Click on the headline to link to the journal issue described above via the International Bolshevik Tendency website by clicking on Marxist Archives and then Spartacist issues 1-30. Yes,I know two clicks means you really, really want to read this stuff. And guess what, you do.
Markin comment:
This archival issue of the Spartacist journal may be of some historical interest for old "new leftists,” perhaps, as well as for younger militants interested in various cultural and social questions that intersect the class struggle. Or for those just interested in a Marxist position on a series of social and political questions that are thrust upon us by the vagaries of bourgeois society. I will be posting more such articles from the back issues of Spartacist and other periodicals from other leftist organizations, past and present, periodically throughout the year.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
From The Archives Of The American And International Left -Spartacist Number 4, May-June 1965
Click on the headline to link to the journal issue described above via the International Bolshevik Tendency website by clicking on Marxist Archives and then Spartacist issues 1-30. Yes,I know two clicks means you really, really want to read this stuff. And guess what, you do.
Markin comment:
This archival issue of the Spartacist journal may be of some historical interest for old "new leftists,” perhaps, as well as for younger militants interested in various cultural and social questions that intersect the class struggle. Or for those just interested in a Marxist position on a series of social and political questions that are thrust upon us by the vagaries of bourgeois society. I will be posting more such articles from the back issues of Spartacist and other periodicals from other leftist organizations, past and present, periodically throughout the year.
Markin comment:
This archival issue of the Spartacist journal may be of some historical interest for old "new leftists,” perhaps, as well as for younger militants interested in various cultural and social questions that intersect the class struggle. Or for those just interested in a Marxist position on a series of social and political questions that are thrust upon us by the vagaries of bourgeois society. I will be posting more such articles from the back issues of Spartacist and other periodicals from other leftist organizations, past and present, periodically throughout the year.
From The Archives Of The American And International Left -Spartacist Number 3, January-Febuary 1965
Click on the headline to link to the journal issue described above via the International Bolshevik Tendency website by clicking on Marxist Archives and then Spartacist issues 1-30. Yes,I know two clicks means you really, really want to read this stuff. And guess what, you do.
Markin comment:
This archival issue of the Spartacist journal may be of some historical interest for old "new leftists,” perhaps, as well as for younger militants interested in various cultural and social questions that intersect the class struggle. Or for those just interested in a Marxist position on a series of social and political questions that are thrust upon us by the vagaries of bourgeois society. I will be posting more such articles from the back issues of Spartacist and other periodicals from other leftist organizations, past and present, periodically throughout the year.
Markin comment:
This archival issue of the Spartacist journal may be of some historical interest for old "new leftists,” perhaps, as well as for younger militants interested in various cultural and social questions that intersect the class struggle. Or for those just interested in a Marxist position on a series of social and political questions that are thrust upon us by the vagaries of bourgeois society. I will be posting more such articles from the back issues of Spartacist and other periodicals from other leftist organizations, past and present, periodically throughout the year.
Out In The 1966 Olde Saco Night-Josh Breslin Comes Of Age In The Age Of The Byrds' “Eight Miles High”- A CD Review
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of the classic acid rock group, The Byrds, performing Eight Miles High.
Eight miles high and when you touch down
You’ll find that it’s stranger than known
Signs in the street that say where you’re going
Are somewhere just being their own
Nowhere is there warmth to be found
Among those afraid of losing their ground
Rain gray town known for it’s sound
In places small faces unbound
Round the squares huddled in storms
Some laughing some just shapeless forms
Sidewalk scenes and black limousines
Some living some standing alone
CD Review
The Beat Goes On: 1966, various artists, Time-Life Music, 1988
“Josh, are you coming with me to the Sea ‘n’ Surf Club over in Old Orchard Beach Friday night so we can dance and have some fun? They have got the Ramrods playing and I want to hear their cover of Eight Miles High again,” Lola LaBlanc whispered in Josh Breslin’s ear one Wednesday afternoon, one Olde Saco high school afternoon. Of course one Lola LaBlanc (French-Canadian, like Josh on his mother’s, and like half the town before the mills starting heading south), whom one Josh Breslin had more than a passing interest in, especially some variant of the whispered “have some fun” interest in, did not explain in any way how two, not twenty-one looking sixteen (almost seventeen, okay, but still young) teenagers, were going to get into the security conscious Sea ‘n’ Surf Club in order to have that fun.
Have fun without IDs, without connections, without anything except maybe Lola’s rather nice shape (and toothy smile). But there were a million Lola shapes around when you thought about it and the guys at the door probably had more, uh, “dates” (or promises of dates) than they could possible use. Nevertheless Josh said simply, “Yes”, and left it at that, at Lola that. Because when Lola wanted something, although heaven and hell might tumble to the ground, she was going to get it. So, Josh, no stranger to previous Lola “have fun,” figured to take the ride.
Of course in the year 1966 Lola wants, hell, any teenager ready to break out of the bounds of knee –jerk grind high school wants, included copping some dope to insure Friday night fun. The usual drill was that Lola would score some weed from some Portland connection (or maybe a Kittery across from the Portsmouth shipyard Navy sailor connection), they would get a little high and Lola would be ready to drive those guys at the front door of the club crazy, crazy enough to let her pass. Of course, the part Josh didn’t know (or want to know) was that whispered promise of a “date” to grease the way.
Moreover when Lola got dressed up to the nines, something tight and sexy, put on some misty ancient primordial drive fragrance and rubbed right up against a guy, well, that was Lola wants in a nutshell. But using her magic to get into see The Ramrods with all kinds of tight and sexy dressed to the nines competition from real twenty-one year old women with a little more experience in the wants satisfied department was going to be a different proposition.
Josh could never figure why, every once in a while, Lola came up to him and whispered in his ear, and forced him to say yes to anything she asked for. Maybe it was for old time’s sake since they had been middle school sweethearts and although it had not lasted long once both realized that this was not a match made in heaven (or what passes for middle school understanding of such a situation). But maybe it was just Lola trying to keep her hooks into small hokey town Olde Saco’s kind of first “hippie” to see what was what on that scene.
That is how it had had happened the first time they had gone to see The Ramrods in Old Orchard, had gotten high as kites on some weed Josh had scored in Boston one weekend (and grapevine Lola had heard about and whispered in his ear), they had bopped the dance, and afterward gone to “watch the submarine races” at the beach (a localism but you can figure it out, boy, girl, high, dope high, hot, and kind of loose, get it. And no submarines seen anywhere in the area since about 1942, get it).
Come Friday night and Josh picks up Lola in his father’s old Buick (no problem since Lola never was a car magnet girl). After doing the normal come in and get her, say hi to the folks, they finally got under way to Old Orchard. Along the way Lola casually stated, “Josh, I didn’t get weed for us tonight, tonight I have some good mescaline. I have never tried it but my sailor boy says it’s mild, mild compared to LSD, and is just great for grooving on music, especially for The Ramrods. I got a couple of extra tabs for the guys at the door. We are going to do it up before we go, okay?” Josh, feinting sophistication in matters of drugs said “Sure” although he had never tried anything more heavy than weed. Take the ride, he thought.
Like I said what Lola wants Lola gets and Josh and she take their tabs. Moreover the new trick, mescaline, got them into the club without any problems (although Josh thought he heard a date go with it but that was just Lola). About a half hour later Josh is “grooving” (and Lola too) as The Ramrods start their version of the yellow brick road magical mystery tour with a ripping set, featuring Eight Miles High. Josh (and as later described to him by Lola) is nothing but flash colors, strobe light visions, and distorted shapes.
Groovy. Too groovy to stay in the hot, hepped up club after a while. So like couples have done ten thousand times before in ten thousand locales they went down to the beach to cool off. Cool off watching submarine races (I don’t have to explain that again, right) but mostly giggling, and goofing. And that, my friends, is how one Josh Breslin and one Lola LaBlanc came of age in the 1960s psychedelic high night.
Eight miles high and when you touch down
You’ll find that it’s stranger than known
Signs in the street that say where you’re going
Are somewhere just being their own
Nowhere is there warmth to be found
Among those afraid of losing their ground
Rain gray town known for it’s sound
In places small faces unbound
Round the squares huddled in storms
Some laughing some just shapeless forms
Sidewalk scenes and black limousines
Some living some standing alone
CD Review
The Beat Goes On: 1966, various artists, Time-Life Music, 1988
“Josh, are you coming with me to the Sea ‘n’ Surf Club over in Old Orchard Beach Friday night so we can dance and have some fun? They have got the Ramrods playing and I want to hear their cover of Eight Miles High again,” Lola LaBlanc whispered in Josh Breslin’s ear one Wednesday afternoon, one Olde Saco high school afternoon. Of course one Lola LaBlanc (French-Canadian, like Josh on his mother’s, and like half the town before the mills starting heading south), whom one Josh Breslin had more than a passing interest in, especially some variant of the whispered “have some fun” interest in, did not explain in any way how two, not twenty-one looking sixteen (almost seventeen, okay, but still young) teenagers, were going to get into the security conscious Sea ‘n’ Surf Club in order to have that fun.
Have fun without IDs, without connections, without anything except maybe Lola’s rather nice shape (and toothy smile). But there were a million Lola shapes around when you thought about it and the guys at the door probably had more, uh, “dates” (or promises of dates) than they could possible use. Nevertheless Josh said simply, “Yes”, and left it at that, at Lola that. Because when Lola wanted something, although heaven and hell might tumble to the ground, she was going to get it. So, Josh, no stranger to previous Lola “have fun,” figured to take the ride.
Of course in the year 1966 Lola wants, hell, any teenager ready to break out of the bounds of knee –jerk grind high school wants, included copping some dope to insure Friday night fun. The usual drill was that Lola would score some weed from some Portland connection (or maybe a Kittery across from the Portsmouth shipyard Navy sailor connection), they would get a little high and Lola would be ready to drive those guys at the front door of the club crazy, crazy enough to let her pass. Of course, the part Josh didn’t know (or want to know) was that whispered promise of a “date” to grease the way.
Moreover when Lola got dressed up to the nines, something tight and sexy, put on some misty ancient primordial drive fragrance and rubbed right up against a guy, well, that was Lola wants in a nutshell. But using her magic to get into see The Ramrods with all kinds of tight and sexy dressed to the nines competition from real twenty-one year old women with a little more experience in the wants satisfied department was going to be a different proposition.
Josh could never figure why, every once in a while, Lola came up to him and whispered in his ear, and forced him to say yes to anything she asked for. Maybe it was for old time’s sake since they had been middle school sweethearts and although it had not lasted long once both realized that this was not a match made in heaven (or what passes for middle school understanding of such a situation). But maybe it was just Lola trying to keep her hooks into small hokey town Olde Saco’s kind of first “hippie” to see what was what on that scene.
That is how it had had happened the first time they had gone to see The Ramrods in Old Orchard, had gotten high as kites on some weed Josh had scored in Boston one weekend (and grapevine Lola had heard about and whispered in his ear), they had bopped the dance, and afterward gone to “watch the submarine races” at the beach (a localism but you can figure it out, boy, girl, high, dope high, hot, and kind of loose, get it. And no submarines seen anywhere in the area since about 1942, get it).
Come Friday night and Josh picks up Lola in his father’s old Buick (no problem since Lola never was a car magnet girl). After doing the normal come in and get her, say hi to the folks, they finally got under way to Old Orchard. Along the way Lola casually stated, “Josh, I didn’t get weed for us tonight, tonight I have some good mescaline. I have never tried it but my sailor boy says it’s mild, mild compared to LSD, and is just great for grooving on music, especially for The Ramrods. I got a couple of extra tabs for the guys at the door. We are going to do it up before we go, okay?” Josh, feinting sophistication in matters of drugs said “Sure” although he had never tried anything more heavy than weed. Take the ride, he thought.
Like I said what Lola wants Lola gets and Josh and she take their tabs. Moreover the new trick, mescaline, got them into the club without any problems (although Josh thought he heard a date go with it but that was just Lola). About a half hour later Josh is “grooving” (and Lola too) as The Ramrods start their version of the yellow brick road magical mystery tour with a ripping set, featuring Eight Miles High. Josh (and as later described to him by Lola) is nothing but flash colors, strobe light visions, and distorted shapes.
Groovy. Too groovy to stay in the hot, hepped up club after a while. So like couples have done ten thousand times before in ten thousand locales they went down to the beach to cool off. Cool off watching submarine races (I don’t have to explain that again, right) but mostly giggling, and goofing. And that, my friends, is how one Josh Breslin and one Lola LaBlanc came of age in the 1960s psychedelic high night.
From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- When Harry Smith Ruled The Whole Wide World- Folk World That Is
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of the Memphis Jug Band performing in the Harry Smith 1920s night.
Joshua Lawrence Breslin comment:
Back the 1960s folk revival minute my old friend, socialist propagandist and amateur folk revival archivist Peter Paul Markin, was a real piece of work. I will never forget the conversation on the subject of folk music, the early stuff, on one of the first nights after I had met him. (It was really a Pee-Pee monologue. By the way in those days he was known under the moniker of Be-Bop Benny so don’t let him know I am calling him Pee-Pee here.) I had just met him and the rest of the motley crew of Captain Crunch’s merry prankster yellow brick road bus at a park up on Russian Hill in San Francisco in the summer of love, 1967 version, after I had hitchhiked my way across the country from my Olde Saco, Maine hometown.
He, in a hail of bong fire (figure it out for yourselves what we were doing), started going on and on about this guy Harry Smith, kind of a screwy guy when all was said and done, who almost single-handedly created the better parts of the American Folk Songbook. I, just out of high school, just bumming around looking for some adventure, and mainly just getting away from squaresville Olde Saco, was just barely “on the bus” with Bob Dylan and his electric folk stuff so, at the time , and for a long time after this Pee-Pee’s raving was just so much air.
But one thing about Pee-Pee and his obsessions, he doesn’t give up easily. Every once in a while, usually after some bong fire hit, he would return to the subject in little snippets. Like did I realize that the Jim Kweskin Jug Band (I was crazy for Maria Muldaur) played a lot of stuff that the Memphis Jug Band played in the 1920s. Or that the real way to understand that old lonesome and distressing mountain music brought from the old country (the British Isles old country, just to keep things straight) and planted in Appalachia was to listen to Clarence Ashley or Buell Kazee render their versions of songs such as East Virginia. Or that guys like Uncle Dave Mason, and guys like that, worked the carny, vaudeville, back alley circuit honing their skills before live audiences. Or that non-electric juke joints, church Sunday, and plantation prisons were keys to understanding the way black music evolved into blues, jazz, hip-hop, rap and so on.
Basically old Pee-Pee spoon fed me in little doses (knowing my attention span for non- electric acid-etched rock was minimal in those days) the great expanse of the American folk songbook. As time went on that funny old guy with eclectic tastes, Harry Smith (and, additionally the Lomaxes, father and son, and the Seegers, father and sons, help fill it out), started to look no so eccentric. So when my time came to listen to Harry’s now famous Anthology of American Folk Music they had to practically pry me from the CD player before I wore it out playing the eighty-odd songs repeatedly. Ya, that old Pee-Pee was sure a real piece of work
Joshua Lawrence Breslin comment:
Back the 1960s folk revival minute my old friend, socialist propagandist and amateur folk revival archivist Peter Paul Markin, was a real piece of work. I will never forget the conversation on the subject of folk music, the early stuff, on one of the first nights after I had met him. (It was really a Pee-Pee monologue. By the way in those days he was known under the moniker of Be-Bop Benny so don’t let him know I am calling him Pee-Pee here.) I had just met him and the rest of the motley crew of Captain Crunch’s merry prankster yellow brick road bus at a park up on Russian Hill in San Francisco in the summer of love, 1967 version, after I had hitchhiked my way across the country from my Olde Saco, Maine hometown.
He, in a hail of bong fire (figure it out for yourselves what we were doing), started going on and on about this guy Harry Smith, kind of a screwy guy when all was said and done, who almost single-handedly created the better parts of the American Folk Songbook. I, just out of high school, just bumming around looking for some adventure, and mainly just getting away from squaresville Olde Saco, was just barely “on the bus” with Bob Dylan and his electric folk stuff so, at the time , and for a long time after this Pee-Pee’s raving was just so much air.
But one thing about Pee-Pee and his obsessions, he doesn’t give up easily. Every once in a while, usually after some bong fire hit, he would return to the subject in little snippets. Like did I realize that the Jim Kweskin Jug Band (I was crazy for Maria Muldaur) played a lot of stuff that the Memphis Jug Band played in the 1920s. Or that the real way to understand that old lonesome and distressing mountain music brought from the old country (the British Isles old country, just to keep things straight) and planted in Appalachia was to listen to Clarence Ashley or Buell Kazee render their versions of songs such as East Virginia. Or that guys like Uncle Dave Mason, and guys like that, worked the carny, vaudeville, back alley circuit honing their skills before live audiences. Or that non-electric juke joints, church Sunday, and plantation prisons were keys to understanding the way black music evolved into blues, jazz, hip-hop, rap and so on.
Basically old Pee-Pee spoon fed me in little doses (knowing my attention span for non- electric acid-etched rock was minimal in those days) the great expanse of the American folk songbook. As time went on that funny old guy with eclectic tastes, Harry Smith (and, additionally the Lomaxes, father and son, and the Seegers, father and sons, help fill it out), started to look no so eccentric. So when my time came to listen to Harry’s now famous Anthology of American Folk Music they had to practically pry me from the CD player before I wore it out playing the eighty-odd songs repeatedly. Ya, that old Pee-Pee was sure a real piece of work
Stop The Boston MBTA Fare Hikes-They Say "Fare Hike" We Say FARE STRIKE! -JULY 1ST, 2012
FARE STRIKE!
The object of a fare strike is to convince the MBTA that they are going to lose more money because of the fare strike than they are going to gain by raising the fare or cutting service. This is entirely possible if enough people participate.
The only way the MBTA will respond to our needs is if we can put real pressure on them—if we can disrupt business as usual. We have the power to do this. One third of MBTA's budget comes from fares. They depend on us as riders to pay fares, and as workers to collect fares. When riders refuse to pay, and workers refuse to; collect, that will really hit them where it hurts.
We can get where we need to go, have a free ride, and 'put pressure on them at the same time. If this happened on a large scale, they would move quickly to reverse the fare hikes.
Get on the bus anyway you can. Go in the front door or the back door, whatever feels right to you. Don't cause a scene. Just don't pay. Or, start a conversation with the driver and your fellow riders, and together decide to participate in the strike.
Whatever you do, be polite to the driver. They are not the enemy. They have a very difficult and stressful job. Fare hikes, service cuts, and layoffs make their job more difficult. Many, if not most, of the drivers are sympathetic to our efforts.
TOGETHER, RIDERS AND DRIVERS UNITED, WE CAN WIN!
How do we build a fare strike? Get in touch!
BOSTON FARE STRIKE
What is Boston Fare Strike? We're a coalition of Boston-area organizations and individuals that came together this Spring to meet the July 1st fare hikes with a fare strike. We see this action as a first step in a long-term struggle to not only defend our public transit, but to improve and expand it to better serve the people of Boston and the surrounding environment.
Join the struggle!
Email: BostonFareStrike@rilhip.net
Website: bostonfarestrike.tumblr.com
Find us on Facebook
Read more about the MBTA hikes here: http://
mbta.com/about the mbta/?id=23567
No Fare Hikes!
No Service
No Layoffs!
They Say "Fare Hike" We Say FARE STRIKE! -JULY 1ST, 2012-
*****************
FARE HIKE?
On July 1st, the MBTA will raise fares 23%. That means your bus trip will go from $1.25 to $1.50, your subway fare from $1.70 to $2.00, and Bus-Subway combo monthly passes from $59 to $70. This increase is not to fund better service, cleaner facilities, more seating, or even more jobs. It's to knock $33 million off of the MBTA's $185 million debt.
MBTA's debt is from years of mismanagement, bad decisions by the politicians, and a recession caused by big banks. But the MBTA is asking us who have the least to spare-working people, students, immigrants, unemployed, and other members of the working class—to reach deeper into our pockets.
This is just the beginning. While "The T's yearly operating budget is millions of dollars in the red," according to NECN's Eileen Curran, "the long-term debt is in the billions." That means that
July's hikes are only a glimpse of what we can expect down the road. MBTA employees, who escaped this round of cuts mostly unscathed, will likely face major layoffs and benefits cuts next year in addition to future fare hikes. Public transportation should be defended and *expanded* to create jobs, help working people, and benefit the environment. How can the people of Boston stop these cuts and defend our transit system and our jobs in the long term? We must build power and strength together. Riders and workers must band together to launch a fare strike on July 1st!
Dublin in 2003 the bus drivers union called a fare tree as part of an ongoing fight against privatization on the city's bus system.
In 1998, a fare strike in LA organized by the LA Bus Riders Unions not only stopped a fare strike, but pressured LA into buying more buses to reduce crowding.
In some French cities, organized rare evasion became so common, it was more expensive to pay the police to watch all the metros and buses than to just make transport free which is what then happened in a number of cities*
In Italy, fare strike widespread and sucessfully stopped fare increases all over the country.
1993: in San Francisco a fare evasion campaign pressured the city to bring
back transfers which they did.
This Spring, Occupy Wall Street and TWU in New York chained exit doors open during rush hour, giving thousands of commuters a free ride.
In Greece, transportation hikes were stopped through a massive non-payment of fares while uniting with demands of transit workers.
There are successful, ongoing fare evasion campaigns in Stockholm, Gothenburg and Helsinki
The object of a fare strike is to convince the MBTA that they are going to lose more money because of the fare strike than they are going to gain by raising the fare or cutting service. This is entirely possible if enough people participate.
The only way the MBTA will respond to our needs is if we can put real pressure on them—if we can disrupt business as usual. We have the power to do this. One third of MBTA's budget comes from fares. They depend on us as riders to pay fares, and as workers to collect fares. When riders refuse to pay, and workers refuse to; collect, that will really hit them where it hurts.
We can get where we need to go, have a free ride, and 'put pressure on them at the same time. If this happened on a large scale, they would move quickly to reverse the fare hikes.
Get on the bus anyway you can. Go in the front door or the back door, whatever feels right to you. Don't cause a scene. Just don't pay. Or, start a conversation with the driver and your fellow riders, and together decide to participate in the strike.
Whatever you do, be polite to the driver. They are not the enemy. They have a very difficult and stressful job. Fare hikes, service cuts, and layoffs make their job more difficult. Many, if not most, of the drivers are sympathetic to our efforts.
TOGETHER, RIDERS AND DRIVERS UNITED, WE CAN WIN!
How do we build a fare strike? Get in touch!
BOSTON FARE STRIKE
What is Boston Fare Strike? We're a coalition of Boston-area organizations and individuals that came together this Spring to meet the July 1st fare hikes with a fare strike. We see this action as a first step in a long-term struggle to not only defend our public transit, but to improve and expand it to better serve the people of Boston and the surrounding environment.
Join the struggle!
Email: BostonFareStrike@rilhip.net
Website: bostonfarestrike.tumblr.com
Find us on Facebook
Read more about the MBTA hikes here: http://
mbta.com/about the mbta/?id=23567
No Fare Hikes!
No Service
No Layoffs!
They Say "Fare Hike" We Say FARE STRIKE! -JULY 1ST, 2012-
*****************
FARE HIKE?
On July 1st, the MBTA will raise fares 23%. That means your bus trip will go from $1.25 to $1.50, your subway fare from $1.70 to $2.00, and Bus-Subway combo monthly passes from $59 to $70. This increase is not to fund better service, cleaner facilities, more seating, or even more jobs. It's to knock $33 million off of the MBTA's $185 million debt.
MBTA's debt is from years of mismanagement, bad decisions by the politicians, and a recession caused by big banks. But the MBTA is asking us who have the least to spare-working people, students, immigrants, unemployed, and other members of the working class—to reach deeper into our pockets.
This is just the beginning. While "The T's yearly operating budget is millions of dollars in the red," according to NECN's Eileen Curran, "the long-term debt is in the billions." That means that
July's hikes are only a glimpse of what we can expect down the road. MBTA employees, who escaped this round of cuts mostly unscathed, will likely face major layoffs and benefits cuts next year in addition to future fare hikes. Public transportation should be defended and *expanded* to create jobs, help working people, and benefit the environment. How can the people of Boston stop these cuts and defend our transit system and our jobs in the long term? We must build power and strength together. Riders and workers must band together to launch a fare strike on July 1st!
Dublin in 2003 the bus drivers union called a fare tree as part of an ongoing fight against privatization on the city's bus system.
In 1998, a fare strike in LA organized by the LA Bus Riders Unions not only stopped a fare strike, but pressured LA into buying more buses to reduce crowding.
In some French cities, organized rare evasion became so common, it was more expensive to pay the police to watch all the metros and buses than to just make transport free which is what then happened in a number of cities*
In Italy, fare strike widespread and sucessfully stopped fare increases all over the country.
1993: in San Francisco a fare evasion campaign pressured the city to bring
back transfers which they did.
This Spring, Occupy Wall Street and TWU in New York chained exit doors open during rush hour, giving thousands of commuters a free ride.
In Greece, transportation hikes were stopped through a massive non-payment of fares while uniting with demands of transit workers.
There are successful, ongoing fare evasion campaigns in Stockholm, Gothenburg and Helsinki
Friday, June 29, 2012
From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin -Franny Leclerc’s War- “If I Didn’t Care”
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of The Inkspots performing I’ll Get By.
Joshua Lawrence Breslin comment:
She, Francine Lorraine Leclerc, Franny she to everybody in Old Saco, that is up in Maine, thank you, ever since she could remember, was in no hurry, a conscious no hurry, to get down to the War Ration Office to get her monthly sugar, flour, butter (really oleomargarine), and this and that before it closed on this first day of June, year two of our war, 1943. And the reason that Miss Leclerc was in no hurry was that hurry, or no hurry, she would have to wait in that seemingly endless line for half the afternoon for her goods, such as they were.
So moseying down the street around closing time was just as good as that eternal, infernal waiting, listening to Mrs. La Croix talking about how her Jimmy was saving the world single-handedly from the Japs, or, ditto, Mrs. Lévesque on her Jimmy on the European front. Secretly she wished that either, or both Jimmies, could do that herculean task but she knew, knew from her own Jimmy, Jimmy LeBlanc, in his every other day letters that there was no end to the war in sight. Even with everything rationed, or supposed to be.
But let us back up just a bit because there is more to Franny’s peevishness than meets the eye. See Franny was lonesome as hell, and she used that word without blushing to describe her condition to her shocked Jimmy’s Mrs. LeBlanc. Ya, she had the Jimmy (LeBlanc, reason for the last name usage to follow) blues bad for the almost year and a half that he had been gone. Naturally, no saving of the world Jimmy like a ton of LeBlancs and others with French surnames in town had enlisted about two days after Pearl Harbor just to do his “bit” as he said.
Here was Franny’s dilemma though. How was a pretty girl, very pretty if you asked half the breathing boys, hell, grown married men (and maybe some that didn’t breathe so good until a fresh breeze nineteen year old woman looking like Betty Grable and smelling, well, smelling of promises and gardens, edenic or not, came sashaying came pass on Main Street or on the boardwalk over at Old Orchard Beach) to stay true blue when she didn’t know if her boy was coming back, or if he would be wanting her to be waiting when he got back. She had heard stories from Papa Leclerc (her grandfather) about the last war and what it did to guys, guys who asked their girls to wait and then just took off when they hit New York and were never heard from after that. She knew her Jimmy though and when such thoughts passed her day she just keep thinking of their song, If I Didn’t Care.
Funny, she really hated the song, hated it from the very beginning before Jimmy left for boot camp and they decided they just needed a “their song” to keep up morale. Her morale. Truth is she didn’t want him to go, he had a good job down at MacAdams Textile Mill and if he had wanted to he could have been deferred as a war industry guy. But not Jimmy, Jimmy LeBlanc, and his need to do his “bit.” And truth too that is what she found, well, attractive about him although she still hated the song, hated it from the first. But she had promised Jimmy that when she got lonely, or tired, that she would play it. She did, hating it every time. And there were times she had to play it more than a properly waiting for her Jimmy girl should have had to.
And that is where the other Jimmies, LaCroix and Lévesque, came in. Saving the Pacific Rim or European civilization may have been their forte but neither boy (hell, they were only twenty) had enlisted right after Pearl but waited until they were drafted. And while they were patiently waiting they tried to steal, each in turn and separately, Miss Frances Leclerc’s affections away from Jimmy LaCroix. And both lads, given the times and the possibilities, used the same route to carry out their dastardly work. The Friday night dance night at the Surfside Club in Old Orchard Beach.
See Franny and Jimmy (Leblanc, just in case you drifted off) had agreed, or Jimmy had surrendered on the point, that bound to be lonely Franny, after a hard week’s work down at the Portsmouth Naval Yard (doing her own “bit” for the war effort) was entitled to let some steam off dancing the night away. Dancing to the be-bop music of the cover band, Jimmy Jacques and His Band, who played the Dorseys (Tommy and Jimmy), Artie Shaw, Glen Miller, and the rest of the big band gangs. Of course dancing in those days was cheek to cheek or close to it so naturally guys were lining up (and mainly getting turned down) to have a spin with Miss Leclerc (and that maddening sway perfume).
One late fall Friday night up stepped one James LaCroix, all handsome, a little drunk, and a little fresh but just enough fresh to spark the interest of a lonely pining away girl. Franny let him get to first base, but no further. That night she spent about half the left-over of the night playing If I Didn’t Care up in her room. And then one Friday night a couple of months later another handsome, eager, if somewhat shy Jimmy Lévesque got under her skin and took her for a whirl in his car (father’s car, complete with rationed gas) down to the lovers’ lane at Olde Saco Beach (down by the jetty all quiet and isolated except for an early lobster boat making ready for the day’s run) and got to second base with her, no further. She stopped counting the number of times she played “their song” that night and the next day.
So you can see why one Francine Lorraine Leclerc was in no rush, no rush at all, to get to that War Ration Office much before closing.
Joshua Lawrence Breslin comment:
She, Francine Lorraine Leclerc, Franny she to everybody in Old Saco, that is up in Maine, thank you, ever since she could remember, was in no hurry, a conscious no hurry, to get down to the War Ration Office to get her monthly sugar, flour, butter (really oleomargarine), and this and that before it closed on this first day of June, year two of our war, 1943. And the reason that Miss Leclerc was in no hurry was that hurry, or no hurry, she would have to wait in that seemingly endless line for half the afternoon for her goods, such as they were.
So moseying down the street around closing time was just as good as that eternal, infernal waiting, listening to Mrs. La Croix talking about how her Jimmy was saving the world single-handedly from the Japs, or, ditto, Mrs. Lévesque on her Jimmy on the European front. Secretly she wished that either, or both Jimmies, could do that herculean task but she knew, knew from her own Jimmy, Jimmy LeBlanc, in his every other day letters that there was no end to the war in sight. Even with everything rationed, or supposed to be.
But let us back up just a bit because there is more to Franny’s peevishness than meets the eye. See Franny was lonesome as hell, and she used that word without blushing to describe her condition to her shocked Jimmy’s Mrs. LeBlanc. Ya, she had the Jimmy (LeBlanc, reason for the last name usage to follow) blues bad for the almost year and a half that he had been gone. Naturally, no saving of the world Jimmy like a ton of LeBlancs and others with French surnames in town had enlisted about two days after Pearl Harbor just to do his “bit” as he said.
Here was Franny’s dilemma though. How was a pretty girl, very pretty if you asked half the breathing boys, hell, grown married men (and maybe some that didn’t breathe so good until a fresh breeze nineteen year old woman looking like Betty Grable and smelling, well, smelling of promises and gardens, edenic or not, came sashaying came pass on Main Street or on the boardwalk over at Old Orchard Beach) to stay true blue when she didn’t know if her boy was coming back, or if he would be wanting her to be waiting when he got back. She had heard stories from Papa Leclerc (her grandfather) about the last war and what it did to guys, guys who asked their girls to wait and then just took off when they hit New York and were never heard from after that. She knew her Jimmy though and when such thoughts passed her day she just keep thinking of their song, If I Didn’t Care.
Funny, she really hated the song, hated it from the very beginning before Jimmy left for boot camp and they decided they just needed a “their song” to keep up morale. Her morale. Truth is she didn’t want him to go, he had a good job down at MacAdams Textile Mill and if he had wanted to he could have been deferred as a war industry guy. But not Jimmy, Jimmy LeBlanc, and his need to do his “bit.” And truth too that is what she found, well, attractive about him although she still hated the song, hated it from the first. But she had promised Jimmy that when she got lonely, or tired, that she would play it. She did, hating it every time. And there were times she had to play it more than a properly waiting for her Jimmy girl should have had to.
And that is where the other Jimmies, LaCroix and Lévesque, came in. Saving the Pacific Rim or European civilization may have been their forte but neither boy (hell, they were only twenty) had enlisted right after Pearl but waited until they were drafted. And while they were patiently waiting they tried to steal, each in turn and separately, Miss Frances Leclerc’s affections away from Jimmy LaCroix. And both lads, given the times and the possibilities, used the same route to carry out their dastardly work. The Friday night dance night at the Surfside Club in Old Orchard Beach.
See Franny and Jimmy (Leblanc, just in case you drifted off) had agreed, or Jimmy had surrendered on the point, that bound to be lonely Franny, after a hard week’s work down at the Portsmouth Naval Yard (doing her own “bit” for the war effort) was entitled to let some steam off dancing the night away. Dancing to the be-bop music of the cover band, Jimmy Jacques and His Band, who played the Dorseys (Tommy and Jimmy), Artie Shaw, Glen Miller, and the rest of the big band gangs. Of course dancing in those days was cheek to cheek or close to it so naturally guys were lining up (and mainly getting turned down) to have a spin with Miss Leclerc (and that maddening sway perfume).
One late fall Friday night up stepped one James LaCroix, all handsome, a little drunk, and a little fresh but just enough fresh to spark the interest of a lonely pining away girl. Franny let him get to first base, but no further. That night she spent about half the left-over of the night playing If I Didn’t Care up in her room. And then one Friday night a couple of months later another handsome, eager, if somewhat shy Jimmy Lévesque got under her skin and took her for a whirl in his car (father’s car, complete with rationed gas) down to the lovers’ lane at Olde Saco Beach (down by the jetty all quiet and isolated except for an early lobster boat making ready for the day’s run) and got to second base with her, no further. She stopped counting the number of times she played “their song” that night and the next day.
So you can see why one Francine Lorraine Leclerc was in no rush, no rush at all, to get to that War Ration Office much before closing.
From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- Visions Of Jewell -With Bob Dylan’s “Visions Of Johanna” In Mind
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Bob Dylan performing Visions Of Johanna
CD Review
Biograph, Bob Dylan, 3 CD set, Columbia Records, 1985
The other day my old socialist propagandist and gadfly 1960s folk revival commentator friend, Peter Paul Markin, regaled me with some stories about his early experiences following the musical ups and downs of the well-known singer-songwriter from that period, Bob Dylan. The strangest story revolved around Mr. Dylan’s performance at the 1965 Newport (R.I.) Folk Festival, then the premier showcase for virtually anything that could reasonably be called folk or roots music, and having the plug, literally (at least that is the way Pee-Pee told it, although there is a wealth of disputed oral testimony on the subject), pulled on him by one iconic folk legend singer-songwriter Pete Seeger. Why? Apparently the “big tent” of American roots music did not include what has now become known in library CD collections as rather tame folk-rock, or rock-folk. Stuff done with mad amped electric guitar (and other electric instruments) rather than pure traditional acoustic instruments. So much wind as far as I can tell.
Needless to say such a story from back in the day, back in Pee-Pee day sounded bizarre to this writer who came by his Dylan aficionado-hood in the post-plug period (although when we when over the details again later the old arch-Stalinist fellow-traveler strong arm artist Seeger probably was capable of that kind of “soft” bureaucratic music hatchet job). That is those of us from the later edge of the generation of ‘68 who didn’t grow into Dylan singing Kumbaya or Chimes Of Freedom but rather the acid-etched period of the Blonde On Blonde album and stuff like Visions of Johanna. Just that few years made the different. Of course when Pee-Pee and I met on Captain Crunch’s merry prankster yellow brick road bus up on Russian Hill in San Francisco in the late summer of love, 1967 version, all such plugged, unplugged, distinctions were ancient archival history as we “dug” such beauties as Highway 61 Revisted, the above-mentioned Blonde on Blonde, and Bringing It All Back Home without Seeger-ish interference. Just pass the pipe, please.
All this memory stuff though can be kind of tricky for an old man, old men, chattering in back porch Olde Saco face the ocean shoreline spots talking of this or that 1960s glory days memories, and unintended evocations. And evocation is really what drives this little screed. Evocations, or rather visions of Jewell, brought on by an untimely reference to Dylan’s own Visions of Johanna.
See that was our song, our summer of love, 1966 version, song. Jewell DeFarge and me, she of one thousand generations of French-Canadian American fragile beauty creation (okay, maybe I am a little high on the number but no instant beauty stuff). She of our hot Olde Saco High junior year getting ready to take on all comers to find our place in the sun, not the nasty Pee-Pee political place where you were doomed from the start, but starry night in heaven place. Hell, how can I explain it now to make sense? Maybe I will just take a step back describe it in light detail and be done with it, and done with visions too. Maybe.
Truth, in those days, those 1960s days, when I imagined girls (young women) I only thought of Botticelli Renaissance women like I saw down in Boston a bunch of times while hanging around Boston Common and you could hardly walk about ten feet before running in some young woman who a few centuries before would have been proud to model for old Botticelli. You know all airy, and thoughts of butterflies. Some loose garment, a sarong thing, going this way and that, long flowing angel hair, also going this way and that, no make-up but a twice-look beauty anyway, maybe some flowers in her hair, and at peace with herself. Or the look.
Enter Jewell DeFarge, all swirls, butterflies, and magic. And all secret eyes, secret blue eyes that spoke of transport, and less of desire, sexual desire, although that too was present, than elysian fields and midday walks. Strangely, well, maybe not so strangely, we met at the Olde Saco Beach one hot June day. She seeking shade and solitude, shade from the hot sun that would wreak havoc on that Botticelli skin, and solitude because she, like I, wanted to break-out of the common Olde Saco dream of finishing high school, getting some textile mill job or something like that, finding some guy to marriage and turning into our parents. She spoke of candles, burning incense, some reefer madnesses (we had both admitted to taking a few hits of anonymous offered reefer), and cloudless days. She spoke to me.
And so we spent our time together, our summer of love, our ocean swirl, our midday sun bonnet-protected walks, our solitude not speaking, our solitude speaking, and our break-out fever. And we spoke of cloud dreams, of ancient caves to live in, of some thatched peasant hut to live in, of simple seaside desires, and end of desire. But mainly we spoke in softness, in butterfly swirls, in sea spray mists, in cloudless cloudy skies, and, and, but enough. Let’s just call it visions of Jewell, and let’s just call it come September and she was gone, that Botticelli smile, that hair furious in the wind gone. And fifty years later the mystery behind that smile still haunts recalled dreams.
*************
Visions Of Johanna by Bob Dylan
Lyrics
Ain’t it just like the night to play tricks when you’re tryin' to be so quiet?
We sit here stranded, though we’re all doin’ our best to deny it
And Louise holds a handful of rain, temptin’ you to defy it
Lights flicker from the opposite loft
In this room the heat pipes just cough
The country music station plays soft
But there’s nothing, really nothing to turn off
Just Louise and her lover so entwined
And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind
In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman’s bluff with the key chain
And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the “D” train
We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight
Ask himself if it’s him or them that’s really insane
Louise, she’s all right, she’s just near
She’s delicate and seems like the mirror
But she just makes it all too concise and too clear
That Johanna’s not here
The ghost of ’lectricity howls in the bones of her face
Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place
Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously
He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously
And when bringing her name up
He speaks of a farewell kiss to me
He’s sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and all
Muttering small talk at the wall while I’m in the hall
How can I explain?
Oh, it’s so hard to get on
And these visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn
Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial
Voices echo this is what salvation must be like after a while
But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues
You can tell by the way she smiles
See the primitive wallflower freeze
When the jelly-faced women all sneeze
Hear the one with the mustache say, “Jeeze
I can’t find my knees”
Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule
But these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel
The peddler now speaks to the countess who’s pretending to care for him
Sayin’, “Name me someone that’s not a parasite and I’ll go out and say a prayer for him”
But like Louise always says
“Ya can’t look at much, can ya man?”
As she, herself, prepares for him
And Madonna, she still has not showed
We see this empty cage now corrode
Where her cape of the stage once had flowed
The fiddler, he now steps to the road
He writes ev’rything’s been returned which was owed
On the back of the fish truck that loads
While my conscience explodes
The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain
And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain
Copyright © 1966 by Dwarf Music; renewed 1994 by Dwarf Music
CD Review
Biograph, Bob Dylan, 3 CD set, Columbia Records, 1985
The other day my old socialist propagandist and gadfly 1960s folk revival commentator friend, Peter Paul Markin, regaled me with some stories about his early experiences following the musical ups and downs of the well-known singer-songwriter from that period, Bob Dylan. The strangest story revolved around Mr. Dylan’s performance at the 1965 Newport (R.I.) Folk Festival, then the premier showcase for virtually anything that could reasonably be called folk or roots music, and having the plug, literally (at least that is the way Pee-Pee told it, although there is a wealth of disputed oral testimony on the subject), pulled on him by one iconic folk legend singer-songwriter Pete Seeger. Why? Apparently the “big tent” of American roots music did not include what has now become known in library CD collections as rather tame folk-rock, or rock-folk. Stuff done with mad amped electric guitar (and other electric instruments) rather than pure traditional acoustic instruments. So much wind as far as I can tell.
Needless to say such a story from back in the day, back in Pee-Pee day sounded bizarre to this writer who came by his Dylan aficionado-hood in the post-plug period (although when we when over the details again later the old arch-Stalinist fellow-traveler strong arm artist Seeger probably was capable of that kind of “soft” bureaucratic music hatchet job). That is those of us from the later edge of the generation of ‘68 who didn’t grow into Dylan singing Kumbaya or Chimes Of Freedom but rather the acid-etched period of the Blonde On Blonde album and stuff like Visions of Johanna. Just that few years made the different. Of course when Pee-Pee and I met on Captain Crunch’s merry prankster yellow brick road bus up on Russian Hill in San Francisco in the late summer of love, 1967 version, all such plugged, unplugged, distinctions were ancient archival history as we “dug” such beauties as Highway 61 Revisted, the above-mentioned Blonde on Blonde, and Bringing It All Back Home without Seeger-ish interference. Just pass the pipe, please.
All this memory stuff though can be kind of tricky for an old man, old men, chattering in back porch Olde Saco face the ocean shoreline spots talking of this or that 1960s glory days memories, and unintended evocations. And evocation is really what drives this little screed. Evocations, or rather visions of Jewell, brought on by an untimely reference to Dylan’s own Visions of Johanna.
See that was our song, our summer of love, 1966 version, song. Jewell DeFarge and me, she of one thousand generations of French-Canadian American fragile beauty creation (okay, maybe I am a little high on the number but no instant beauty stuff). She of our hot Olde Saco High junior year getting ready to take on all comers to find our place in the sun, not the nasty Pee-Pee political place where you were doomed from the start, but starry night in heaven place. Hell, how can I explain it now to make sense? Maybe I will just take a step back describe it in light detail and be done with it, and done with visions too. Maybe.
Truth, in those days, those 1960s days, when I imagined girls (young women) I only thought of Botticelli Renaissance women like I saw down in Boston a bunch of times while hanging around Boston Common and you could hardly walk about ten feet before running in some young woman who a few centuries before would have been proud to model for old Botticelli. You know all airy, and thoughts of butterflies. Some loose garment, a sarong thing, going this way and that, long flowing angel hair, also going this way and that, no make-up but a twice-look beauty anyway, maybe some flowers in her hair, and at peace with herself. Or the look.
Enter Jewell DeFarge, all swirls, butterflies, and magic. And all secret eyes, secret blue eyes that spoke of transport, and less of desire, sexual desire, although that too was present, than elysian fields and midday walks. Strangely, well, maybe not so strangely, we met at the Olde Saco Beach one hot June day. She seeking shade and solitude, shade from the hot sun that would wreak havoc on that Botticelli skin, and solitude because she, like I, wanted to break-out of the common Olde Saco dream of finishing high school, getting some textile mill job or something like that, finding some guy to marriage and turning into our parents. She spoke of candles, burning incense, some reefer madnesses (we had both admitted to taking a few hits of anonymous offered reefer), and cloudless days. She spoke to me.
And so we spent our time together, our summer of love, our ocean swirl, our midday sun bonnet-protected walks, our solitude not speaking, our solitude speaking, and our break-out fever. And we spoke of cloud dreams, of ancient caves to live in, of some thatched peasant hut to live in, of simple seaside desires, and end of desire. But mainly we spoke in softness, in butterfly swirls, in sea spray mists, in cloudless cloudy skies, and, and, but enough. Let’s just call it visions of Jewell, and let’s just call it come September and she was gone, that Botticelli smile, that hair furious in the wind gone. And fifty years later the mystery behind that smile still haunts recalled dreams.
*************
Visions Of Johanna by Bob Dylan
Lyrics
Ain’t it just like the night to play tricks when you’re tryin' to be so quiet?
We sit here stranded, though we’re all doin’ our best to deny it
And Louise holds a handful of rain, temptin’ you to defy it
Lights flicker from the opposite loft
In this room the heat pipes just cough
The country music station plays soft
But there’s nothing, really nothing to turn off
Just Louise and her lover so entwined
And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind
In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman’s bluff with the key chain
And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the “D” train
We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight
Ask himself if it’s him or them that’s really insane
Louise, she’s all right, she’s just near
She’s delicate and seems like the mirror
But she just makes it all too concise and too clear
That Johanna’s not here
The ghost of ’lectricity howls in the bones of her face
Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place
Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously
He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously
And when bringing her name up
He speaks of a farewell kiss to me
He’s sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and all
Muttering small talk at the wall while I’m in the hall
How can I explain?
Oh, it’s so hard to get on
And these visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn
Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial
Voices echo this is what salvation must be like after a while
But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues
You can tell by the way she smiles
See the primitive wallflower freeze
When the jelly-faced women all sneeze
Hear the one with the mustache say, “Jeeze
I can’t find my knees”
Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule
But these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel
The peddler now speaks to the countess who’s pretending to care for him
Sayin’, “Name me someone that’s not a parasite and I’ll go out and say a prayer for him”
But like Louise always says
“Ya can’t look at much, can ya man?”
As she, herself, prepares for him
And Madonna, she still has not showed
We see this empty cage now corrode
Where her cape of the stage once had flowed
The fiddler, he now steps to the road
He writes ev’rything’s been returned which was owed
On the back of the fish truck that loads
While my conscience explodes
The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain
And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain
Copyright © 1966 by Dwarf Music; renewed 1994 by Dwarf Music
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Songs to While Away The Time By- Bob Dylan’s (Via The Carter Family) “The Girl On The Greenbriar Shore”
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of The Carter Family performing The Girl From The Greenbriar Shore.
Song lyrics to Girl On The Greenbriar Shore:
'Twas in the year of '92,
In the merry month of June,
I left my mother and a home so dear
For the girl I loved on the greenbriar shore
My mother dear, she came to me
And said 'Oh son, don't go, '
'Don't leave your mother and a home so dear
To trust a girl on the greenbriar shore '
But I was young and reckless too,
And I craved a reckless life
I left my mother with a broken heart
And I choosed that girl to be m' wife
Her hair was dark and curly too
And her loving eyes were blue;
Her cheeks were like the red red rose
The girl I loved on the greenbriar shore
The years rolled on and the months rolled by
She left me all alone
Now I remember what mother said
Never trust a girl on the greenbriar shore
Joshua Lawrence Breslin comment:
My old friend Peter Paul Markin (always known as Pee-Pee and not that odd-ball Peter Paul thing like some old time yankee Brahmin was getting ready to crash on his damn Irish-driven head and he needed their two name protection) recently sent me some old Bob Dylan bootleg stuff (christ, who knows what numbers in the series. It will take eons to unravel all the out-takes, remakes, fakes, flakes, and just plain thefts that guy has in his storage vaults that will keep the dwindling number of aficionados going on and on for many years after his demise). That grab bag included his version (really a few changed words and hence prima facie evidence for that theft comment) of The Carter Family’s The Girl From The Greenbriar Shore (which they probably stole from some poor Saturday night hay barn gee down in the hills and hollas of Kentuck, or those environs).
Listening to the lyrics of that song though reminded me of my own green briar girl, my crazy head over heels, run away from home, run away from everything for, Dorothy Donnelly. Let me tell you about it if you have a minute, and maybe a tear. No, forget the tear I went into that thing with my eyes open, wide open. Just listen, okay.
I grew to young manhood up in Olde Saco, that’s in Maine, shoreline Maine, ocean-fronted Maine, down by the shore and everything is alright southern Maine around Portland. I also, for you that know (or knew) the demographics of that neck of the woods, grew to that young manhood despite the surname in a serious French- Canadian American (F.A.s, hereafter) household and neighborhood, you know, the people that made the textile and paper mills run up there before times got tough, real tough right after the war (World War II). Part of that francophone upbringing was an incredible devotion by my mother to the church, the Gallic Roman Catholic Church, for the unknowing. And he passed on that intense devotion on to her children, including me. But it also included, since I was the only boy and the presumptive man of the house if anything happened to my father, kind of coddled, ma coddled. Don’t leave your mother in the lurch sonny boy coddled. And plenty of my high school friends were too.
Part of that coddle was that I would not “leave the faith,” would not leave Olde Saco (really not leave Breslin home), and get this, not marry outside of the French-Canadian community (no heathen Irish or English especially) after I graduated from high school. Yes, mother, yes, mother dear.
Then I met Dorothy Donnelly, jesus, did I meet Dorothy Donnelly. The summer of my junior year in high school I was working a lifeguard job at Point Of Pines over at the far end of Olde Saco Beach where all the heathens gathered (Ma talk) for their summer of fun and frolic. (The F-A’s, local slang, especially those vacationing from Quebec gathered down near the pier, amusement park, bars, and shops.) Now my guard post, all authority and tan, all red swimsuit and safety pak, was down toward the jetty that swung out toward the Saco River where the lobster boats worked the inner seas. In a little cove, just a little sliver of land really, most of the younger girls (young women if you insist, but chicks, really in the terminology of the day), the younger heathen women hung out looking, well, girls, young women, or chicks, looking beautiful especially to one non-heathen F-A (in red trunks).
One day I spied this girl, this real fox, although from a distant she looked, well F-A, kind of slender, long brown hair, nice legs, and no bosom, ya, definitely F.A. What’s more she was looking at me, well, kind of, I found out later. I waved at her and she waved back and then I walked toward her. Oops, definitely not F.A., no way F.A. but still with everything else I just mentioned, except I forgot to say that hair was more reddish than brown, and I forgot to say that come hither smile she gave me every time I asked her a question. Irish, Irish to the core, no question.
Naturally any sixteen year old guy, F.A. attached to Ma or not, was going to work his magic on such a fox and see what happens. Of course all bug-eyed I did not pick up on the fact that she (1) was staying with an aunt because of some “vague” problems with her family back home in Marshfield down in Irish Riviera Massachusetts and (2), she had a “kind of ” boyfriend back home. So I plunged ahead and asked her for a date, she said yes, and we were off. Off to Seal Rock a couple of nights later in her aunt’s car. Now for the uninformed Seal Rock (not its real name) is named that because that is where every local “hot” couple went to “watch the submarine races,” a local term for, hell you know, doing it, the thing, sex, whatever that might turn into and “seal” the deed with names chiseled on the rock. (You know, by the way, as well as I do, or you should, there have been no submarine races off Seal Rock since about 1942 when somebody though they saw a German U-Boat offshore and all hell broke when it turned out to be some maiden voyage thing for some sub from the Bath Irons Works, chirst)
Well it didn’t take long to go crazy over Dorothy, about another week. And she seemed wild about me too, or gave that impression. One night, one deep Seal Rock night she said, flat out, “Let’s go over to New Hampshire and get married (sixteen, actually younger, I think was the legal age to get married then there).” I was so perfume-whipped, so long reddish hair whipped, so nice legs whipped, so, you know, whipped, that I said yes. Let me go home and get my stuff and we would be off. When I went to get my stuff Ma (really meme, okay) was there, looking furious.
Somehow she had received information for unnamed sources ( I still marvel at that ma grapevine the F.A. mothers, hell, maybe all mothers, had when errant sons and daughters were involved) that I was seen with a heathen girl (jesus I am embarrassed to even say that now) and what about it, and don’t lie. Well I didn’t, or rather just a little. I said Dorothy was half-French on her mother’s side like me. No soap, no dice, no go. Heathen. Then she gave a classic twenty minute, maybe longer, screed about heathens. Finally she was done, or just ran out of hot day steam. I left without saying anything about where I was going, or anything. Ya, it was one of those Ma days that you all know about.
I went out the door, got into the car, and we headed over to Dorothy’s aunt’s place. As we entered the aunt’s drive-way I saw another car parked there. Some 1959 great two-toned Chevy that every guy at school was drooling over. And in that car was a tall guy, maybe eighteen, maybe nineteen, who called Dorothy over to him. I noticed that he was holding Dorothy’s hand kind of tight, like he was trying to lead her somewhere. And she wasn’t really resisting so much as kind of pouting, girl not getting her way pouting. I went up to this tall guy and asked what the hell (I think I used that exact word) was he doing to my girl. He laughed, laughed out loud, "Your girl? Dorothy and I have been married for the past three months. That’s why her parents sent her up here to her aunt’s place. I’m bringing her home to set up house now that I am eighteen.” Bang went my brain. And with my mouth open, wide open they roared off in his car.
Just so you know I in my three marriages (counting the present one) I never married “in the faith,” I never married a girl from the F.A. community and I never married a girl from Olde Saco. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t to spite Ma but to honor of Dorothy Donnelly. See every time I see that old worn out guard tower at Point of Pines or see those initials J.B. and D.D. carved inside a crude heart on the face of Seal Rock I think ruefully of that summer and her.
Song lyrics to Girl On The Greenbriar Shore:
'Twas in the year of '92,
In the merry month of June,
I left my mother and a home so dear
For the girl I loved on the greenbriar shore
My mother dear, she came to me
And said 'Oh son, don't go, '
'Don't leave your mother and a home so dear
To trust a girl on the greenbriar shore '
But I was young and reckless too,
And I craved a reckless life
I left my mother with a broken heart
And I choosed that girl to be m' wife
Her hair was dark and curly too
And her loving eyes were blue;
Her cheeks were like the red red rose
The girl I loved on the greenbriar shore
The years rolled on and the months rolled by
She left me all alone
Now I remember what mother said
Never trust a girl on the greenbriar shore
Joshua Lawrence Breslin comment:
My old friend Peter Paul Markin (always known as Pee-Pee and not that odd-ball Peter Paul thing like some old time yankee Brahmin was getting ready to crash on his damn Irish-driven head and he needed their two name protection) recently sent me some old Bob Dylan bootleg stuff (christ, who knows what numbers in the series. It will take eons to unravel all the out-takes, remakes, fakes, flakes, and just plain thefts that guy has in his storage vaults that will keep the dwindling number of aficionados going on and on for many years after his demise). That grab bag included his version (really a few changed words and hence prima facie evidence for that theft comment) of The Carter Family’s The Girl From The Greenbriar Shore (which they probably stole from some poor Saturday night hay barn gee down in the hills and hollas of Kentuck, or those environs).
Listening to the lyrics of that song though reminded me of my own green briar girl, my crazy head over heels, run away from home, run away from everything for, Dorothy Donnelly. Let me tell you about it if you have a minute, and maybe a tear. No, forget the tear I went into that thing with my eyes open, wide open. Just listen, okay.
I grew to young manhood up in Olde Saco, that’s in Maine, shoreline Maine, ocean-fronted Maine, down by the shore and everything is alright southern Maine around Portland. I also, for you that know (or knew) the demographics of that neck of the woods, grew to that young manhood despite the surname in a serious French- Canadian American (F.A.s, hereafter) household and neighborhood, you know, the people that made the textile and paper mills run up there before times got tough, real tough right after the war (World War II). Part of that francophone upbringing was an incredible devotion by my mother to the church, the Gallic Roman Catholic Church, for the unknowing. And he passed on that intense devotion on to her children, including me. But it also included, since I was the only boy and the presumptive man of the house if anything happened to my father, kind of coddled, ma coddled. Don’t leave your mother in the lurch sonny boy coddled. And plenty of my high school friends were too.
Part of that coddle was that I would not “leave the faith,” would not leave Olde Saco (really not leave Breslin home), and get this, not marry outside of the French-Canadian community (no heathen Irish or English especially) after I graduated from high school. Yes, mother, yes, mother dear.
Then I met Dorothy Donnelly, jesus, did I meet Dorothy Donnelly. The summer of my junior year in high school I was working a lifeguard job at Point Of Pines over at the far end of Olde Saco Beach where all the heathens gathered (Ma talk) for their summer of fun and frolic. (The F-A’s, local slang, especially those vacationing from Quebec gathered down near the pier, amusement park, bars, and shops.) Now my guard post, all authority and tan, all red swimsuit and safety pak, was down toward the jetty that swung out toward the Saco River where the lobster boats worked the inner seas. In a little cove, just a little sliver of land really, most of the younger girls (young women if you insist, but chicks, really in the terminology of the day), the younger heathen women hung out looking, well, girls, young women, or chicks, looking beautiful especially to one non-heathen F-A (in red trunks).
One day I spied this girl, this real fox, although from a distant she looked, well F-A, kind of slender, long brown hair, nice legs, and no bosom, ya, definitely F.A. What’s more she was looking at me, well, kind of, I found out later. I waved at her and she waved back and then I walked toward her. Oops, definitely not F.A., no way F.A. but still with everything else I just mentioned, except I forgot to say that hair was more reddish than brown, and I forgot to say that come hither smile she gave me every time I asked her a question. Irish, Irish to the core, no question.
Naturally any sixteen year old guy, F.A. attached to Ma or not, was going to work his magic on such a fox and see what happens. Of course all bug-eyed I did not pick up on the fact that she (1) was staying with an aunt because of some “vague” problems with her family back home in Marshfield down in Irish Riviera Massachusetts and (2), she had a “kind of ” boyfriend back home. So I plunged ahead and asked her for a date, she said yes, and we were off. Off to Seal Rock a couple of nights later in her aunt’s car. Now for the uninformed Seal Rock (not its real name) is named that because that is where every local “hot” couple went to “watch the submarine races,” a local term for, hell you know, doing it, the thing, sex, whatever that might turn into and “seal” the deed with names chiseled on the rock. (You know, by the way, as well as I do, or you should, there have been no submarine races off Seal Rock since about 1942 when somebody though they saw a German U-Boat offshore and all hell broke when it turned out to be some maiden voyage thing for some sub from the Bath Irons Works, chirst)
Well it didn’t take long to go crazy over Dorothy, about another week. And she seemed wild about me too, or gave that impression. One night, one deep Seal Rock night she said, flat out, “Let’s go over to New Hampshire and get married (sixteen, actually younger, I think was the legal age to get married then there).” I was so perfume-whipped, so long reddish hair whipped, so nice legs whipped, so, you know, whipped, that I said yes. Let me go home and get my stuff and we would be off. When I went to get my stuff Ma (really meme, okay) was there, looking furious.
Somehow she had received information for unnamed sources ( I still marvel at that ma grapevine the F.A. mothers, hell, maybe all mothers, had when errant sons and daughters were involved) that I was seen with a heathen girl (jesus I am embarrassed to even say that now) and what about it, and don’t lie. Well I didn’t, or rather just a little. I said Dorothy was half-French on her mother’s side like me. No soap, no dice, no go. Heathen. Then she gave a classic twenty minute, maybe longer, screed about heathens. Finally she was done, or just ran out of hot day steam. I left without saying anything about where I was going, or anything. Ya, it was one of those Ma days that you all know about.
I went out the door, got into the car, and we headed over to Dorothy’s aunt’s place. As we entered the aunt’s drive-way I saw another car parked there. Some 1959 great two-toned Chevy that every guy at school was drooling over. And in that car was a tall guy, maybe eighteen, maybe nineteen, who called Dorothy over to him. I noticed that he was holding Dorothy’s hand kind of tight, like he was trying to lead her somewhere. And she wasn’t really resisting so much as kind of pouting, girl not getting her way pouting. I went up to this tall guy and asked what the hell (I think I used that exact word) was he doing to my girl. He laughed, laughed out loud, "Your girl? Dorothy and I have been married for the past three months. That’s why her parents sent her up here to her aunt’s place. I’m bringing her home to set up house now that I am eighteen.” Bang went my brain. And with my mouth open, wide open they roared off in his car.
Just so you know I in my three marriages (counting the present one) I never married “in the faith,” I never married a girl from the F.A. community and I never married a girl from Olde Saco. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t to spite Ma but to honor of Dorothy Donnelly. See every time I see that old worn out guard tower at Point of Pines or see those initials J.B. and D.D. carved inside a crude heart on the face of Seal Rock I think ruefully of that summer and her.
From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- Before Bo Diddley Put The Rock In Rock And Roll-Way Before- A CD Review (Of Sorts)
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of the Memphis Jug Band (with a special guest) performing their classic Kokomo.
CD Review
Before The Blues; The Early American Black Music Scene –Classic Recordings from the 1920s and 1930s, Volume Two, various artists, Yazoo Records, 1996
Recently in reviewing a Masters Of Blues compilation composes of many of the greats from the R&B era like Ruth Brown, Louis Jordan, and Llyod Price, the era just before my generation of ‘68s childhood mid-1950s great rock and roll jail breakout I posed the question of who, or what Bo, Diddley (or your favorite for the honor) listening to before he put the rock in rock and roll. Today I take that same notion and step back one more generation to the great, mostly black, musical influences of the 1920s and 1930s. And pose that same question. Who did Big Joe Turner have his ear turned to when he put the rhythm into R&B.
This Jazz Age, this first serious generation of record buyers and radio listeners, was filled with all kind of wanna-bes searching for that right sound that would carry them to success. Needless to say the music had to reach down to those who could not afford concerts, musical halls or the Paul Whitman Band at the country club. So the music had to reach anyway it could (most interestingly in the primitive instruments, and great sound, of the various jug and sheik bands of the era) those hard-working five and one half sweat- shop workers, those hot Delta sun cotton plantation workers, and the others seeking refuge on a Saturday at the local juke joint, the local barn dance or the local lodge hall rented out for the occasion.
And the music had to touch that religious chord too, because sure as hell come Sunday morning, drunk or sober, there was payment due for Saturday nights brawls, fist fights, deep sea diving, etc. Repent sinner. So the two strands had to mesh, barrelhouse and storefront church. And the selections here from Frank Stokes, Eck Robertson, the Memphis Jug Band. Charley Patton, Blind Willie Johnson give great examples of those two strands. And you can feel that first blush wave forming that would, after World War II, get electrified, get jumped up, and get R&Bed (ouch). Then, of course, comes you know what. And if you don’t just think Bo.
CD Review
Before The Blues; The Early American Black Music Scene –Classic Recordings from the 1920s and 1930s, Volume Two, various artists, Yazoo Records, 1996
Recently in reviewing a Masters Of Blues compilation composes of many of the greats from the R&B era like Ruth Brown, Louis Jordan, and Llyod Price, the era just before my generation of ‘68s childhood mid-1950s great rock and roll jail breakout I posed the question of who, or what Bo, Diddley (or your favorite for the honor) listening to before he put the rock in rock and roll. Today I take that same notion and step back one more generation to the great, mostly black, musical influences of the 1920s and 1930s. And pose that same question. Who did Big Joe Turner have his ear turned to when he put the rhythm into R&B.
This Jazz Age, this first serious generation of record buyers and radio listeners, was filled with all kind of wanna-bes searching for that right sound that would carry them to success. Needless to say the music had to reach down to those who could not afford concerts, musical halls or the Paul Whitman Band at the country club. So the music had to reach anyway it could (most interestingly in the primitive instruments, and great sound, of the various jug and sheik bands of the era) those hard-working five and one half sweat- shop workers, those hot Delta sun cotton plantation workers, and the others seeking refuge on a Saturday at the local juke joint, the local barn dance or the local lodge hall rented out for the occasion.
And the music had to touch that religious chord too, because sure as hell come Sunday morning, drunk or sober, there was payment due for Saturday nights brawls, fist fights, deep sea diving, etc. Repent sinner. So the two strands had to mesh, barrelhouse and storefront church. And the selections here from Frank Stokes, Eck Robertson, the Memphis Jug Band. Charley Patton, Blind Willie Johnson give great examples of those two strands. And you can feel that first blush wave forming that would, after World War II, get electrified, get jumped up, and get R&Bed (ouch). Then, of course, comes you know what. And if you don’t just think Bo.
#YO SOY 132
#YO SOY 132
Un movimiento importante en Mexico actualmente es la lucha contra el fraude electoral, la represion policial y la corrupcion endemica. Este movimiento comenzo cuando 131 estudiantes de la Universidad Iberoamericana rechaza la presencia de Pena Nieto. Ahora han comenzado a tofnar medidas para impedir la eleccion el 1 de julio del presente ano y de ser robados por un regimen criminal. Su movimiento ha llegado a ser conocido como "Yo Soy 132." Yo Soy 132 ha emitido una solicitud para estudiantes internacionales y otros activistas en el mundo a manifestarse en solidaridad con ellos. Es su esperanza que el llamar la atencion internacional sobre la corrupcion electoral de Mexico, puede ayudar a asegurar una eleccion justa.
Su peticion fue publicada en YouTube y puede servista en: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kSiuTmYihWQ&feature=
Occupy Boston invita a todas las organizaciones e individuos que apoyan esta causa a unirse a nuestra manifestacion de solidaridad con "#Yo Soy 132" frente al consulado mexicano en Boston el 29 de junio, 4-6 PM.
For information or to get involved contact the following: YoSoy132BostonSolidarity page on Facebook or histheman(o)qma il.com.
Un movimiento importante en Mexico actualmente es la lucha contra el fraude electoral, la represion policial y la corrupcion endemica. Este movimiento comenzo cuando 131 estudiantes de la Universidad Iberoamericana rechaza la presencia de Pena Nieto. Ahora han comenzado a tofnar medidas para impedir la eleccion el 1 de julio del presente ano y de ser robados por un regimen criminal. Su movimiento ha llegado a ser conocido como "Yo Soy 132." Yo Soy 132 ha emitido una solicitud para estudiantes internacionales y otros activistas en el mundo a manifestarse en solidaridad con ellos. Es su esperanza que el llamar la atencion internacional sobre la corrupcion electoral de Mexico, puede ayudar a asegurar una eleccion justa.
Su peticion fue publicada en YouTube y puede servista en: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kSiuTmYihWQ&feature=
Occupy Boston invita a todas las organizaciones e individuos que apoyan esta causa a unirse a nuestra manifestacion de solidaridad con "#Yo Soy 132" frente al consulado mexicano en Boston el 29 de junio, 4-6 PM.
For information or to get involved contact the following: YoSoy132BostonSolidarity page on Facebook or histheman(o)qma il.com.
SHOW OF SOLIDARITY WITH MEXICAN STUDENTS PROTESTING ELECTION FRAUD AND STATE VIOLENCE, JUNE 29™, 4-6 PM AT THE MEXICAN CONSULATE, 20 PARK PLAZA, BOSTON
SHOW OF SOLIDARITY WITH MEXICAN STUDENTS PROTESTING ELECTION FRAUD AND STATE VIOLENCE, JUNE 29™, 4-6 PM AT THE MEXICAN CONSULATE, 20 PARK PLAZA, BOSTON
#YO SOY 132
A major movement in Mexico is presently fighting against election fraud, police repression, and endemic corruption. This movement began when 131 students began to take action to prevent the July 1st election from being stolen by a criminal regime; their movement has come to be known as "Yo Soy 132." Yo Soy 132 has issued a request for international students and other activists globally to demonstrate in solidarity with them in the run up to the Mexican election on July 1st. It is their hope that calling international attention to Mexico's electoral corruption they may help to ensure a fair election. Their appeal was issued on youtube and may be seen at: http://www.voutube.com/watch?v=kSjuTmYihWQ&feature=share
Occupy Boston invites all organizations and individuals who support this cause to join our demonstration of solidarity with Yo Soy 132 outside the Mexican consulate in Boston on June 29th, 4-6 PM.
For information or to get involved contact the following:
YoSoy132BostonSolidarity page on Facebook or histheman@qmail.com.
#YO SOY 132
A major movement in Mexico is presently fighting against election fraud, police repression, and endemic corruption. This movement began when 131 students began to take action to prevent the July 1st election from being stolen by a criminal regime; their movement has come to be known as "Yo Soy 132." Yo Soy 132 has issued a request for international students and other activists globally to demonstrate in solidarity with them in the run up to the Mexican election on July 1st. It is their hope that calling international attention to Mexico's electoral corruption they may help to ensure a fair election. Their appeal was issued on youtube and may be seen at: http://www.voutube.com/watch?v=kSjuTmYihWQ&feature=share
Occupy Boston invites all organizations and individuals who support this cause to join our demonstration of solidarity with Yo Soy 132 outside the Mexican consulate in Boston on June 29th, 4-6 PM.
For information or to get involved contact the following:
YoSoy132BostonSolidarity page on Facebook or histheman@qmail.com.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin-Before Bo Diddley Put The Rock In Rock And Roll- A CD Review (Kind Of)
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Ruth Brown holding forth in the be-bop 1950s R&B night.
CD Review
The Blues Masters: The Essential Blues Collection: Volume 11-More Jump Blues, various artists including Ruth Brown, Rhino Records, 1993
Recently in reviewing (sort of, this kind of review is not my forte) a Norman Blake CD, Whiskey Before Breakfast, I noted that as a kid I was very averse to listening to that mountain music stuff since it was my father’s hillbilly Appalachia home of hills and hollows music (after all I was growing up in “big time” city boy Olde Saco up in Maine). The other kind of music around my 1950s growing up absurd house was “their” music, my parents coming through the great depression of the1930s and surviving (and she waiting, waiting on pins and needles for his safe return) music, jump, jitterbug, R&B,call it what you may.
Not exactly the rock and roll that I was enthralled with. No Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, Elvis, Jerry Lee and the like to stir the blood. But every once in a while I would catch some riff that sounded like it might get to rock, but then faded just short. And the album under review, The Blues Masters: More Jump Blues, is filled with just such work. Of course, a little later when I caught the blues bug in the early 1960s all this music, this quintessential R&B, made great sense in in combination with rockabilly as the genesis of rock and roll. But back then it was just my parents’ music. You know, square.
So when somebody, anybody, asks you the question-“Who put the rock in rock and roll?”- you can automatically answer Bo Diddley (or your favorite choice). But if asked who put the bug in old Bo’s ear then just tell them that the likes of Louis Jordan, Ruth Brown, Big Joe Turner, LaVern Baker, Big Maybell (who I actually first heard in the early 1960s late at night listening to “The Big Bopper Blues Blast” out of some dark of mega-watt radio station in Chicago), Lloyd Price and Wynonie Harris and the others compiled on this CD and you can be smart, very smart.
CD Review
The Blues Masters: The Essential Blues Collection: Volume 11-More Jump Blues, various artists including Ruth Brown, Rhino Records, 1993
Recently in reviewing (sort of, this kind of review is not my forte) a Norman Blake CD, Whiskey Before Breakfast, I noted that as a kid I was very averse to listening to that mountain music stuff since it was my father’s hillbilly Appalachia home of hills and hollows music (after all I was growing up in “big time” city boy Olde Saco up in Maine). The other kind of music around my 1950s growing up absurd house was “their” music, my parents coming through the great depression of the1930s and surviving (and she waiting, waiting on pins and needles for his safe return) music, jump, jitterbug, R&B,call it what you may.
Not exactly the rock and roll that I was enthralled with. No Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, Elvis, Jerry Lee and the like to stir the blood. But every once in a while I would catch some riff that sounded like it might get to rock, but then faded just short. And the album under review, The Blues Masters: More Jump Blues, is filled with just such work. Of course, a little later when I caught the blues bug in the early 1960s all this music, this quintessential R&B, made great sense in in combination with rockabilly as the genesis of rock and roll. But back then it was just my parents’ music. You know, square.
So when somebody, anybody, asks you the question-“Who put the rock in rock and roll?”- you can automatically answer Bo Diddley (or your favorite choice). But if asked who put the bug in old Bo’s ear then just tell them that the likes of Louis Jordan, Ruth Brown, Big Joe Turner, LaVern Baker, Big Maybell (who I actually first heard in the early 1960s late at night listening to “The Big Bopper Blues Blast” out of some dark of mega-watt radio station in Chicago), Lloyd Price and Wynonie Harris and the others compiled on this CD and you can be smart, very smart.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Vamos a redoblar nuestros esfuerzos para salvar privado Bradley Manning-Que todas las Plaza de la Ciudad A Bradley Manning Plaza De Boston a nosotros Berkeley
Markin comentario:
El caso de Bradley Manning privado se encamina hacia un juicio otoño. Aquellos de nosotros que apoyan su causa, debemos redoblar nuestros esfuerzos para asegurar su libertad. Para los últimos meses ha habido una vigilia semanal en el área metropolitana de Boston frente a la Plaza de Davis Redline MBTA parada (rebautizada Plaza de Bradley Manning para la duración de la vigilia) en Somerville de 1:00-14:00 los viernes. Esta vigilia tiene, por decir lo menos, ha sido muy poca asistencia. Tenemos que construir con más seguidores presentes. Por favor, únase a nosotros cuando pueda. O mejor aún si usted no puede unirse a nosotros iniciar una vigilia de apoyo Bradley Manning la semana en algún lugar en su ciudad ya sea en el área de Boston o Berkeley. Y por favor, firmen la petición para su liberación. He puesto enlaces a la red de Manning y Manning sitio web de la plaza de abajo.
Bradley Manning Support Network
http://www.bradleymanning.org/~~V
Manning Plaza de página web
http://freemanz.com/2012/01/20/somerville_paper_photo-bradmanningsquare/bradleymanningsquare-2011_01_13/
Los siguientes son comentarios que se han centrado en los últimos tiempos para conseguir apoyo para la causa Bradley Manning.
Veteranos por la Paz se yergue en la solidaridad y la defensa de los soldado Bradley Manning.
Nosotros, los del movimiento anti-guerra no pudieron hacer mucho para afectar el gobierno de Bush-Obama Irak calendario guerra, pero podemos salvar uno de los héroes de esa guerra, Bradley Manning.
Estoy en solidaridad con las supuestas acciones de soldado Bradley Manning en sacar a la luz, sólo un poco de luz, algunos de los nefastos hechos relacionados con la guerra de este gobierno, el gobierno de Bush y Obama. Si lo hiciera tales actos no son delito. Ningún crimen en absoluto en mis ojos o en los ojos de la gran mayorÃa de la gente que conoce del caso y de su importancia como un acto individual de resistencia a las injustas y bárbaras encabezadas por Estados Unidos las guerras en Irak y Afganistán. Duermo un poco de sombra más fácil en estos dÃas a sabiendas de que Manning podrÃa haber expuesto lo que todos sabÃan, o debÃan haber sabido, la guerra de Irak y de las justificaciones de la guerra afgana se basaba en un castillo de naipes. El imperialismo estadounidense pistolero castillo de naipes, pero las tarjetas, sin embargo.
Estoy de pie en solidaridad con el soldado Bradley Manning, porque estoy indignado por el trato dado a Manning, presumiblemente un hombre inocente, por un gobierno que afirma a sà misma como un "faro" del mundo civilizado. Bradley Manning se habÃa celebrado en la solidaridad en Quantico y otras localidades de más de 500 dÃas, y ha sido detenido sin juicio durante mucho más tiempo, ya que el gobierno y sus fuerzas armadas tratan de pegar un caso juntos. Los militares y sus secuaces en el Departamento de Justicia, se han vuelto más tortuosa, aunque no más inteligente desde que era un soldado en la mira más de cuarenta años.
Estas son razones más que suficientes para estar en solidaridad con el soldado Manning y lo será hasta el dÃa en que es liberado por sus carceleros. Y voy a seguir para estar en solidaridad con el soldado Manning orgullosos hasta ese gran dÃa.
La retirada inmediata e incondicional de todas las tropas estadounidenses / Allied y mercenarios de Afganistán! Manos Fuera de Irán! GuÃas gratuitas de Bradley Manning ahora!
El caso de Bradley Manning privado se encamina hacia un juicio otoño. Aquellos de nosotros que apoyan su causa, debemos redoblar nuestros esfuerzos para asegurar su libertad. Para los últimos meses ha habido una vigilia semanal en el área metropolitana de Boston frente a la Plaza de Davis Redline MBTA parada (rebautizada Plaza de Bradley Manning para la duración de la vigilia) en Somerville de 1:00-14:00 los viernes. Esta vigilia tiene, por decir lo menos, ha sido muy poca asistencia. Tenemos que construir con más seguidores presentes. Por favor, únase a nosotros cuando pueda. O mejor aún si usted no puede unirse a nosotros iniciar una vigilia de apoyo Bradley Manning la semana en algún lugar en su ciudad ya sea en el área de Boston o Berkeley. Y por favor, firmen la petición para su liberación. He puesto enlaces a la red de Manning y Manning sitio web de la plaza de abajo.
Bradley Manning Support Network
http://www.bradleymanning.org/~~V
Manning Plaza de página web
http://freemanz.com/2012/01/20/somerville_paper_photo-bradmanningsquare/bradleymanningsquare-2011_01_13/
Los siguientes son comentarios que se han centrado en los últimos tiempos para conseguir apoyo para la causa Bradley Manning.
Veteranos por la Paz se yergue en la solidaridad y la defensa de los soldado Bradley Manning.
Nosotros, los del movimiento anti-guerra no pudieron hacer mucho para afectar el gobierno de Bush-Obama Irak calendario guerra, pero podemos salvar uno de los héroes de esa guerra, Bradley Manning.
Estoy en solidaridad con las supuestas acciones de soldado Bradley Manning en sacar a la luz, sólo un poco de luz, algunos de los nefastos hechos relacionados con la guerra de este gobierno, el gobierno de Bush y Obama. Si lo hiciera tales actos no son delito. Ningún crimen en absoluto en mis ojos o en los ojos de la gran mayorÃa de la gente que conoce del caso y de su importancia como un acto individual de resistencia a las injustas y bárbaras encabezadas por Estados Unidos las guerras en Irak y Afganistán. Duermo un poco de sombra más fácil en estos dÃas a sabiendas de que Manning podrÃa haber expuesto lo que todos sabÃan, o debÃan haber sabido, la guerra de Irak y de las justificaciones de la guerra afgana se basaba en un castillo de naipes. El imperialismo estadounidense pistolero castillo de naipes, pero las tarjetas, sin embargo.
Estoy de pie en solidaridad con el soldado Bradley Manning, porque estoy indignado por el trato dado a Manning, presumiblemente un hombre inocente, por un gobierno que afirma a sà misma como un "faro" del mundo civilizado. Bradley Manning se habÃa celebrado en la solidaridad en Quantico y otras localidades de más de 500 dÃas, y ha sido detenido sin juicio durante mucho más tiempo, ya que el gobierno y sus fuerzas armadas tratan de pegar un caso juntos. Los militares y sus secuaces en el Departamento de Justicia, se han vuelto más tortuosa, aunque no más inteligente desde que era un soldado en la mira más de cuarenta años.
Estas son razones más que suficientes para estar en solidaridad con el soldado Manning y lo será hasta el dÃa en que es liberado por sus carceleros. Y voy a seguir para estar en solidaridad con el soldado Manning orgullosos hasta ese gran dÃa.
La retirada inmediata e incondicional de todas las tropas estadounidenses / Allied y mercenarios de Afganistán! Manos Fuera de Irán! GuÃas gratuitas de Bradley Manning ahora!
Let’s Redouble Our Efforts To Save Private Bradley Manning-Make Every Town Square A Bradley Manning Square From Boston To Berkeley-Join Us In Davis Square, Somerville Every Friday-1:00-2:00 PM [Note: Beginning July 4th The Vigil Will Be Every Wednesday From 4:00-5:00 PM]
Click on the headline to link to a the Private Bradley Manning Petition website page.
Markin comment:
The Private Bradley Manning case is headed toward a late fall/early winter trial. Those of us who support his cause should redouble our efforts to secure his freedom. For the past several months there has been a weekly vigil in Greater Boston across from the Davis Square Redline MBTA stop (renamed Bradley Manning Square for the vigil’s duration) in Somerville from 1:00-2:00 PM on Fridays. This vigil has, to say the least, been very sparsely attended. We need to build it up with more supporters present. Please join us when you can. Or better yet if you can’t join us start a Support Bradley Manning weekly vigil in some location in your town whether it is in the Boston area or Berkeley. And please sign the petition for his release. I have placed links to the Manning Network and Manning Square website below.
Bradley Manning Support Network
http://www.bradleymanning.org/
Manning Square website
http://freemanz.com/2012/01/20/somerville_paper_photo-bradmanningsquare/bradleymanningsquare-2011_01_13/
The following are remarks that I have been focusing on of late to build support for Bradley Manning’s cause.
Veterans for Peace proudly stands in solidarity with, and defense of, Private Bradley Manning.
We of the anti-war movement were not able to do much to affect the Bush- Obama Iraq War timetable but we can save the one hero of that war, Bradley Manning.
I stand in solidarity with the alleged actions of Private Bradley Manning in bringing to light, just a little light, some of the nefarious war-related doings of this government, under Bush and Obama. If he did such acts they are no crime. No crime at all in my eyes or in the eyes of the vast majority of people who know of the case and of its importance as an individual act of resistance to the unjust and barbaric American-led wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I sleep just a shade bit easier these days knowing that Private Manning may have exposed what we all knew, or should have known- the Iraq war and the Afghan war justifications rested on a house of cards. American imperialism’s gun-toting house of cards, but cards nevertheless.
I am standing in solidarity with Private Bradley Manning because I am outraged by the treatment meted out to Private Manning, presumably an innocent man, by a government who alleges itself to be some “beacon” of the civilized world. Bradley Manning had been held in solidarity at Quantico and other locales for over 500 days, and has been held without trial for much longer, as the government and its military try to glue a case together. The military, and its henchmen in the Justice Department, have gotten more devious although not smarter since I was a soldier in their crosshairs over forty years ago.
These are more than sufficient reasons to stand in solidarity with Private Manning and will be until the day he is freed by his jailers. And I will continue to stand in proud solidarity with Private Manning until that great day.
Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal of All U.S./Allied Troops And Mercenaries From Afghanistan! Hands Off Iran! Free Bradley Manning Now!
************
"God knows what happens now. Hopefully worldwide discussion, debates, and reforms...
I want people to see the truth... because without information, you cannot make informed decisions as a public."
—online chat attributed to Army RFC Bradley Manning
Accused Wikileaks Whistleblower Bradley Manning,
a 23-year-old US Army intelligence analyst, is accused of sharing a video of the killing of civilians— including two Reuters journalists—by a US helicopter in Baghdad, Iraq with the Wikileaks website.
He is also charged with blowing the whistle on the Afghan War Diary, the Iraq War Logs, and revealing US diplomatic cables. In short, he's been charged with telling us the truth.
The video and documents have illuminated the true number and cause of civilian casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan, human rights abuses by U.S.-funded contractors and foreign militaries, and the role that spying and brines play in international diplomacy.
Half of every edition of The New York Times has cited one or more of these documents during the past year. The leaks have caused Amnesty International to hail Wikileaks for catalyzing the democratic middle eastern revolutions and changing journalism forever.
What happens now is up to YOU!
Never before in U.S. history has someone been charged with "Aiding the enemy through indirect means" by making information public.
A massive; popular outpouring of support for Bradley Manning is needed to save his life.
We are at a turning point in our nation's history. Will we as a public demand greater transparency and accountability from pur elected leaders? Will we be governed by fear and secrecy? Will we accept endless war fought with our tax dollars? Or, will we demand the right to know the truth—the real foundation of democracy.
Here are some actions you should take now to support Bradley:
» Visitwww.standwithbrad.org to sign the petition. Then join our photo petition at iam.bradleymanning.org
» Join our facebook page, savebradley,
to receive campaign updates, and follow SaveBradley on twitter
» Visitwww.bradleymanning.org and
download our Organizer Toolkit to learn howyou can educate community members, gain media attention, and donate toward Bradley's defense.
The People Have the Right to Know...
Visit wvwv.braclleymaiiniiig.org to learn howyou can take action!
************
What did WikiLeaks reveal?
.
"In no case shall information be classified... in order to: conceal violations of law, inefficiency, or administrative error; prevent embarrassment to a person, organization, or agency... or prevent or delay the release of information that does not require protection in the interest of the national security."
—Executive Order 13526, Sec. 7.7. Classification Prohibitions and Limitations
"Is this embarrassing? Yes. Is this awkward? Yes. Consequences for U.S. foreign policy? I think fairly modest."
—Robert Gates, Unites States Secretary of Defense
PFC Bradley Manning is a US Army intelligence specialist who is accused of releasing classified information to WikiLeaks, an organization that he allegedly understood would release portions of the information to news organizations and ultimately to the public.
Was the information that PFC Manning is accused of leaking classified for our protection and national security, as government officials contend? Or do the revelations provide the American public with information that we should have had access to in the first place? Just
what are these revelations? Below are some key facts that PFC Manning is accused of making public.
There is an official policy to ignore torture in Iraq.
The "Iraq War Logs" published by WikiLeaks revealed that thousands of reports of prisoner abuse and torture had been filed against the Iraqi Security Forces. Medical evidence detailed how prisoners had been whipped with heavy cables across the feet, hung from ceiling hooks, suffered holes being bored into their legs with electric drills, urinated upon, and sexually assaulted. These logs also revealed the existence of "Frago 242,"an order implemented in 2004 not to investigate allegations of abuse against the. Iraqi government This order is a direct violation of the UN Convention Against Torture, which was ratified by the United States in 1994. The Convention prohibits the Armed Forces from transferring a detainee to other countries "where there are substantial grounds for believing that he would be in danger of being subjected to torture." According to the State Department's own reports, the U.S. government was already aware that the Iraqi Security Forces engaged in torture (1).
U.S. officials were told to cover up evidence of child abuse by contractors in Afghanistan.
U.S. defense contractors were brought under much tighter supervision after leaked diplomatic cables revealed that they had been complicit in child trafficking activities. DynCorp — a powerful defense contracting firm that claims almost $2 billion per year in revenue from U.S. tax dollars — threw a party for Afghan security recruits featuring boys purchased from child traffickers for entertainment. DynCorp had already faced human trafficking charges before this incident took place. According to the cables, Afghan Interior minister HanifAtmar urged the assistant US ambassadorto"quash"the story.These revelations have been a driving factor behind recent calls for the removal of all U.S. defense contractors from Afghanistan (2).
Guantanamo prison has held mostly innocent people and low-level operatives.
The Guantanamo Files describe how detainees were arrested based on what the New York Times referred to as highly subjective evidence. For example, some poor farmers were captured after they were found wearing a common watch or a jacket that was the same as those also worn by Al Queda operatives. How quickly innocent prisoners were released was heavily dependent on their country of origin. Because the evidence collected against Guantanamo prisoners is not permissible in U.S. courts, the U.S. State Department has offered millions of dollars to other countries to take and try our prisoners. According to a U.S. diplomatic cable written on April 17, 2009, the Association for the Dignity of Spanish Prisoners requested that the National Court indict six former U.S. officials for creating a legal framework that allegedly permitted torture against five Spanish prisoners. However,"Senator Mel Martinez... met Acting FM [Foreign Minister] AngelLossada... on April 15. Martinez... -underscored that the prosecutions would not be understood or accepted in the U.S. and would have an enormous impact on the bilateral relationship"(3).
There is an official tally of civilian deaths in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Even though the Bush and Obama Administrations maintained publicly that there was no official count of civilian casualties, the Iraq and Afghanistan War Logs showed that this claim was false. Between 2004 and 2009, the U.S. government counted a total of 109,000 deaths in Iraq, with 66,081 classified as non-combatants. This means that for every Iraqi death that is classified as a combatant, two innocent men, women or children are also killed (4),
FOOTNOTES:
(1)Alex Spillius, "Wikileaks: Iraq War Logs show US ignored torture allega-
tions,"Telegraph, October 22,2010. http://www.telegrapti.co.uk/news/
woridnews/middleeast/iraq/8082223/WiMleab-lraq-War-Logs-show-US-
ignored-torture-allegations.html.
(2)foreign contractors hired Afghan 'dancing boys; WikiLeaks cable
reveals'guanJian.co.uk, December 2,2010, http://www.guardian.co.tik/
world/2010/dec/02/foreign-contractors-hired-dancing-boys
(3) Scott Shane and Benjamin Weiser.The Guatanamo Files: Judging Detainees'Risk, Often With Rawed Evidence'New York Times, April 24,2011, http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/2S/world/guantanamo-files-flawed-evidence-for-assessing-risk.html;'US embassy cables: Don't pursue Guantanamo criminal case, says Spanish attorney general'guardian.co.uk, December 1,2010, http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/us-embassy-cables-documents/202776.
(4) Iraq War Logs Reveal 15,000 Previously Unlisted Civilian Deaths,' guard-ian.co.uk, October 22,2010, http://www.guardian.co.uk/won'd/2010/ oct/22/true-civilian-body-count-iraq
Markin comment:
The Private Bradley Manning case is headed toward a late fall/early winter trial. Those of us who support his cause should redouble our efforts to secure his freedom. For the past several months there has been a weekly vigil in Greater Boston across from the Davis Square Redline MBTA stop (renamed Bradley Manning Square for the vigil’s duration) in Somerville from 1:00-2:00 PM on Fridays. This vigil has, to say the least, been very sparsely attended. We need to build it up with more supporters present. Please join us when you can. Or better yet if you can’t join us start a Support Bradley Manning weekly vigil in some location in your town whether it is in the Boston area or Berkeley. And please sign the petition for his release. I have placed links to the Manning Network and Manning Square website below.
Bradley Manning Support Network
http://www.bradleymanning.org/
Manning Square website
http://freemanz.com/2012/01/20/somerville_paper_photo-bradmanningsquare/bradleymanningsquare-2011_01_13/
The following are remarks that I have been focusing on of late to build support for Bradley Manning’s cause.
Veterans for Peace proudly stands in solidarity with, and defense of, Private Bradley Manning.
We of the anti-war movement were not able to do much to affect the Bush- Obama Iraq War timetable but we can save the one hero of that war, Bradley Manning.
I stand in solidarity with the alleged actions of Private Bradley Manning in bringing to light, just a little light, some of the nefarious war-related doings of this government, under Bush and Obama. If he did such acts they are no crime. No crime at all in my eyes or in the eyes of the vast majority of people who know of the case and of its importance as an individual act of resistance to the unjust and barbaric American-led wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I sleep just a shade bit easier these days knowing that Private Manning may have exposed what we all knew, or should have known- the Iraq war and the Afghan war justifications rested on a house of cards. American imperialism’s gun-toting house of cards, but cards nevertheless.
I am standing in solidarity with Private Bradley Manning because I am outraged by the treatment meted out to Private Manning, presumably an innocent man, by a government who alleges itself to be some “beacon” of the civilized world. Bradley Manning had been held in solidarity at Quantico and other locales for over 500 days, and has been held without trial for much longer, as the government and its military try to glue a case together. The military, and its henchmen in the Justice Department, have gotten more devious although not smarter since I was a soldier in their crosshairs over forty years ago.
These are more than sufficient reasons to stand in solidarity with Private Manning and will be until the day he is freed by his jailers. And I will continue to stand in proud solidarity with Private Manning until that great day.
Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal of All U.S./Allied Troops And Mercenaries From Afghanistan! Hands Off Iran! Free Bradley Manning Now!
************
"God knows what happens now. Hopefully worldwide discussion, debates, and reforms...
I want people to see the truth... because without information, you cannot make informed decisions as a public."
—online chat attributed to Army RFC Bradley Manning
Accused Wikileaks Whistleblower Bradley Manning,
a 23-year-old US Army intelligence analyst, is accused of sharing a video of the killing of civilians— including two Reuters journalists—by a US helicopter in Baghdad, Iraq with the Wikileaks website.
He is also charged with blowing the whistle on the Afghan War Diary, the Iraq War Logs, and revealing US diplomatic cables. In short, he's been charged with telling us the truth.
The video and documents have illuminated the true number and cause of civilian casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan, human rights abuses by U.S.-funded contractors and foreign militaries, and the role that spying and brines play in international diplomacy.
Half of every edition of The New York Times has cited one or more of these documents during the past year. The leaks have caused Amnesty International to hail Wikileaks for catalyzing the democratic middle eastern revolutions and changing journalism forever.
What happens now is up to YOU!
Never before in U.S. history has someone been charged with "Aiding the enemy through indirect means" by making information public.
A massive; popular outpouring of support for Bradley Manning is needed to save his life.
We are at a turning point in our nation's history. Will we as a public demand greater transparency and accountability from pur elected leaders? Will we be governed by fear and secrecy? Will we accept endless war fought with our tax dollars? Or, will we demand the right to know the truth—the real foundation of democracy.
Here are some actions you should take now to support Bradley:
» Visitwww.standwithbrad.org to sign the petition. Then join our photo petition at iam.bradleymanning.org
» Join our facebook page, savebradley,
to receive campaign updates, and follow SaveBradley on twitter
» Visitwww.bradleymanning.org and
download our Organizer Toolkit to learn howyou can educate community members, gain media attention, and donate toward Bradley's defense.
The People Have the Right to Know...
Visit wvwv.braclleymaiiniiig.org to learn howyou can take action!
************
What did WikiLeaks reveal?
.
"In no case shall information be classified... in order to: conceal violations of law, inefficiency, or administrative error; prevent embarrassment to a person, organization, or agency... or prevent or delay the release of information that does not require protection in the interest of the national security."
—Executive Order 13526, Sec. 7.7. Classification Prohibitions and Limitations
"Is this embarrassing? Yes. Is this awkward? Yes. Consequences for U.S. foreign policy? I think fairly modest."
—Robert Gates, Unites States Secretary of Defense
PFC Bradley Manning is a US Army intelligence specialist who is accused of releasing classified information to WikiLeaks, an organization that he allegedly understood would release portions of the information to news organizations and ultimately to the public.
Was the information that PFC Manning is accused of leaking classified for our protection and national security, as government officials contend? Or do the revelations provide the American public with information that we should have had access to in the first place? Just
what are these revelations? Below are some key facts that PFC Manning is accused of making public.
There is an official policy to ignore torture in Iraq.
The "Iraq War Logs" published by WikiLeaks revealed that thousands of reports of prisoner abuse and torture had been filed against the Iraqi Security Forces. Medical evidence detailed how prisoners had been whipped with heavy cables across the feet, hung from ceiling hooks, suffered holes being bored into their legs with electric drills, urinated upon, and sexually assaulted. These logs also revealed the existence of "Frago 242,"an order implemented in 2004 not to investigate allegations of abuse against the. Iraqi government This order is a direct violation of the UN Convention Against Torture, which was ratified by the United States in 1994. The Convention prohibits the Armed Forces from transferring a detainee to other countries "where there are substantial grounds for believing that he would be in danger of being subjected to torture." According to the State Department's own reports, the U.S. government was already aware that the Iraqi Security Forces engaged in torture (1).
U.S. officials were told to cover up evidence of child abuse by contractors in Afghanistan.
U.S. defense contractors were brought under much tighter supervision after leaked diplomatic cables revealed that they had been complicit in child trafficking activities. DynCorp — a powerful defense contracting firm that claims almost $2 billion per year in revenue from U.S. tax dollars — threw a party for Afghan security recruits featuring boys purchased from child traffickers for entertainment. DynCorp had already faced human trafficking charges before this incident took place. According to the cables, Afghan Interior minister HanifAtmar urged the assistant US ambassadorto"quash"the story.These revelations have been a driving factor behind recent calls for the removal of all U.S. defense contractors from Afghanistan (2).
Guantanamo prison has held mostly innocent people and low-level operatives.
The Guantanamo Files describe how detainees were arrested based on what the New York Times referred to as highly subjective evidence. For example, some poor farmers were captured after they were found wearing a common watch or a jacket that was the same as those also worn by Al Queda operatives. How quickly innocent prisoners were released was heavily dependent on their country of origin. Because the evidence collected against Guantanamo prisoners is not permissible in U.S. courts, the U.S. State Department has offered millions of dollars to other countries to take and try our prisoners. According to a U.S. diplomatic cable written on April 17, 2009, the Association for the Dignity of Spanish Prisoners requested that the National Court indict six former U.S. officials for creating a legal framework that allegedly permitted torture against five Spanish prisoners. However,"Senator Mel Martinez... met Acting FM [Foreign Minister] AngelLossada... on April 15. Martinez... -underscored that the prosecutions would not be understood or accepted in the U.S. and would have an enormous impact on the bilateral relationship"(3).
There is an official tally of civilian deaths in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Even though the Bush and Obama Administrations maintained publicly that there was no official count of civilian casualties, the Iraq and Afghanistan War Logs showed that this claim was false. Between 2004 and 2009, the U.S. government counted a total of 109,000 deaths in Iraq, with 66,081 classified as non-combatants. This means that for every Iraqi death that is classified as a combatant, two innocent men, women or children are also killed (4),
FOOTNOTES:
(1)Alex Spillius, "Wikileaks: Iraq War Logs show US ignored torture allega-
tions,"Telegraph, October 22,2010. http://www.telegrapti.co.uk/news/
woridnews/middleeast/iraq/8082223/WiMleab-lraq-War-Logs-show-US-
ignored-torture-allegations.html.
(2)foreign contractors hired Afghan 'dancing boys; WikiLeaks cable
reveals'guanJian.co.uk, December 2,2010, http://www.guardian.co.tik/
world/2010/dec/02/foreign-contractors-hired-dancing-boys
(3) Scott Shane and Benjamin Weiser.The Guatanamo Files: Judging Detainees'Risk, Often With Rawed Evidence'New York Times, April 24,2011, http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/2S/world/guantanamo-files-flawed-evidence-for-assessing-risk.html;'US embassy cables: Don't pursue Guantanamo criminal case, says Spanish attorney general'guardian.co.uk, December 1,2010, http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/us-embassy-cables-documents/202776.
(4) Iraq War Logs Reveal 15,000 Previously Unlisted Civilian Deaths,' guard-ian.co.uk, October 22,2010, http://www.guardian.co.uk/won'd/2010/ oct/22/true-civilian-body-count-iraq
From The "American Left History" Archives-Let Us Solemnly Commemorate OWS On September 17th Each Year- And Move On- Radical Writer Joshua Lawrence Breslin Pulls The Hammer Down On The Occupy Movement
Markin comment:
“…The Occupy movement has now declared unequivocally that it is a movement of generals without an army. And likes it that way ”- from an article, Whither Occupy?”- by Joshua Lawrence Breslin in the East Bay Other, December 22, 2011.
Note that Brother Breslin ( I will explain that bond in a minute) did not say that the Occupy movement was an army without generals. Josh’s finely-tuned sense of which way a movement is heading and why picked that nugget out long before this writer in early spring had to concede the point, a sense he has developed, by the way, over forty years of writing for half the unread ( just kidding , Josh), and in some cases unlamented , radical and progressive journals and newspapers in this country. Brother Breslin always had shape antennae for the ebb and flow of social movements going back to the 1960s when he saw the ebb of those high heaven movements fall apart around the 1969 “Days Of Rage” at a time when I did not see the ebb until the 1971 May Day Tribe attempts in Washington, D.C. to shut the government down over the ever-continuing Vietnam War. So Josh Breslin is somebody I listen to.
Back in December I, as usual, dismissed his remarks as so much bad air as a result of having been burned by some of his experiences on the West Coast (his base for many years, although he resides now mostly near his old home town of Olde Saco up in Maine) and at the Occupy Boston site at Dewey Square. I, in what now seems like a fit of hubris, defended the movement as just about the best thing since sliced bread. Oh sure I had my fair share of criticisms, criticisms from a socialist perspective about the “no demands” demands and the like. However I saw most of the stuff that I disliked as “growing pains” and particularly held out hope for the General Assembly idea as the embryo of an alternative form of government in our new world a-borning .
Josh, if he is honest, will admit that he too shared some of my “generation of ‘68” hopes that this new movement would be the place where we passed on the torch the next generation (really the next next generation, there is a “missing generation (roughly the Occupy kids’ parents). Now those hopes have dissolved in the spring air and that son of a bitch proved right again.
Why have I spilled so much cyberspace “ink” on the august opinions of an old-time radical writer? Simply put because I recently was approached by a “true believer,” a self-described socialist ‘true believer” in the Occupy mission to answer some questions about my take on what socialists contributed (or didn’t ) to the movement and other questions along those lines. Naturally when such questions are raised I turn to my old comrade Josh for his opinions, suggestions, etc. Josh and I have shared many a picket line duty, many a lonely vigil, many a forlorn march for some underpublicized cause, and many a rally for some aspect of the world’s ills so our bonds of brotherhood run deep, even if we seldom agree on political perspectives. I have placed his answers to that true believer’s questions below. To finish up though let me quote his closing remark which has been telegraphed in the headline to this piece. “Let’s solemnly commemorate September 17th each year-and move on.” Pure Josh Breslin. But, damn him, he’s right-again.
***********
[Markin: I have deleted questions that Josh, for his own reasons, did not answer. My answers will form part of that true believer’s essay so I have not included them here. ]
Socialists in the Occupy Movement (Massachusetts)
I'm trying to keep this Massachusetts specific, but feel free to refer to national events when applicable.
Feel free to send this to other socialists who may be interested in answering questions.
Feel free to skip any questions that are not applicable by writing N/A.
Share links to relevant articles where appropriate.
1. Your name? Or if you prefer to use a pen-name for this interview, please write it down.
Joshua Lawrence Breslin (my by-line name but just Josh in mixed company, mixed being political and non-political)
2. What socialist organization are you a part of? Or if you are an independent socialist, do you have some other affiliation (journal, union, etc.)?
Independent Socialist-East Bay Other , Real Paper, The Barb, Boston Phoenix, Rolling Stone, Green Weekly, and too many other papers and journals to mention
3. How would you describe yourself ideologically?
Traced from youth- Catholic Worker etched-liberalism (same as Markin except that his was Irish mine Gallic-derived) , Cold War social democracy, communist fellow traveler radical –League Of California Radicals, now for many years, an independent radical
4. When did either you or your organization get involved in the Occupy Movement (specifically in Massachusetts)?
I attended the pre-encampment meetings before September 30th, had a writing assignment at Occupy Oakland for most of October and early November, came back and worked at Dewey Square from then on.
5. Did you or anyone from organization camp out in an Occupy encampment?
Are you serious? No. Old men do not “camp out” on the highway. And young people shouldn’t either.
8. How would you characterize Occupy's relation/reception to socialists ideas? Good? Bad? Indifferent? –
Indifferent but a studied indifference to any ideas beyond the mush of “ideas” that held the camp together. I once commented that for a political movement that then held the public center of attention there was less political discussion at Occupy than I had run into off-handedly in various pre-Occupy rallies and marches in which I had participated. That observation has only gotten stronger as the movement has fallen apart.
11. Were you a part of any Occupy working groups? Which ones and your assessment?
Socialist Caucus-short-lived, not well-attended and mainly a “mail-drop” and endorsement vehicle for other actions, including those which I supported and sought endorsements for. The caucus I believe pretty accurately reflected the weaknesses of the non-academic socialist movement in Boston (and probably more generally the radical milieu) as far as numbers go, desire for an all-inclusive socialist organization where groups and individuals could fight out their politics while doing the necessary united front work that has to drive the movement in this period, and general post-Soviet demise indifferent and/or hostility to socialism beyond the endlessly prattled passive poll figure that the younger generations now have a more positive attitude toward socialist ideas and do not want to shoot every socialist on sight.
Action for Peace-mainly the same observations as for the Socialist Caucus except that it really was kind of redundant to Veterans for Peace and UNAC organizational efforts reflecting the composition of the members of the group. Most successful action was as part of the February Hands Off Iran rally but that event, a real united front rather than Occupy event, demonstrates the redundant nature of the group. As a general observation about the working groups I would note that pre-Occupy organizations, for a time, found it worthwhile, and rightly so, I think, to work under the Occupy umbrella. Of late I note that most groups now work under their previous individual organizational forms and not under the Occupy umbrella.
General Strike OB- planning for May Day 2012. The best group I worked with, again too small for the task, the general strike task that originally animated its formation. Made up of a core of anarchists who were very hard-working but who also (as I did) kept some distance from OB GA (except for dough). To the extent that it might help you I have placed my May 2012 reflections here.
**********
I have noted on several previous occasions that due to the recent absence of serious left-wing political struggle (prior to the events at Occupy Boston in Dewey Square from October to December 2011anyway) that our tasks for May Day 2012 in Boston centered on reviving the international working class tradition beyond the limited observance by revolutionaries, radicals and, in recent years, immigrants. This effort would thus not be a one event, one year but require a number of years and that this year’s efforts was just a start. We have made that start.
The important thing this year was to bring Boston in line with the international movement, to have leftist militants and others see our struggles here as part of an international struggle even if our actions were, for now, more symbolic and educational than powerful blows at the imperial system. I believe, despite the bad weather and consequently smaller than anticipated numbers on May Day 2012, we achieved that aim. Through months of hard outreach, especially over the past several weeks as the day approached, we put out much propaganda and information about the events through the various media with which we have access. The message of this May Day, a day without the 99%, got a full hearing by people from the unions, immigrant communities, student milieu and other sectors like the women’s movement and GLBQT community. The connections and contacts made are valuable for our further efforts.
Some participants that spoke to me on May Day (and others who had expressed the same concerns on earlier occasions) believed that we had “bitten off more than we could chew,” by having an all-day series of events. While I am certainly open to hear criticism on the start time of the day’s events (7:00AM does stretch the imagination for night-owlish militants) the idea of several events starting with that early Financial District Block Party and continuing on with the 11:00 AM Anti-Capitalist March which fed into the noontime rally at Boston City Hall Plaza and then switching over to the immigrant community marches and rally capped off that evening by the sober, solemn and visually impression “Death Of Capitalism” funeral procession still seems right to me. Given our task –introducing (really re-introducing) May Day to a wider Boston audience we needed to provide a number of times and events where people could, consciously, contribute to the day’s celebration. Maybe some year our side will be able to call for a one event May Day mass rally (or better a general strike) but that is music for the future.
Needless to say, as occurs almost any time you have many events and a certain need to have them coordinated, there were some problems from technical stuff like mic set-ups to someone forgetting something important, or not showing at the right time, etc. Growing pains. Nevertheless all the scheduled events happened, we had minimum hassles from the police, and a couple of events really stick out as exemplars for future May Days. The Anti-Capitalist March from Copley Square, mainly in a downpour, led by many young militants and which fed into the noontime City Hall rally was spirited and gave me hope that someday (someday soon, I hope) we are going to bring this imperial monster down. The already mentioned funeral procession was an extremely creative (and oft-forgotten by us) alternative way to get our message across outside the “normal” ham-handed, jack-booted political screed.
Finally, a word or two on organization. The Occupy-May Day Coalition personnel base was too small, way too small even for our limited goals. We need outreach early (early next year) to get enough organizer-type people on board to push forward. More broadly on outreach I believe, and partially this was a function of being too small an organizing center, we spent too much time “preaching to the choir”-going to events, talking to people already politically convinced , talking among ourselves rather than get out into the broader political milieu. For next year (which will not be an election year) we really need union and community people (especially people of color) to “smooth” the way for us. We never got that one (although we want more than one ultimately) respected middle-level still militant union official or community organizer that people, working people, listen to and who would listen to us with his or her nod. Radical or bourgeois politics, down at the base, you still need the people that the people listen to. Forward to May Day 2013.
12. Did you or your organization bring any proposals to a General Assembly? How were those proposals received?
As noted the General Strike proposals, in line with the national and international thrust for May Day were well-received, including for money. I would note that during the post-encampment period GA served as more of a “mail drop” and endorsement vehicle similar to the working groups I was involved with. If couched in the right language and sufficiently genetic (read; noncontroversial) most proposals that I was associated with passed with a minimum of friction. The main point though is to trace the political demise of GA from an October “people’s voice” operation to a “rump” in the post encampment period. Its writ did not run very far (and maybe never did except in the political winds). That was highlighted by May Day where the central Occupy struggle event (the Financial District Block Party) fizzled, fizzled badly. As I said back in December “we are generals without an army.” People, including political genius Markin, thought I was crazy when I first said that, but as usual, my political antennae were very sharp.
13. What do you or your organization perceive as the weaknesses of Occupy? Please elaborate.
See most of above. I will just outline here as a summary. Too attached to the camp idea beyond its usefulness. Too caught up in camp details once it became a “homeless shelter” toward the end of October. A studied lack of serious political discussion beyond platitudes. No demands which ordinary people could organize around and fight for. And desperately need to fight for too. Too wedded to the almost politically infantile ideas that formed the movement (mic check, endless GA prattle, absolute consensus, non-representative assemblies, moral blocks). Too many marches and rallies without purpose other than to proclaim 99%-dom. Too wedded to a purely social media concept of revolution in the U.S. and not taking into consideration the differences between here and let’s say, in Egypt. No links, other than formal and those tenuous, to organized labor, blacks, Latinos, working women, non-radicalized students, ordinary working people, hard-pressed suburban home-owners, etc. Unwillingness, incapacity, or even awareness of political timing of the need to shift perspective as the movement fell apart in winter and spring. Too wedded to the “leaderless” leader concept. In short all the problems that one should have expected of a movement that “had” it for a political minute last fall and essentially squandered it. That is a hard thing to swallow for me. Harder still it is not something that can really be addressed (at least for Boston) at this late date.
14. Any campaigns that you/organization have been involved in? (ex. Occupy the T). In what way?
See above.
15. Where do you see the Occupy movement going from here?
As I said above -… “we are generals without an army.” From all appearances of late that looks like the situation for the future as well. I would note that from the declining number of active working groups, smaller size of those groups, and the rather cult-like actions of the remnant of OB GA it is not good. We should have a solemn commemoration for the OWS movement every September 17th- and move on.
“…The Occupy movement has now declared unequivocally that it is a movement of generals without an army. And likes it that way ”- from an article, Whither Occupy?”- by Joshua Lawrence Breslin in the East Bay Other, December 22, 2011.
Note that Brother Breslin ( I will explain that bond in a minute) did not say that the Occupy movement was an army without generals. Josh’s finely-tuned sense of which way a movement is heading and why picked that nugget out long before this writer in early spring had to concede the point, a sense he has developed, by the way, over forty years of writing for half the unread ( just kidding , Josh), and in some cases unlamented , radical and progressive journals and newspapers in this country. Brother Breslin always had shape antennae for the ebb and flow of social movements going back to the 1960s when he saw the ebb of those high heaven movements fall apart around the 1969 “Days Of Rage” at a time when I did not see the ebb until the 1971 May Day Tribe attempts in Washington, D.C. to shut the government down over the ever-continuing Vietnam War. So Josh Breslin is somebody I listen to.
Back in December I, as usual, dismissed his remarks as so much bad air as a result of having been burned by some of his experiences on the West Coast (his base for many years, although he resides now mostly near his old home town of Olde Saco up in Maine) and at the Occupy Boston site at Dewey Square. I, in what now seems like a fit of hubris, defended the movement as just about the best thing since sliced bread. Oh sure I had my fair share of criticisms, criticisms from a socialist perspective about the “no demands” demands and the like. However I saw most of the stuff that I disliked as “growing pains” and particularly held out hope for the General Assembly idea as the embryo of an alternative form of government in our new world a-borning .
Josh, if he is honest, will admit that he too shared some of my “generation of ‘68” hopes that this new movement would be the place where we passed on the torch the next generation (really the next next generation, there is a “missing generation (roughly the Occupy kids’ parents). Now those hopes have dissolved in the spring air and that son of a bitch proved right again.
Why have I spilled so much cyberspace “ink” on the august opinions of an old-time radical writer? Simply put because I recently was approached by a “true believer,” a self-described socialist ‘true believer” in the Occupy mission to answer some questions about my take on what socialists contributed (or didn’t ) to the movement and other questions along those lines. Naturally when such questions are raised I turn to my old comrade Josh for his opinions, suggestions, etc. Josh and I have shared many a picket line duty, many a lonely vigil, many a forlorn march for some underpublicized cause, and many a rally for some aspect of the world’s ills so our bonds of brotherhood run deep, even if we seldom agree on political perspectives. I have placed his answers to that true believer’s questions below. To finish up though let me quote his closing remark which has been telegraphed in the headline to this piece. “Let’s solemnly commemorate September 17th each year-and move on.” Pure Josh Breslin. But, damn him, he’s right-again.
***********
[Markin: I have deleted questions that Josh, for his own reasons, did not answer. My answers will form part of that true believer’s essay so I have not included them here. ]
Socialists in the Occupy Movement (Massachusetts)
I'm trying to keep this Massachusetts specific, but feel free to refer to national events when applicable.
Feel free to send this to other socialists who may be interested in answering questions.
Feel free to skip any questions that are not applicable by writing N/A.
Share links to relevant articles where appropriate.
1. Your name? Or if you prefer to use a pen-name for this interview, please write it down.
Joshua Lawrence Breslin (my by-line name but just Josh in mixed company, mixed being political and non-political)
2. What socialist organization are you a part of? Or if you are an independent socialist, do you have some other affiliation (journal, union, etc.)?
Independent Socialist-East Bay Other , Real Paper, The Barb, Boston Phoenix, Rolling Stone, Green Weekly, and too many other papers and journals to mention
3. How would you describe yourself ideologically?
Traced from youth- Catholic Worker etched-liberalism (same as Markin except that his was Irish mine Gallic-derived) , Cold War social democracy, communist fellow traveler radical –League Of California Radicals, now for many years, an independent radical
4. When did either you or your organization get involved in the Occupy Movement (specifically in Massachusetts)?
I attended the pre-encampment meetings before September 30th, had a writing assignment at Occupy Oakland for most of October and early November, came back and worked at Dewey Square from then on.
5. Did you or anyone from organization camp out in an Occupy encampment?
Are you serious? No. Old men do not “camp out” on the highway. And young people shouldn’t either.
8. How would you characterize Occupy's relation/reception to socialists ideas? Good? Bad? Indifferent? –
Indifferent but a studied indifference to any ideas beyond the mush of “ideas” that held the camp together. I once commented that for a political movement that then held the public center of attention there was less political discussion at Occupy than I had run into off-handedly in various pre-Occupy rallies and marches in which I had participated. That observation has only gotten stronger as the movement has fallen apart.
11. Were you a part of any Occupy working groups? Which ones and your assessment?
Socialist Caucus-short-lived, not well-attended and mainly a “mail-drop” and endorsement vehicle for other actions, including those which I supported and sought endorsements for. The caucus I believe pretty accurately reflected the weaknesses of the non-academic socialist movement in Boston (and probably more generally the radical milieu) as far as numbers go, desire for an all-inclusive socialist organization where groups and individuals could fight out their politics while doing the necessary united front work that has to drive the movement in this period, and general post-Soviet demise indifferent and/or hostility to socialism beyond the endlessly prattled passive poll figure that the younger generations now have a more positive attitude toward socialist ideas and do not want to shoot every socialist on sight.
Action for Peace-mainly the same observations as for the Socialist Caucus except that it really was kind of redundant to Veterans for Peace and UNAC organizational efforts reflecting the composition of the members of the group. Most successful action was as part of the February Hands Off Iran rally but that event, a real united front rather than Occupy event, demonstrates the redundant nature of the group. As a general observation about the working groups I would note that pre-Occupy organizations, for a time, found it worthwhile, and rightly so, I think, to work under the Occupy umbrella. Of late I note that most groups now work under their previous individual organizational forms and not under the Occupy umbrella.
General Strike OB- planning for May Day 2012. The best group I worked with, again too small for the task, the general strike task that originally animated its formation. Made up of a core of anarchists who were very hard-working but who also (as I did) kept some distance from OB GA (except for dough). To the extent that it might help you I have placed my May 2012 reflections here.
**********
I have noted on several previous occasions that due to the recent absence of serious left-wing political struggle (prior to the events at Occupy Boston in Dewey Square from October to December 2011anyway) that our tasks for May Day 2012 in Boston centered on reviving the international working class tradition beyond the limited observance by revolutionaries, radicals and, in recent years, immigrants. This effort would thus not be a one event, one year but require a number of years and that this year’s efforts was just a start. We have made that start.
The important thing this year was to bring Boston in line with the international movement, to have leftist militants and others see our struggles here as part of an international struggle even if our actions were, for now, more symbolic and educational than powerful blows at the imperial system. I believe, despite the bad weather and consequently smaller than anticipated numbers on May Day 2012, we achieved that aim. Through months of hard outreach, especially over the past several weeks as the day approached, we put out much propaganda and information about the events through the various media with which we have access. The message of this May Day, a day without the 99%, got a full hearing by people from the unions, immigrant communities, student milieu and other sectors like the women’s movement and GLBQT community. The connections and contacts made are valuable for our further efforts.
Some participants that spoke to me on May Day (and others who had expressed the same concerns on earlier occasions) believed that we had “bitten off more than we could chew,” by having an all-day series of events. While I am certainly open to hear criticism on the start time of the day’s events (7:00AM does stretch the imagination for night-owlish militants) the idea of several events starting with that early Financial District Block Party and continuing on with the 11:00 AM Anti-Capitalist March which fed into the noontime rally at Boston City Hall Plaza and then switching over to the immigrant community marches and rally capped off that evening by the sober, solemn and visually impression “Death Of Capitalism” funeral procession still seems right to me. Given our task –introducing (really re-introducing) May Day to a wider Boston audience we needed to provide a number of times and events where people could, consciously, contribute to the day’s celebration. Maybe some year our side will be able to call for a one event May Day mass rally (or better a general strike) but that is music for the future.
Needless to say, as occurs almost any time you have many events and a certain need to have them coordinated, there were some problems from technical stuff like mic set-ups to someone forgetting something important, or not showing at the right time, etc. Growing pains. Nevertheless all the scheduled events happened, we had minimum hassles from the police, and a couple of events really stick out as exemplars for future May Days. The Anti-Capitalist March from Copley Square, mainly in a downpour, led by many young militants and which fed into the noontime City Hall rally was spirited and gave me hope that someday (someday soon, I hope) we are going to bring this imperial monster down. The already mentioned funeral procession was an extremely creative (and oft-forgotten by us) alternative way to get our message across outside the “normal” ham-handed, jack-booted political screed.
Finally, a word or two on organization. The Occupy-May Day Coalition personnel base was too small, way too small even for our limited goals. We need outreach early (early next year) to get enough organizer-type people on board to push forward. More broadly on outreach I believe, and partially this was a function of being too small an organizing center, we spent too much time “preaching to the choir”-going to events, talking to people already politically convinced , talking among ourselves rather than get out into the broader political milieu. For next year (which will not be an election year) we really need union and community people (especially people of color) to “smooth” the way for us. We never got that one (although we want more than one ultimately) respected middle-level still militant union official or community organizer that people, working people, listen to and who would listen to us with his or her nod. Radical or bourgeois politics, down at the base, you still need the people that the people listen to. Forward to May Day 2013.
12. Did you or your organization bring any proposals to a General Assembly? How were those proposals received?
As noted the General Strike proposals, in line with the national and international thrust for May Day were well-received, including for money. I would note that during the post-encampment period GA served as more of a “mail drop” and endorsement vehicle similar to the working groups I was involved with. If couched in the right language and sufficiently genetic (read; noncontroversial) most proposals that I was associated with passed with a minimum of friction. The main point though is to trace the political demise of GA from an October “people’s voice” operation to a “rump” in the post encampment period. Its writ did not run very far (and maybe never did except in the political winds). That was highlighted by May Day where the central Occupy struggle event (the Financial District Block Party) fizzled, fizzled badly. As I said back in December “we are generals without an army.” People, including political genius Markin, thought I was crazy when I first said that, but as usual, my political antennae were very sharp.
13. What do you or your organization perceive as the weaknesses of Occupy? Please elaborate.
See most of above. I will just outline here as a summary. Too attached to the camp idea beyond its usefulness. Too caught up in camp details once it became a “homeless shelter” toward the end of October. A studied lack of serious political discussion beyond platitudes. No demands which ordinary people could organize around and fight for. And desperately need to fight for too. Too wedded to the almost politically infantile ideas that formed the movement (mic check, endless GA prattle, absolute consensus, non-representative assemblies, moral blocks). Too many marches and rallies without purpose other than to proclaim 99%-dom. Too wedded to a purely social media concept of revolution in the U.S. and not taking into consideration the differences between here and let’s say, in Egypt. No links, other than formal and those tenuous, to organized labor, blacks, Latinos, working women, non-radicalized students, ordinary working people, hard-pressed suburban home-owners, etc. Unwillingness, incapacity, or even awareness of political timing of the need to shift perspective as the movement fell apart in winter and spring. Too wedded to the “leaderless” leader concept. In short all the problems that one should have expected of a movement that “had” it for a political minute last fall and essentially squandered it. That is a hard thing to swallow for me. Harder still it is not something that can really be addressed (at least for Boston) at this late date.
14. Any campaigns that you/organization have been involved in? (ex. Occupy the T). In what way?
See above.
15. Where do you see the Occupy movement going from here?
As I said above -… “we are generals without an army.” From all appearances of late that looks like the situation for the future as well. I would note that from the declining number of active working groups, smaller size of those groups, and the rather cult-like actions of the remnant of OB GA it is not good. We should have a solemn commemoration for the OWS movement every September 17th- and move on.
From The Labor History Archives- The Oakland General Strike, 1946 -Today November 2, 2011 Oakland General Strike- It's The Same Damn Struggle-Let's Win For Good This Time
Click on the headline to link to a Oakland General Strike 1946 on-line article.
Markin comment:
A general strike only, as witness the latest actions in Greece (2011), poses the question of power. We have to go on from there to take it and create that new society we have all been fighting for so long. Today in Oakland we go on the offensive, praise be, and like I stated in the headline-let's win this one for good this time.
*******
As Isaac Deutscher said in his speech “On Socialist Man” (1966):
“We do not maintain that socialism is going to solve all predicaments of the human race. We are struggling in the first instance with the predicaments that are of man’s making and that man can resolve. May I remind you that Trotsky, for instance, speaks of three basic tragedies—hunger, sex and death—besetting man. Hunger is the enemy that Marxism and the modern labour movement have taken on.... Yes, socialist man will still be pursued by sex and death; but we are convinced that he will be better equipped than we are to cope even with these.”
******
Markin comment from the Fall of 2011 :
After last week’s Oakland General Strike and the closing down of the Port of Oakland I thought we were on the offensive, finally. And I was not wrong. This Ohio vote was a sweet victory to put the breaks on this “in your face” right-wing slide that we having been dealing with for a long time. While, in the final analysis, hard struggles, hard street struggles, still lie ahead we will take our victories, small or large, wherever we can. I don’t think that the bourgeoisie is ready to make reservations to some island and let us take over yet but I would think that some of the more far-sighted elements might be checking their frequent-flyer miles status. Nor am I so intoxicated by Ohio that I would raise the propaganda slogan to build workers councils now. But I will raise right here, well in advance of the 2012 bourgeois electoral fist-fight, the need to fight for a workers party that fights for a workers government. And I am not wrong on that.
*************
an injury to one is an injury to all, CLASS STRUGGLE, Oakland General Strike 1946, Oakland General Strike 2011
Markin comment:
A general strike only, as witness the latest actions in Greece (2011), poses the question of power. We have to go on from there to take it and create that new society we have all been fighting for so long. Today in Oakland we go on the offensive, praise be, and like I stated in the headline-let's win this one for good this time.
*******
As Isaac Deutscher said in his speech “On Socialist Man” (1966):
“We do not maintain that socialism is going to solve all predicaments of the human race. We are struggling in the first instance with the predicaments that are of man’s making and that man can resolve. May I remind you that Trotsky, for instance, speaks of three basic tragedies—hunger, sex and death—besetting man. Hunger is the enemy that Marxism and the modern labour movement have taken on.... Yes, socialist man will still be pursued by sex and death; but we are convinced that he will be better equipped than we are to cope even with these.”
******
Markin comment from the Fall of 2011 :
After last week’s Oakland General Strike and the closing down of the Port of Oakland I thought we were on the offensive, finally. And I was not wrong. This Ohio vote was a sweet victory to put the breaks on this “in your face” right-wing slide that we having been dealing with for a long time. While, in the final analysis, hard struggles, hard street struggles, still lie ahead we will take our victories, small or large, wherever we can. I don’t think that the bourgeoisie is ready to make reservations to some island and let us take over yet but I would think that some of the more far-sighted elements might be checking their frequent-flyer miles status. Nor am I so intoxicated by Ohio that I would raise the propaganda slogan to build workers councils now. But I will raise right here, well in advance of the 2012 bourgeois electoral fist-fight, the need to fight for a workers party that fights for a workers government. And I am not wrong on that.
*************
an injury to one is an injury to all, CLASS STRUGGLE, Oakland General Strike 1946, Oakland General Strike 2011
Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By- "America, Where Are You Now...."-Stepphenwolf's "Monster" –For The Fighters Of The International Working Class
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Steppenwolf performing their classic anti-war song (and plaintive plea)Monster.
In this series, presented under the headline Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By, I will post some songs that I think will help us get through the “dog days” of the struggle for our communist future. I do not vouch for the political thrust of the songs; for the most part they are done by pacifists, social democrats, hell, even just plain old ordinary democrats. And, occasionally, a communist, although hard communist musicians have historically been scarce on the ground. Thus, here we have a regular "popular front" on the music scene. While this would not be acceptable for our political prospects, it will suffice for our purposes here.
********
Markin comment on the lyrics here:
Steppenwolf was one of the most political of the rock groups brought forth by the new musical sensibility of the counter-cultural movement in the mid to late 1960s. The narrative here in Monster reads like a capsule history of the American experience up until the 1960s. And a powerful call, a call that should resonate today, for the older generation (now us) to come and help the young fight against the monster of American imperialistic capitalism that is driving us all to the bottom. A theme song for all the Occupy movements springing up around this country.
************
Monster/Suicide/America Lyrics
Steppenwolf
Words and music by John Kay, Jerry Edmonton, Nick St. Nicholas and Larry Byrom
(Monster)
Once the religious, the hunted and weary
Chasing the promise of freedom and hope
Came to this country to build a new vision
Far from the reaches of kingdom and pope
Like good Christians, some would burn the witches
Later some got slaves to gather riches
But from near and far to seek America
They came by thousands to court the wild
But she just patiently smiled and bore a child
To be their spirit and guiding light
Then once the ties with the crown had been broken
Westward in saddle and wagon it went
And 'til the railroad linked ocean to ocean
Many the lives which had come to an end
While we bullied, stole and bought our a homeland
We began the slaughter of the red man
But still from near and far to seek America
They came by thousands to court the wild
And she just patiently smiled and bore a child
To be their spirit and guiding light
The blue and grey they stomped it
They kicked it just like a dog
And when the war over
They stuffed it just like a hog
And though the past has it's share of injustice
Kind was the spirit in many a way
But it's protectors and friends have been sleeping
Now it's a monster and will not obey
(Suicide)
The spirit was freedom and justice
And it's keepers seem "friendly" and kind
It's leaders were supposed to serve the country
But now they were paying no mind
'Cause the people "got" fat and "grew" lazy
now their vote "is like a" meaningless "Tune"
"You know they talk about law "about" order
But it's all just an echo of what they've been told
Yeah, there's a monster on the loose
It's got our heads into a noose
And it just sits there watchin'
Our cities have turned into jungles
And corruption is stranglin' the land
The police force is watching the people
And the people just can't understand
We don't know how to mind our own business
'Cause the whole worlds got to be just like us
Now we are fighting a war over there
No matter who's the winner
We can't pay the cost
'Cause there's a monster on the loose
It's got our heads into a noose
And it just sits there watching
(America)
America where are you now?
Don't you care about your sons and daughters?
Don't you know we need you now
We can't fight alone against the monster
© Copyright MCA Music (BMI)
All rights for the USA controlled and administered by
MCA Corporation of America, INC
In this series, presented under the headline Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By, I will post some songs that I think will help us get through the “dog days” of the struggle for our communist future. I do not vouch for the political thrust of the songs; for the most part they are done by pacifists, social democrats, hell, even just plain old ordinary democrats. And, occasionally, a communist, although hard communist musicians have historically been scarce on the ground. Thus, here we have a regular "popular front" on the music scene. While this would not be acceptable for our political prospects, it will suffice for our purposes here.
********
Markin comment on the lyrics here:
Steppenwolf was one of the most political of the rock groups brought forth by the new musical sensibility of the counter-cultural movement in the mid to late 1960s. The narrative here in Monster reads like a capsule history of the American experience up until the 1960s. And a powerful call, a call that should resonate today, for the older generation (now us) to come and help the young fight against the monster of American imperialistic capitalism that is driving us all to the bottom. A theme song for all the Occupy movements springing up around this country.
************
Monster/Suicide/America Lyrics
Steppenwolf
Words and music by John Kay, Jerry Edmonton, Nick St. Nicholas and Larry Byrom
(Monster)
Once the religious, the hunted and weary
Chasing the promise of freedom and hope
Came to this country to build a new vision
Far from the reaches of kingdom and pope
Like good Christians, some would burn the witches
Later some got slaves to gather riches
But from near and far to seek America
They came by thousands to court the wild
But she just patiently smiled and bore a child
To be their spirit and guiding light
Then once the ties with the crown had been broken
Westward in saddle and wagon it went
And 'til the railroad linked ocean to ocean
Many the lives which had come to an end
While we bullied, stole and bought our a homeland
We began the slaughter of the red man
But still from near and far to seek America
They came by thousands to court the wild
And she just patiently smiled and bore a child
To be their spirit and guiding light
The blue and grey they stomped it
They kicked it just like a dog
And when the war over
They stuffed it just like a hog
And though the past has it's share of injustice
Kind was the spirit in many a way
But it's protectors and friends have been sleeping
Now it's a monster and will not obey
(Suicide)
The spirit was freedom and justice
And it's keepers seem "friendly" and kind
It's leaders were supposed to serve the country
But now they were paying no mind
'Cause the people "got" fat and "grew" lazy
now their vote "is like a" meaningless "Tune"
"You know they talk about law "about" order
But it's all just an echo of what they've been told
Yeah, there's a monster on the loose
It's got our heads into a noose
And it just sits there watchin'
Our cities have turned into jungles
And corruption is stranglin' the land
The police force is watching the people
And the people just can't understand
We don't know how to mind our own business
'Cause the whole worlds got to be just like us
Now we are fighting a war over there
No matter who's the winner
We can't pay the cost
'Cause there's a monster on the loose
It's got our heads into a noose
And it just sits there watching
(America)
America where are you now?
Don't you care about your sons and daughters?
Don't you know we need you now
We can't fight alone against the monster
© Copyright MCA Music (BMI)
All rights for the USA controlled and administered by
MCA Corporation of America, INC
Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By-In Honor Of The Frontline Fighters Of The International Working Class Today-The International Working Class Anthem “The Internationale”
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of a performance of the classic international working class song of struggle, The Internationale.
Markin comment:
In this series, presented under the headline Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By, I will post some songs that I think will help us get through the “dog days” of the struggle for our communist future. I do not vouch for the political thrust of the songs; for the most part they are done by pacifists, social democrats, hell, even just plain old ordinary democrats. And, occasionally, a communist, although hard communist musicians have historically been scarce on the ground. Thus, here we have a regular "popular front" on the music scene. While this would not be acceptable for our political prospects, it will suffice for our purposes here.
*****
As Isaac Deutscher said in his speech “On Socialist Man” (1966):
“We do not maintain that socialism is going to solve all predicaments of the human race. We are struggling in the first instance with the predicaments that are of man’s making and that man can resolve. May I remind you that Trotsky, for instance, speaks of three basic tragedies—hunger, sex and death—besetting man. Hunger is the enemy that Marxism and the modern labour movement have taken on.... Yes, socialist man will still be pursued by sex and death; but we are convinced that he will be better equipped than we are to cope even with these.”
***********
The Internationale [variant words in square brackets]
Arise ye workers [starvelings] from your slumbers
Arise ye prisoners of want
For reason in revolt now thunders
And at last ends the age of cant.
Away with all your superstitions
Servile masses arise, arise
We'll change henceforth [forthwith] the old tradition [conditions]
And spurn the dust to win the prize.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
No more deluded by reaction
On tyrants only we'll make war
The soldiers too will take strike action
They'll break ranks and fight no more
And if those cannibals keep trying
To sacrifice us to their pride
They soon shall hear the bullets flying
We'll shoot the generals on our own side.
No saviour from on high delivers
No faith have we in prince or peer
Our own right hand the chains must shiver
Chains of hatred, greed and fear
E'er the thieves will out with their booty [give up their booty]
And give to all a happier lot.
Each [those] at the forge must do their duty
And we'll strike while the iron is hot.
________________________________________
L'Internationale
Debout les damnés de la terre
Debout les forçats de la faim
La raison tonne en son cratère
C'est l'éruption de la fin
Du passe faisons table rase
Foules, esclaves, debout, debout
Le monde va changer de base
Nous ne sommes rien, soyons tout
C'est la lutte finale
Groupons-nous, et demain (bis)
L'Internationale
Sera le genre humain
Il n'est pas de sauveurs suprêmes
Ni Dieu, ni César, ni tribun
Producteurs, sauvons-nous nous-mêmes
Décrétons le salut commun
Pour que le voleur rende gorge
Pour tirer l'esprit du cachot
Soufflons nous-mêmes notre forge
Battons le fer quand il est chaud
L'état comprime et la loi triche
L'impôt saigne le malheureux
Nul devoir ne s'impose au riche
Le droit du pauvre est un mot creux
C'est assez, languir en tutelle
L'égalité veut d'autres lois
Pas de droits sans devoirs dit-elle
Egaux, pas de devoirs sans droits
Hideux dans leur apothéose
Les rois de la mine et du rail
Ont-ils jamais fait autre chose
Que dévaliser le travail
Dans les coffres-forts de la bande
Ce qu'il a crée s'est fondu
En décrétant qu'on le lui rende
Le peuple ne veut que son dû.
Les rois nous saoulaient de fumées
Markin comment:
In this series, presented under the headline Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By, I will post some songs that I think will help us get through the “dog days” of the struggle for our communist future. I do not vouch for the political thrust of the songs; for the most part they are done by pacifists, social democrats, hell, even just plain old ordinary democrats. And, occasionally, a communist, although hard communist musicians have historically been scarce on the ground. Thus, here we have a regular "popular front" on the music scene. While this would not be acceptable for our political prospects, it will suffice for our purposes here.
*****
As Isaac Deutscher said in his speech “On Socialist Man” (1966):
“We do not maintain that socialism is going to solve all predicaments of the human race. We are struggling in the first instance with the predicaments that are of man’s making and that man can resolve. May I remind you that Trotsky, for instance, speaks of three basic tragedies—hunger, sex and death—besetting man. Hunger is the enemy that Marxism and the modern labour movement have taken on.... Yes, socialist man will still be pursued by sex and death; but we are convinced that he will be better equipped than we are to cope even with these.”
***********
The Internationale [variant words in square brackets]
Arise ye workers [starvelings] from your slumbers
Arise ye prisoners of want
For reason in revolt now thunders
And at last ends the age of cant.
Away with all your superstitions
Servile masses arise, arise
We'll change henceforth [forthwith] the old tradition [conditions]
And spurn the dust to win the prize.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
No more deluded by reaction
On tyrants only we'll make war
The soldiers too will take strike action
They'll break ranks and fight no more
And if those cannibals keep trying
To sacrifice us to their pride
They soon shall hear the bullets flying
We'll shoot the generals on our own side.
No saviour from on high delivers
No faith have we in prince or peer
Our own right hand the chains must shiver
Chains of hatred, greed and fear
E'er the thieves will out with their booty [give up their booty]
And give to all a happier lot.
Each [those] at the forge must do their duty
And we'll strike while the iron is hot.
________________________________________
L'Internationale
Debout les damnés de la terre
Debout les forçats de la faim
La raison tonne en son cratère
C'est l'éruption de la fin
Du passe faisons table rase
Foules, esclaves, debout, debout
Le monde va changer de base
Nous ne sommes rien, soyons tout
C'est la lutte finale
Groupons-nous, et demain (bis)
L'Internationale
Sera le genre humain
Il n'est pas de sauveurs suprêmes
Ni Dieu, ni César, ni tribun
Producteurs, sauvons-nous nous-mêmes
Décrétons le salut commun
Pour que le voleur rende gorge
Pour tirer l'esprit du cachot
Soufflons nous-mêmes notre forge
Battons le fer quand il est chaud
L'état comprime et la loi triche
L'impôt saigne le malheureux
Nul devoir ne s'impose au riche
Le droit du pauvre est un mot creux
C'est assez, languir en tutelle
L'égalité veut d'autres lois
Pas de droits sans devoirs dit-elle
Egaux, pas de devoirs sans droits
Hideux dans leur apothéose
Les rois de la mine et du rail
Ont-ils jamais fait autre chose
Que dévaliser le travail
Dans les coffres-forts de la bande
Ce qu'il a crée s'est fondu
En décrétant qu'on le lui rende
Le peuple ne veut que son dû.
Les rois nous saoulaient de fumées
From The #Un-Occupied Boston (#Un-Tomemonos Boston)Archives-General Assembly-An Embryo For An Alternate Government-What Happens When We Do Not Learn The Lessons Of History
Click on the headline to link to updates from the Occupy Boston website. Occupy Boston started at 6:00 PM, September 30, 2011. I will post important updates as they appear on that site.
****
An Injury To One Is An Injury To All!-Defend The Occupy Movement And All Occupiers! Drop All Charges Against All Occupy Protesters Everywhere!
********
Fight-Don’t Starve-We Created The Wealth, Let's Take It, It’s Ours! Labor And The Oppressed Must Rule!
*******
Markin comment November 7, 2011
Of course radicals and revolutionaries are as prone (I hope) to do a little old-time fun guerilla theater as anybody else. Ours is a long grim struggle so a little humor is practically mandatory in order to make it over the long haul. Last week, on Halloween, a group of perhaps two hundred Greater Boston college students (and a few old radicals intrigued by the idea) marched from the Boston Common on to the Federal Reserve Building that, conveniently (and not coincidentally), is just across from the Occupy Boston encampment.
Many of the students, showing that spark students are known for before they have to face the grind of work life, and such, in order to begin their probable life-time efforts to get out from under their student loans, wore zombie-like costumes featuring businessmen and women as their main motif. College fun, no more, no less, except of course these were politicized students and therefore as a symbol of that status naturally needed to have a zombie die-in (if that is not an oxymoron) in front of the Federal Reserve Building mentioned above.
The great lesson to be learned from this experience, especially in light of the Oakland General Strike where they were able to close the Port of Oakland for several hours, is that they, this they being the imperialists, capitalists, their apologists and hangers-on, are scared stiff anytime even the whiff of some threat to their power is in the air. As mentioned in the linked article this zombie die-in caused the powers at the Fed to lock down the building. That, my friends, means nobody can get in, and nobody can get out either. That is how close to the trip-wire the tensions of this society are. Hey, I have an idea……
****
An Injury To One Is An Injury To All!-Defend The Occupy Movement And All Occupiers! Drop All Charges Against All Occupy Protesters Everywhere!
********
Fight-Don’t Starve-We Created The Wealth, Let's Take It, It’s Ours! Labor And The Oppressed Must Rule!
*******
Markin comment November 7, 2011
Of course radicals and revolutionaries are as prone (I hope) to do a little old-time fun guerilla theater as anybody else. Ours is a long grim struggle so a little humor is practically mandatory in order to make it over the long haul. Last week, on Halloween, a group of perhaps two hundred Greater Boston college students (and a few old radicals intrigued by the idea) marched from the Boston Common on to the Federal Reserve Building that, conveniently (and not coincidentally), is just across from the Occupy Boston encampment.
Many of the students, showing that spark students are known for before they have to face the grind of work life, and such, in order to begin their probable life-time efforts to get out from under their student loans, wore zombie-like costumes featuring businessmen and women as their main motif. College fun, no more, no less, except of course these were politicized students and therefore as a symbol of that status naturally needed to have a zombie die-in (if that is not an oxymoron) in front of the Federal Reserve Building mentioned above.
The great lesson to be learned from this experience, especially in light of the Oakland General Strike where they were able to close the Port of Oakland for several hours, is that they, this they being the imperialists, capitalists, their apologists and hangers-on, are scared stiff anytime even the whiff of some threat to their power is in the air. As mentioned in the linked article this zombie die-in caused the powers at the Fed to lock down the building. That, my friends, means nobody can get in, and nobody can get out either. That is how close to the trip-wire the tensions of this society are. Hey, I have an idea……
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