Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Why not...

My life has swept me away from finding great articles to share with you these past few weeks. But here is an update, complete with some quotations, interesting news links, and my latest poem (composed during my break at work...)



In remembrance of Mikhail Bakunin, great anarchist philosopher, born today in 1814:

“If there is a State, then there is domination, and in turn, there is slavery.”

“People go to church for the same reasons they go to a tavern: to stupefy themselves, to forget their misery, to imagine themselves, for a few minutes anyway, free and happy”

“Everything will pass, and the world will perish but the Ninth Symphony will remain.”

and my personal favorite:

“A Boss in Heaven is the best excuse for a boss on earth, therefore If God did exist, he would have to be abolished”

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In the ever declining news:

Robots To Guard Schools in Korea

Job Approval from Homeland Security


Banning Books in Georgia

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My newest poem, based on truth and dedicated to my 17 yr old brother:



I remember it like yesterday.

The day my brother stated without fear:
"I would rather spend
One hundred years
Locked in jail
For something I said,
Than live 100 free
For keeping my beliefs
Trapped in my head."

But that was long before
They rearranged the words
On the news
And put limits
On musical lyrics produced.
Before they monitored
Our digital dialogue
And blocked out our sun
With their corporate smog.

We always said
We wouldn't go down
Without a fight
But I would rather
Not be arrested
For something I whispered
In the night.

I promised him
We wouldn't sell our souls
But for now,
We had to play the role.
It was far better
To stay concealed
And strike
When the right time
Was revealed.

The message was hidden
In plain view
Our insider informers
Used the enemies own tools.

I remember how rapidly
Everything moved forward.
The people's power
Was about to be restored.

I remember
Our barricaded doors
And fire blankets
Nailed to the floors.
Windows covered with kevlar
The stairs steaming with hot tar.
Our bay-window
Set up with cement blocks
And our long dormant ammunition
Now waiting in full stock.

Our sight was slim
And the light was dim
But we knew the ranges
Like the back of our hand
Everything was going on
As planned.

What we didn't count on
Were the countless
Brainwashed masses
Who joined the ranks
Of the military
To avoid
The crematory ashes.

But we pushed on
Through the faded light of dawn
Set off the pre-planted
Bombs on the border.
Took out the ranking leaders
Of their tyrannical order.

But our bullets ran low
And the last shells fell to the ground
Soft like snow.

We were forced to go
Underground.
And it's a miracle
We haven't been found.

We sealed our tunnel tight
And like vermin,
Only emerge at night.

For months
We haven't felt
The faint heat of the dimming sun.
Had fresh food
Or found the other remaining members
Of our revolution.

I start to wonder
Which prison is really worse?
Or if we will even be able
To out live
This self inflicted curse.

Did our efforts
Help to bring change?
Or was every single thing
We ever fought for
Sacrificed in vain?

We are still here waiting.


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