Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The Latest From The Rag Blog


Click below to link to The Rag Blog  

http://theragblog.blogspot.com/

Markin comment:

I find this The Rag Blog website very useful to monitor for the latest in what is happening with past tense radical activists and activities. Anybody, with some kind of name, and who is still around from the 1960s has found a home here. So the remembrances and recollections are helpful for today’s activists. Strangely the politics are almost non-existent, as least any that  would help today, except to kind of retroactively “bless” those old-time left politics that did nothing (well, almost nothing) but get us on the losing end of the class (and cultural) wars of the  last forty plus years. Still this is a must read blog for today’s left militants.

Additional Markin comment:

I place some material in this space which may be of interest to the radical public that I do not necessarily agree with or support. Off hand, as I have mentioned before, I think it would be easier, infinitely easier, to fight for the socialist revolution straight up than some of the “remedies” provided by the commentators in these entries. But part of that struggle for the socialist revolution is to sort out the “real” stuff from the fluff as we struggle for that more just world that animates our efforts.
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Michael James :
Poor whites respond to Black rebellion, plus Buffalo Gap and the Klan, 1967-’68

The summers of 1967 and ’68 were hot — real hot — and we were in the ‘guts of the ogre.’

james 2 - LADO_Training_1967._Posters_on_MJ's_Apt._Wall_(3)
Posters on the wall above my desk. Uptown Chicago, 1967. Photos by Michael James from his forthcoming book, Michael Gaylord James’ Pictures from the Long Haul.
By Michael James | The Rag Blog | March 3, 2014
[In this series, Michael James is sharing images from his rich past, accompanied by reflections about -- and inspired by -- those images. This photo will be included in his forthcoming book, Michael Gaylord James' Pictures from the Long Haul.]
The summer of 1967 was hot — real hot. Temperatures soared and so did social unrest. Air conditioners were scarce and so was any semblance of authentic legislation to alleviate poverty and its co-conspirators, repression and neglect.
On the worst of the hot days I would go in DeMars restaurant in Uptown, order a strawberry ice cream sundae, black coffee, and ice water, and sit in an air-conditioned turquoise booth that gave me a view of the intersection of Wilson and Sheridan. Nights were the worst. I attempted sleep after a cold shower, lying naked on the bed with a fan blowing over me.
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