be noted that M.Ps will escape investigation into dubious expenses claims because authorities have destroyed all the evidence. At the end of the day they will again be allowed to pick from our pockets on a pretty frequent basis. But there is nothing like a good old vote to sort out the corruption, after all we're all in it together. It should also be remembered that every single government since Thatcher has caused this country of ours, economic damage, while allowing bankers to dictate their policies.Through their friends in the media I guess, they will be very successful at diverting attention from them and on to the poor. The conservatives if they succeed will carry on carving up the country, as I speak planning a further £12 bn in welfare cuts, will carry on their creeping privatisation of the N.H.S, the Labour Party sadly up to now have been rather lacklustre in their condemnation, will they save us money in scrapping trident, does not seem that they will, and despite some fine words, do not seem to offer us much of a radical alternative. Just the familiar pattern of gesture politics. Will a change of government actually change a thing. We keep getting caught in the same trap, thinking that if we put our faith in the power of the state, everything will turn out allright. At the end of the day we will still be screwed. The system was never broken, it was built this way. We need to keep struggling for a new order based on truth, social justice, equality, accountability, give power back to the people. I don't however hold my breathe that this will happen any day soon, unfortunately. Neither will the current constitutional framework rescue us from the darkness of capitalism. Whatever the end result, for many people across the land, I am sorry to say there will be no happy ending.
A poem by the great Palestinian Poet Mahmoud Darwish, to mark the 39th anniversary of Palestinian Land Day, which is marked by Palestinians by protesting and planting olive trees near the so called buffer zones of Gaza. Today commemorates the day when Israeli forces carried out a lethal and brutal military attack on unarmed Palestinians in 1976, who were peacefully protesting against Israeli apartheids land grab policies.
To our Land
To our land,
and it is the one near the word of god,
a ceiling of clouds
To our land,
and it is the one far from the adjectives of nouns,
the map of absence
To our land,
and it is the one tiny as a sesame seed,
a heavenly horizon ... and a hidden chasm
To our land
and it is the one poor as a grouses wings
holy books . . . and an identity wound
To our land,
and it is the one surrounded with torn hills,
the ambush of a new past
To our land, and it is a prize of war,
the freedom to die from longing and burning
and our land, in its bloodied night
is jewel that glimmers for the far upon the far
and illuminates whats outside it . . .
As for us , inside,
we suffocate more !
Today we say goodbye ,to Mike, legendary local keyboard maestro, jazz aficionado, potter of great delicacy. My thoughts go out to his family and friends.
Safe travelling.
Today would have been the birthday of one of my favourite beat Poets Gregory Corso,11 years after his death I still remember him, here's two poems by the great man, I thought I'd share.
I Held A Shelley Manuscript
My hands did numb to beauty
as they reached into Death and tightened!
O sovereign was my touch
upon the tan-ink's fragile page!
Quickly, my eyes move quickly,
sought for smell for dust for lace
for dry hair!
I would have taken the page
breathing in the crime!
For no evidence have I wrung from dreams-
yet what triumph is there in private credence?
Often, in some steep ancestral book,
when I find myself entangled with leopard-apples
and torched-skin mushrooms,
my cypressean skein outreaches the recorded age
and I, as though tipping a pitcher of milk,
pour secrecy upon the dying page.
Tranformation and Escape
1
I reached heaven and it was syrupy.
It was oppressively sweet.
Croaking substances stuck to my kness.
Of all substances St.Michael was stickiest.
I grabbed him and pasted him on my head.
I found God a gigantic fly paper.
I stayed out of his way.
I waled where everything smelled of burnt chocolate.
Meanwhile St.Michael was busy with his sword
hacking away at my hair.
I found Dante standing naked in a blob of honey.
Bears were liocking his thighs.
I snatched St Michael's sword
and quartered myself in a great circular adhesive.
My torso fell upon an elastic equilibrium.
As though shot from a sting
my torso whizzed at God fly paper.
My legs sank into some unimaginable sog.
My head, though weighed with the weight of St.Michael,
did not fall.
Fine strands of multi-coloured gum
suspended it there.
My spirit stooped by my snared torso.
I pulled! I yanked! Rolled it left to right!
It bruised! It softened! It ould not free!
The struggle of an Eternity!
An eternity of pulls! of yanks!
Went back to my head,
St. Micael had sucked dry my brainpan!
Skull!
My skull!
Only skull in heaven!
Went to my legs.
St Peter was polishing his sandals with my knees!
I pounced upon him!
Pummelled his face in sugar in hioney in marmalade!
Under each arm I fled with my legs!
The police of heaven were in hot pursuit!
I hid within the sop of St Francis
Gasping in the confectionary of his gentility
I wept, caressing my intimidated legs.
2
They caught me.
They took my legs away.
They sentenced me in the firmanent of an ass.
The prison of an Eternity!
An Eternity of labor! of hee-haws!
Burdened with the soiled railment of saints
I schemed escape,
Lugging ampulae its daily fill
I schemed escape.
I schemed climbing impossible mountains.
I schemed under the Virgin's whip,
I schemed the sound of celestial joy.
I schemed to the sound of earth,
the wail of infants,
the groans of men,
the thud of coffins.
I schemed escape.
God was busy switching the spheres from hand to hand.
The time had come.
I cracked my jaws.
Broke my legs.
Sagged belly-flat on plow
on pitchfork
on scythe.
My spirit leaked from the wounds.
A whole spiri pooled.
I rose from the carcass of my torment.
I stood in the brink of heaven.
And I swear that Great Territory did quake
when I fell free.
Nigel Farage, tosses of allegations of racism, again and again, like it was a bad joke, having lost a fourth candidate, he releases again , his sickly smile and again ignores the ugly truth.
It is completely unacceptable, however he likes to see it, his most enthusiastic supporter is the Leader of the Neo-Nazi Organisation; Britain First, who goes by the name of Paul Golding.
A far right racist, that detests ordinary people, the working class, anybody that was not born here, who wants to see a right wing government elected that will hurt and damage people, mainly the disadvantaged and the poor.
His organisation are a vile paramilitary styled far right nationalist group, who have been responsible for vigilante actions against mosques, Golding himself a thug who has been convicted of harrassment, his band of nazis responsible for stirring up racial hatred, whose origins lie in the extreme wings of the Ulster Loyalism.
Beneath their publicity stunts and the hoodwinking of many on facebook and other forms of social media, the ugly face of fascism lurks.
The similarity with UKIP is strong, an organisation full of racists and extremists, here lies a dark murky world. Britain First are often seen as the self-appointed defence force of UKIP. They like UKIP are endlessly saying their views are misinterpreted, under threat of censorship, however they have a policy of purging their pages of any critical contact and banning dissenting voices from ever coming back.
Combined with a history of intimidation, behold, these new footsoldiers of Farage's fascist state. It is a simple case of UKIP at the ballot box and Britain First on the streets. They are simply peas of the same pod. However much Mr Farage likes to present his organisation, and tries to distance himself from their support and association, their ideological opinions are markedly similar, both trading in the language of hatred, fear and division.
People like these have no place on our society, as they seek to harm others, they must be stopped in their tracks, you can try at the ballot box, but better still on the streets.
No Pasaran/ They shall not pass.
As I grow older I percieve
Life has its tail in its mouth
and other poets other painters
are no longer any kind of competition
Its the sky that's the challenge
the sky that still needs deciphering
even as astronomers strain to hear it
with their huge electric ears
the sky that whispers to us constantly
the final secrets of the universe
the sky that breathes in and out
as if it were the inside of a mouth
of the cosmos
the sky that is the land's edge also
and the sea's edge also
the sky with its many voices and no god
the sky that engulfs a sea of sound
and echoes it back to us
as in a wave against a seawall
Whole poems whole dictionaries
rolled up in a thunderclap
And every sunset an action painting
and every cloud a book of shadows
through which wildly fly
the vowels of birds about to cry
And the sky is clear to the fisherman
even if overcast
He sees it for what it is :
a mirror of the sea
about to fall on him
in his wood boat on the dark horizon
We have to think of him as the poet
forever face to face with old reality
where no birds fly before a storm
And he knows what's coming down
before the dawn
and he's his own best lookout
listening for the sound of the universe
and singing out his sightings
of the land of the living.
SPIRIT OF THE CRUSADES
Stoney Wales
with its slate-grey roofs
in slate-grey Cardiff
and its greystone houses on greystone terraces
and its great high statue of
"The Spirit of the Crusades"
in the Wales National Museum
portraying a medieval knight
in grey metal armor and helmet
with visor down
on a great grey steed
with four grey foot soldiers
in close march abouthim
(two at the head of the horse
two behind)
wearing World War One helmets
and carrying World War One rifles
with fixed bayonets
And the Crusades are over
but they are still marching
over the grey sea-locked land
in a dead march
straight through the twentieth century
In tribute to recently departed Daevid Allen of Soft Machine and Gong, and friend of William Burroughs, UK and video artist Cynack created a psychedelic realisation of "Occupy", the video covers 13.8 billion years of capitalism.
Visual artist Anna Teresa Fernandez, powerfully repaints the Mexican/US border, highlighting not just the ugliness of the fence, but the ugliness of the policies and attitudes that helped to build and create this montrosity in the first place. She confronted the fence by putting on her black dress and painting the sky blue. Unfortunately this ugly wall is still here, as are others like the ones to be seen in Palestine and the West Bank.This border stretches for 1.969 miles, a symbol of oppression, a dividing line between cultures, a physical expression of the contempt for the poor, legislators have. It does not seem to solve problems but adds to the tension and racism and discrimination, but does not hinder peoples need for survival. Despite it, many still have a furious desire to cross it, with migrants not only facing dangers posed by an unforgiving desert, but also abuse at the hands of US Border guards, risking all, dehydration, starvation and exhaustion, and ultimately for hundreds every year death, trying to succeed. It should be noted that up to 60% of illegal US-Mexican Border crossings, actually succeed. I personally believe it is time to make all borders disappear. Link to artists webpage :- http://anateresafernandez.com/
This morning, woke a little earlier than usual, managed to see sun being obscured, by moon and drifting cloud, the air was cold, all seemed quiet, time seemed to move slow. Gradually, lady moon, moved her shadow, cockerel's wailed, flight of birds, took their daily path, to be seen again, swooping down , releasing song. Out of dim light, some kind of order returned, the mighty sun smiled, shone down,with the light of day, as springs' waking senses, came out to play.
In observation, senses got rekindled, some form of connection, revealed again, in this borderless world, the blossom of futures constantly changing presence, now, the earth still feels eerie, in the library, my mind drifting, flying outward, homeward bound. ( afterthought; imagine an eclipse, that never ends, the people of Syria and Palestine whose light is always seemingly deemed.)
On March 18th 1834, six farm labourers in Tolpuddle, Dorset England were found guilty of taking an illegal oath and forming a union, the friendly Society of Agricultural Labourers in a backdrop of harsh working conditions.They met at a now world famous Sycamore in Dorset to sign their oath. Under this tree in 1834, exploited by their
employers – paid just 9 shillings a week and living in dreadful poverty –
formed the first trades union in Britain to bargain for better pay and
working conditions under the leadership of George Loveless.This tree is still growing strong.
The landowners, led by James Frampton and supported by the government,
were desperate to put a stop to the union and to control increasing
outbreaks of dissent. The Tolpuddle Six were arrested, sent to
Dorchester for Trial, charged under the 1797 Mutiny Act. They were
convicted of swearing a secret oath as members of the Friendly Society
of Agricultural Labourers, sentenced to seven years and transported to
Botany Bay, simply because they had made a stand against the poor treatment they received from their employees. Support for the Tolpuddle Martyrs was enormous, a massive demonstration marched through London and over 8,000 people signed a petition protesting their sentence.
The protest campaign proved to be a success with the Tolpuddle martyrs returning home in triumph. Their story is about how ordinary working people combined together to defend their lives. The idea of solidarity as a basic human right is now an international demand. The act of solidarity works.
They are commemorated every year at the Tolpuddle Martyrs festival every July, I have been planning to make a pilgrimage for years. Here is a link http://www.tolpuddlemartyrs.org.uk/
We need dissent and incendiary action in this land, now more than ever, to help shape it into a better place.
A short documentary that examines the absence of Gaza and the Palestinians from the Israeli mainstream
media and 2015 elections.
What kind of information are Israelis getting from their press?
What king of information is missing?
And how does this effect the reality on the ground?
It has become traditional to remember today Rachel Corrie, a 23 year old American peace activist from Olympia, Washington, who was crushed to death on this day by an Israeli bulldozer in 2003, while undertaking non violent direct action to protect the home of a Palestinian family from demolition.
She was a member of the International Solidarity Movement. An organisation that exists to help with non-violent protests against the Israeli occupation. It seeks to pressure the Israelis and the Israel Defence force into ending its occupation of Palestinian land, using a number of non-violent tactics, such as violating Israeli curfews imposed on Palestinian areas, removing roadblocks and blocking military tanks and bulldozers.
Rachel Corrie went to Rafah in the Gaza Strip in January 2003 and was horrified at the destruction she found. She saw daily homes being destroyed and people being detained on a daily basis. She recorded all she saw in letters and emails that she sent home to her family. She once wrote " the sheer kindness of the people here, coupled with the overwhelming evidence of the willful destruction of their lives,makes it seem unreal to me."
Sadly this reality combined with her courage cost her, her life. She was run over twice by a Caterpiller Bulldozer and killed. Her memory lives on, and because of her actions, she helps inspire many people around the globe, who search for freedom and justice for the Palestinian people. Her memory kept alive by her deeds and her words that she left behind.
Here is a link to the Rachel Corrie foundation set up to remember her
( if you give hope a chance, it may win .) " reality and dreaming are different things. dreaming is beautiful because dreams are nearly always the predecessors of what is to come, but the most sublime is to make life beautiful, to mould life beautifully." - Nosrotos, Anarchist Daily, Spain, March 1937) Dealing with daily battles, gives us at the end of the day some kind of hope, we can build new pages, a society where all people are equal and free, our dreams do not need revision, they can reinvent, bring a new logic of existence, where chains and bondage are broken, can overthrow constraints, forge a new order, lands full of promise, wild ambition, shifting sands. Where reality is always negotiable, today I caught a glimpse of sunshine in the rain, life can be bittersweet, but allows us all to live the dream, my mind is like a garden, overgrown but free. Be careful to avoid alienation try and find sustenance , beware of the weight of consensus prohibitions , follow kindred spirits rather than governments that can lead you isolated or powerless. Keep on dreaming, keep on believing, keep spreading kindness, your own inner wildness.
Proving to be a funny month so far, Terry Pratchett yesterday, and local legendary keyboard player Mike Vaughan - Jones yesterday, and friends dear friend the lawrence the day before and today I awake to find that another inspiration of mine had gone travelling again too. Daevid Allen the wizard of Oz himself, had been aware of approaching plans for destinations anew for a bit, so had already prepared a little. Anyway thank you Daevid, now allow me to release this poem You Can't Kill The Spirit A long time ago, wandering on another planet, a mystical magic poet, came down to visit us, with some epiphany some floating anarchy, threads of absurdity messages of freedom, seeds of dadaist imagination to plant, to help us unravel, the world's long slumber. Would travel off into the future but would always return, with messages of love and devotion releasing senses of wonder, that giggled through life and beyond glimmering along the mazes of purpose, conjurer, delivered memories of joy allowed laughter to rain down, as om shantis sigh glides with moonlights kiss, among glissando slides crackling,towards faithful wish. Revelations and enlightenment reveal revolutions, every day now, revolving around our skins our beauty stands against governments, all over the world, different cultures shout, float, seek alternatives, choose not to kill the earth, cast layers of protection over sky. And transitory psychonauts create illusions, for you and I, to share, improvisational rhythmic.musical explosions, that lift us, higher. We will continue to refuse their orders break through their cordons, we will snakedance over their forcefields run wild and free, fuelling truth, vision wide and full of intent satoris invisible tempo soars on high, as the day beats, on and on and om you can't kill the spirit.
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