Friday, October 04, 2013

***Songs To While The Time By- The Roots Is The Toots-Bukka White's Panama Limited 



A YouTube clip to give some flavor to this subject.

Over the past several years I have been running an occasional series in this space of songs, mainly political protest songs, you know The Internationale, Union Maid, Which Side Are You On, Viva La Quince Brigada, Universal Soldier, and such entitled Songs To While The Class Struggle By. This series which could include some protest songs as well is centered on roots music as it has come down the ages and formed the core of the American songbook. You will find the odd, the eccentric, the forebears of later musical trends, and the just plain amusing here. Listen up-Peter Paul Markin

Heroic Vietnamese Liberation Army General Giap Passes- Long Live The Struggle Against Imperialism- All Honor To General Giap's Memory



From The American Left History blog April 2012 

Book Review

Decent Interval: An Insider’s Account Of Saigon’s Indecent End Told By The CIA’s Chief Strategy Analyst In Vietnam, Frank Snepp, Random House, New York, 1977

Sometimes a picture is in fact better than one thousand words. In this case the famous, or infamous depending on one’s view, photograph of the last American “refugees” being evacuated from the American Embassy in Saigon (now, mercifully, Ho Chi Minh City) tells more about that episode of American imperial hubris that most books. Still, as is the case with this little gem of a book, ex- CIA man Frank Snepp’s insider account of that fall from the American side, it is nice to have some serious analytical companionship to that photo. Moreover, a book that gives numerous details about what happened to who in those last days in a little over five hundred pages and who the good guys and bad guys really were. Especially now, as two or three later generations only see Vietnam through the hoary eyes of old veterans (both military and radical anti-war) from that period like me to tell the tale.

Naturally, a longtime CIA man who in a fit of his own hubris decides, in effect, to blow the whistle on the American fiasco, has got his own axes to grind, and his own agenda for doing so. Bearing that in mind this is a fascinating look at that last period of American involvement in Vietnam from just after the 1973 cease-fire went into place until that last day of April in 1975 when the red flag flew over Saigon after a thirty plus year struggle for national liberation. For most Americans the period after the withdrawal of the last large contingents of U.S. troops from combat in 1972 kind of put paid to that failed experiment in “nation-building”-American-style.

For the rest of us who wished to see the national liberation struggle victorious we only had a slight glimmer that sometime was afoot until fairly late- say the beginning of 1975, although the rumor mill was running earlier. So Mr. Snepp’s book is invaluable to fill in the blanks for what the U.S., the South Vietnamese and the North Vietnamese were doing, or not doing.

Snepp’s lively account, naturally, centers on the American experience and within that experience the conduct of the last ambassador to Saigon, Graham Martin. Snepp spares no words to go after Martin’s perfidious and maniacal role, especially in the very, very last days when the North Vietnamese were sweeping almost unopposed into Saigon. But there is more, failures of intelligence, some expected, others just plain wrong, some missteps about intentions, some grand-standing and some pure-grade anti-communist that fueled much of the scene.

And, of course, no story of American military involvement anyplace is complete without plenty of material about, well the money. From Thieu’s military needs (and those of his extensive entourage) to the American military (and their insatiable need for military hardware), to various American administrations and their goals just follow the money trail and you won’t be far off the scent. And then that famous, or infamous, photograph of that helicopter exit from the roof of the American Embassy in just a nick of time makes much more sense. Nice work, Frank Snepp. The whistleblower’s art is not appreciated but always needed. Just ask Private Bradley Manning.
Heroic Vietnamese Liberation Army General Giap Passes- Long Live The Struggle Against Imperialism- All Honor To General Giap's Memory


History Learning Site

  • The Vietnam War >
  • Vo Nguyen Giap
  • Vo Nguyen Giap

    General Vo Nguyen Giap was the NLF’s most senior military commander in the Vietnam War. Giap proved to be a worthy opponent to the Americans. As a commander, Giap was willing to mix his tactics between classic guerrilla warfare and conventional attacks as was seen in the 1968 Tet Offensive.
    Giap was born in 1912. He had a relatively comfortable upbringing and aged 14, Giap joined the Tan Viet Cach Mang Dang group – a revolutionary styled youth group. After studying at a lycée (which he claimed he was expelled from for organising student strikes), Giap joined the University of Hanoi. Here he gained a doctorate in economics but taught History at Thang Long School on leaving the university.
    Giap joined the Communist Party in 1931 and took part in demonstrations against French colonial rule in Vietnam. He was arrested for his activities in 1932 and served 18 months of a two-year prison sentence. In 1939 France outlawed communism in Vietnam and Giap escaped to China. Here he joined up with Ho Chi Minh, the future leader of North Vietnam. While he was in China, his sister, who shared his anti-French sentiments, was arrested and then executed in Vietnam. His wife was also sent to prison where she died. There can be little doubt that both these events had a marked impact on Giap who almost certainly decided as a result of these two personal bereavements to dedicate his life to removing France from Vietnam.
    From 1942 to 1945 Giap helped to organise resistance against the Japanese Army that had invaded China and Vietnam. It was during this time that Giap perfected the guerrilla tactics that Mao Zedong was to use so effectively against the Japanese.
    The surrender of Japan in August 1945 created a power vacuum in Vietnam. The French had lost control of the area as a result of Japanese expansion. Ho Chi Minh declared a provisional government for Vietnam, which he would lead and in September 1945 Ho announced the establishment of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam in which Giap was Minister of the Interior. However, unknown to Ho the powers that dominated World War Two’s peace settlements had decided on a different course of action. They decided that the north of Vietnam would be under the control of Nationalist China while the British would control the south. This decision did not take into account the desire of the French to re-establish their own control in the region. In 1946, both China and Britain removed their troops from Vietnam and France re-established control over their old colony.
    The French refused to recognise Ho’s government and conflict quickly followed between the French and troops led by Giap. Initially Giap experienced many problems, as the French forces were better equipped. However, the French army was thinly spread and this allowed Giap the opportunity rebuild his forces. Once the Communists had established control in China, Giap found that his forces received better support from Mao’s China. The proximity of China also gave Giap the opportunity of a safe base for injured troops to receive medical aid away from the fighting in Vietnam. Experienced Chinese Communist guerrilla experts also assisted Giap.
    Giap quickly gained a reputation as being a master of guerrilla warfare. However, against the French he also showed that he had mastered conventional tactics. At Dien Bien Phu, the French commander, Navarre, hoped to draw out Giap’s forces for a mass battle based on traditional battle plans. Giap outmanoeuvred Navarre and surrounded the French forces at Dien Bien Phu. Giap had 70,000 men at his disposal – five times the number of French troops there. He also had 105mm artillery and anti-aircraft guns from the Chinese and he used these to ensure that the French could not use airdrops to supply the men at Dien Bien Phu. When he was satisfied that the French were sufficiently weakened, Giap ordered a full-scale attack (March 13th 1954). On May 7th the French surrendered. 11,000 men were taken prisoner and 7,000 men had been killed or wounded. On May 8th, the French announced that they were pulling out of Vietnam. It was a major victory for Giap and sealed his fame as a military commander.
    Throughout the war with America in Vietnam, Giap remained commander-in-chief of North Vietnamese forces. The impact of the NLF’s guerrilla warfare tactics has been well documented. Giap ensured that the NLF befriended villagers in the South and worked for them. However, there is evidence that when villages in the South did not welcome the NLF, there was harsh retribution meted out by the NLF. It would be easy to trade off the image of Giap and his troops being hailed as liberators from colonial rule throughout South Vietnam – but this was not the case.
    Giap also used conventional tactics as the Tet Offensive of 1968 demonstrated.
    After the introduction of Vietnamisation by Richard Nixon, there was a reduction in the number of US military personnel in Vietnam. This left the army of South Vietnam vulnerable to the NLF and it surprised few when NLF troops entered Saigon on April 30th, 1975. A Socialist Republic of Vietnam was declared and Giap was named Deputy Premier and Minister of Defence. In 1980 Giap lost his position as Minister of Defence and in 1982, having lost his post as Deputy Premier, he retired.
    Some, such as Stanley Karnow, view Giap as a major military commander in the mould of Wellington and MacArthur. General Westmoreland did not share this view. He claimed that Giap was successful because he had a complete disregard for human life and that the NLF suffered huge casualties as a result of his command. Westmoreland claimed that Giap was a formidable opponent but not a military genius.
      
    From The Marxist Archives- In Honor Of The 64th Anniversary Year Of The Chinese Revolution of 1949-
    In Honor of the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution For New October Revolutions!

    Markin comment (repost from 2012):

    On a day when we are honoring the 63rd anniversary of the Chinese revolution of 1949 the article posted in this entry and the comment below take on added meaning. In the old days, in the days when I had broken from many of my previously held left social-democratic political views and had begun to embrace Marxism with a distinct tilt toward Trotskyism, I ran into an old revolutionary in Boston who had been deeply involved (although I did not learn the extend of that involvement until later) in the pre-World War II socialist struggles in Eastern Europe. The details of that involvement will not detain us here now but the import of what he had to impart to me about the defense of revolutionary gains has stuck with me until this day. And, moreover, is germane to the subject of this article from the pen of Leon Trotsky -the defense of the Chinese revolution and the later gains of that third revolution (1949) however currently attenuated.

    This old comrade, by the circumstances of his life, had escaped that pre-war scene in fascist-wracked Europe and found himself toward the end of the 1930s in New York working with the Trotskyist Socialist Workers Party in the period when that organization was going through intense turmoil over the question of defense of the Soviet Union. In the history of American (and international) Trotskyism this is the famous Max Shachtman-James Burnham led opposition that declared, under one theory or another, that the previously defendable Soviet Union had changed dramatically enough in the course of a few months to be no longer worth defending by revolutionaries.

    What struck him from the start about this dispute was the cavalier attitude of the anti-Soviet opposition, especially among the wet-behind-the-ears youth, on the question of that defense and consequently about the role that workers states, healthy, deformed or degenerated, as we use the terms of art in our movement, as part of the greater revolutionary strategy. Needless to say most of those who abandoned defense of the Soviet Union when there was even a smidgeon of a reason to defend it left politics and peddled their wares in academia or business. Or if they remained in politics lovingly embraced the virtues of world imperialism.

    That said, the current question of defense of the Chinese Revolution hinges on those same premises that animated that old Socialist Workers Party dispute. And strangely enough (or maybe not so strangely) on the question of whether China is now irrevocably on the capitalist road, or is capitalist already (despite some very un-capitalistic economic developments over the past few years), I find that many of those who oppose that position have that same cavalier attitude the old comrade warned me against back when I was first starting out. There may come a time when we, as we had to with the Soviet Union and other workers states, say that China is no longer a workers state. But today is not that day. In the meantime study the issue, read the posted article, and more importantly, defend the gains of the Chinese Revolution.
    ***********

    Workers Vanguard No. 968
    5 November 2010
    TROTSKY
    LENIN
    In Honor of the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution
    For New October Revolutions!
    (From the Archives of Marxism)
    November 7 (October 25 by the calendar used in Russia at the time) marks the 93rd anniversary of the Russian Revolution. Led by the Bolshevik Party of V.I. Lenin and Leon Trotsky, the workers’ seizure of power in Russia gave flesh and blood reality to the Marxist understanding of the dictatorship of the proletariat. Despite the subsequent Stalinist degeneration of the Soviet workers state, culminating in its counterrevolutionary destruction in 1991-92, the October Revolution was and is the international proletariat’s greatest victory; its final undoing, a world-historic defeat. The International Communist League (Fourth Internationalist) fought to the bitter end in defense of the Soviet Union and the bureaucratically deformed workers states of East Europe, while calling for workers political revolutions to oust the parasitic nationalist Stalinist bureaucracies that ruled these states. This is the same program we uphold today for the remaining workers states of China, North Korea, Vietnam and Cuba.
    Having been expelled from the USSR in 1929 by Stalin, Trotsky spent the remainder of his life in exile. In November 1932, he gave a speech to a Danish social-democratic student group in Copenhagen. He outlined the political conditions and the social forces that drove the Russian Revolution, stressing the decisive role of the Bolshevik Party. Illuminating the worldwide impact of the Russian Revolution and its place in history, Trotsky underlined the necessity of sweeping away the decaying capitalist order and replacing it with a scientifically planned international socialist economy that will lay the material basis for human freedom.
    The ICL fights to forge workers parties modeled on Lenin and Trotsky’s Bolsheviks to lead the struggle for new October Revolutions around the globe.
    * * *
    Revolution means a change of the social order. It transfers the power from the hands of a class which has exhausted itself into those of another class, which is on the rise....
    Without the armed insurrection of November 7, 1917, the Soviet state would not be in existence. But the insurrection itself did not drop from Heaven. A series of historical prerequisites was necessary for the October revolution.
    1. The rotting away of the old ruling classes—the nobility, the monarchy, the bureaucracy.
    2. The political weakness of the bourgeoisie, which had no roots in the masses of the people.
    3. The revolutionary character of the peasant question.
    4. The revolutionary character of the problem of the oppressed nations.
    5. The significant social weight of the proletariat.
    To these organic pre-conditions we must add certain conjunctural conditions of the highest importance:
    6. The Revolution of 1905 was the great school, or in Lenin’s words, the “dress rehearsal” of the Revolution of 1917. The Soviets, as the irreplaceable organizational form of the proletarian united front in the revolution, were created for the first time in the year 1905.
    7. The imperialist war sharpened all the contradictions, tore the backward masses out of their immobility and thereby prepared the grandiose scale of the catastrophe.
    But all these conditions, which fully sufficed for the outbreak of the Revolution, were insufficient to assure the victory of the proletariat in the Revolution. For this victory one condition more was needed:
    8. The Bolshevik Party....
    In the year 1883 there arose among the emigres the first Marxist group. In the year 1898, at a secret meeting, the foundation of the Russian Social-Democratic Workers’ Party was proclaimed (we all called ourselves Social-Democrats in those days). In the year 1903 occurred the split between Bolsheviks and Mensheviks. In the year 1912 the Bolshevist fraction finally became an independent Party.
    It learned to recognize the class mechanics of society in struggle, in the grandiose events of twelve years (1905-1917). It educated cadres equally capable of initiative and of subordination. The discipline of its revolutionary action was based on the unity of its doctrine, on the tradition of common struggles and on confidence in its tested leadership.
    Thus stood the Party in the year 1917. Despised by the official “public opinion” and the paper thunder of the intelligentsia press, it adapted itself to the movement of the masses. Firmly it kept in hand the control of factories and regiments. More and more the peasant masses turned toward it. If we understand by “nation,” not the privileged heads, but the majority of the people, that is, the workers and peasants, then Bolshevism became in the course of the year 1917 a truly national Russian Party.
    In September 1917, Lenin, who was compelled to keep in hiding, gave the signal, “The crisis is ripe, the hour of the insurrection has approached.” He was right. The ruling classes had landed in a blind alley before the problems of the war, the land and national liberation. The bourgeoisie finally lost its head. The democratic parties, the Mensheviks and social-revolutionaries, wasted the remains of the confidence of the masses in them by their support of the imperialist war, by their policy of ineffectual compromise and concession to the bourgeois and feudal property-owners. The awakened army no longer wanted to fight for the alien aims of imperialism. Disregarding democratic advice, the peasantry smoked the landowners out of their estates. The oppressed nationalities at the periphery rose up against the bureaucracy of Petrograd. In the most important workers’ and soldiers’ Soviets the Bolsheviki were dominant. The workers and soldiers demanded action. The ulcer was ripe. It needed a cut of the lancet.
    Only under these social and political conditions was the insurrection possible. And thus it also became inevitable. But there is no playing around with the insurrection. Woe to the surgeon who is careless in the use of the lancet! Insurrection is an art. It has its laws and its rules.
    The Party carried through the October insurrection with cold calculation and with flaming determination. Thanks to this, it conquered almost without victims. Through the victorious Soviets the Bolsheviki placed themselves at the head of a country which occupies one sixth of the surface of the globe....
    Let us now in closing attempt to ascertain the place of the October Revolution, not only in the history of Russia but in the history of the world. During the year 1917, in a period of eight months, two historical curves intersect. The February upheaval—that belated echo of the great struggles which had been carried out in past centuries on the territories of Holland, England, France, almost all of Continental Europe—takes its place in the series of bourgeois revolutions. The October Revolution proclaims and opens the domination of the proletariat. It was world capitalism that suffered its first great defeat on the territory of Russia. The chain broke at its weakest link. But it was the chain that broke, and not only the link.
    Capitalism has outlived itself as a world system. It has ceased to fulfill its essential mission, the increase of human power and human wealth. Humanity cannot stand still at the level which it has reached. Only a powerful increase in productive force and a sound, planned, that is, Socialist organization of production and distribution can assure humanity—all humanity—of a decent standard of life and at the same time give it the precious feeling of freedom with respect to its own economy. Freedom in two senses—first of all, man will no longer be compelled to devote the greater part of his life to physical labor. Second, he will no longer be dependent on the laws of the market, that is, on the blind and dark forces which have grown up behind his back. He will build up his economy freely, that is, according to a plan, with compass in hand. This time it is a question of subjecting the anatomy of society to the X-ray through and through, of disclosing all its secrets and subjecting all its functions to the reason and the will of collective humanity. In this sense, Socialism must become a new step in the historical advance of mankind. Before our ancestor, who first armed himself with a stone axe, the whole of nature represented a conspiracy of secret and hostile forces. Since then, the natural sciences, hand in hand with practical technology, have illuminated nature down to its most secret depths. By means of electrical energy, the physicist passes judgment on the nucleus of the atom. The hour is not far when science will easily solve the task of the alchemists, and turn manure into gold and gold into manure. Where the demons and furies of nature once raged, now rules ever more courageously the industrial will of man.
    But while he wrestled victoriously with nature, man built up his relations to other men blindly, almost like the bee or the ant. Belatedly and most undecidedly he approached the problems of human society. He began with religion, and passed on to politics. The Reformation represented the first victory of bourgeois individualism and rationalism in a domain which had been ruled by dead tradition. From the church, critical thought went on to the state. Born in the struggle with absolutism and the medieval estates, the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people and of the rights of man and the citizen grew stronger. Thus arose the system of parliamentarism. Critical thought penetrated into the domain of government administration. The political rationalism of democracy was the highest achievement of the revolutionary bourgeoisie.
    But between nature and the state stands economic life. Technology liberated man from the tyranny of the old elements—earth, water, fire and air—only to subject him to its own tyranny. Man ceased to be a slave to nature, to become a slave to the machine, and, still worse, a slave to supply and demand. The present world crisis testifies in especially tragic fashion how man, who dives to the bottom of the ocean, who rises up to the stratosphere, who converses on invisible waves with the Antipodes, how this proud and daring ruler of nature remains a slave to the blind forces of his own economy. The historical task of our epoch consists in replacing the uncontrolled play of the market by reasonable planning, in disciplining the forces of production, compelling them to work together in harmony and obediently serve the needs of mankind. Only on this new social basis will man be able to stretch his weary limbs and—every man and every woman, not only a selected few—become a full citizen in the realm of thought.
    —“Leon Trotsky Defends the October Revolution” (Militant, 21 January 1933)
    Workers Vanguard No. 968
    WV 968
    5 November 2010
    ·
    ·
    ·
    ·
    ·
    In Honor of the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution
    For New October Revolutions!
    (From the Archives of Marxism)
    ·
    ·

    Thursday, October 03, 2013

    NEW Petition to Free Lynne Stewart: Support Compassionate Release
    • Petitioning Charles E. Samuels, Jr.
    This petition will be delivered to:
    Director, Federal Bureau of Prisons
    Charles E. Samuels, Jr.
    Attorney General, United States
    Eric H. Holder, Jr.

    NEW Petition to Free Lynne Stewart: Support Compassionate Release

      1. Ralph Poynter
      2. Petition by
        Brooklyn, NY, United States

    Twelve Years Is Enough- U.S. Out Of Afghanistan Now!



    The U.S. War on Afghanistan is now 12 years old. Longer than the official American war on Vietnam; it’s gone on half a generation, or more.

    On Sunday October 6, 2001 George Bush announced the attack on Afghanistan. Some perceived the action as revenge for 9/11, though that was just a pretext for an action Rumsfeld, Cheney and other neo-cons had planned for years. On the morning on 9/11,
    Rumsfeld said it was time to “go massive.” “Sweep it all up. Things related and not.”

    US destruction went massive, leaving one of the poorest countries in the world, already torn up by an occupation by the Soviet Union, with a brutal civil war between war lords, still impoverished, threatened by continued U.S. domination, Islamic fundamentalism, and the same warlords having been enriched by U.S. billions.

    Gardez
    Join World Can't Wait conference call discussion Thursday October 3:

    People born after 1990 don’t really remember a time when there wasn’t a US war on Afghanistan. Many people think the war is “over” or “ending” thanks to Obama.

    Will it be over in 2014? What does “over” mean, and have any of the promises the US made come true for the people of Afghanistan?

    We’ll talk reality, history, share what people think, and what plans we are making to stop this crime of our government.
    Register for dial-in info.

    We’ve culled the comprehensive section on worldcantwait.net about Afghanistan. These articles paint a picture that no NATO or U.S. general can successfully cover over with words about “winning hearts and minds.”

    Kathy Kelly,
    Afghanistan: The Ghost and the Machine

    Glenn Greenwald,
    Another Afghan Family Extinguished by a NATO Airstrike

    Kevin Gosztola,
    Reflecting on the Afghanistan War Logs Released by WikiLeaks

    Larry Everest,
    Made in America: The Gardez Massacre

    Gareth Porter,
    U.S. Night Raids Killed Over 1,500 Afghan Civilians in Ten Months

    Dennis Loo,
    Afghanistan: When is “Withdrawal” an “Enduring Presence”?

    WikiLeaks’ 7th Birthday Vigil this Friday

    What: Join us for a vigil to mark WikiLeaks’ 7th Birthday
    When: Friday, October 4th, starting at 5pm
    Where: British Consulate General at One Broadway Cambridge MA 02142 in Kendall Sq. near the Kendall Sq. Red-line MBTA stop. It is the Badger Building in the map below at the corner of Broadway and Third Street.
    What to bring: friends and family who believe in justice and a true freedom of speech, posters, your voice
    4th October 2013 marks the 7th anniversary of the launch of WikiLeaks. It will also be 472 days since Julian Assange, the organization’s founder has been trapped inside the Ecuadorean embassy in London. And it will be 44 days since Chelsea (Bradley) Manning was sentenced to 35 years in prison – expected to be first up for parole in 7 years. It will be 137 days since Edward Snowden fled from the US, and over a full year that #BarretBrown has been in jail awaiting trial for posting a LINK.
    Please share this page or Facebook event and invite your friends!

    View Mass Pirates Places of Interest in a larger map





    Public Meeting to Discuss Next Steps in the "Fight for 15 and a Union"
    Saturday, October 5th at 4pm
    "e5" in Downtown Boston
    9 Hamilton Place, Suite 2a
    Near the Park St. T Stop and the Orpheum Theater

    After the August 29th strike of fast food workers rocked over 60 cities, this inspiring movement is at a crossroads. Seamus Whelan in Boston and Kshama Sawant in Seattle have made this struggle and the bold demands for "$15 an hour and a union" the centerpiece of their campaigns for City Council.
    Discuss potential plans for rallies, petitioning, outreach to low-wage workers and upcoming ballot questions.
    The Stopwatching.us Rally Against Mass Surveillance includes a march and a rally. We will rally and march on Sat., Oct. 26 between 12 noon and 3 p.m. Marchers will gather at Union Station (in Columbus Circle) and will proceed to Union Square (on 3rd Street and Madison Dr. NW in front of the Capitol Reflecting Pool) where the rally will take place.
    Why are we doing this? Right now, the NSA is spying on everyone's personal communications, and it’s operating without any meaningful oversight. Since the Snowden leaks started, more than 570,000 people from all walks of life have signed the StopWatching.Us petition telling the U.S. Congress that we want it to the NSA accountable and to reform the laws that got us here.
    On October 26th, the 12th anniversary of the signing of the U.S. Patriot Act, we're taking the next step and holding the largest rally yet against NSA surveillance. We’ll be handing the half-million petitions to members of Congress to remind them that they work for us — and we won’t tolerate mass surveillance any longer. We expect thousands of people from across the political spectrum will attend. If you would be available on Friday October 25 or Monday October 28 to lobby your Members of Congress, please sign up for the lobby day events here.
    We call on Congress to immediately and publicly:
    1. Enact reform this Congress to Section 215 of the USA PATRIOT Act, the state secrets privilege, and the FISA Amendments Act to make clear that blanket surveillance of the Internet activity and phone records of any person residing in the U.S. is prohibited by law and that violations can be reviewed in adversarial proceedings before a public court;
    2. Create a special committee to investigate, report, and reveal to the public the extent of this domestic spying. This committee should create specific recommendations for legal and regulatory reform to end unconstitutional surveillance;
    3. Hold accountable those public officials who are found to be responsible for this unconstitutional surveillance.
    The local organizers for this rally are Alex Marthews of Digital Fourth and Evan Greer of Fight for the Future. Other members of the coalition include EFF, the Free Press Foundation, FreedomWorks, the ACLU, CREDO Mobile, DailyKos, Greenpeace, the Center for Democracy and Technology, the Competitive Enterprise Institute, Restore the Fourth, Demand Progress, Mozilla, Public Knowledge, Access, the Bill of Rights Defense Committee and the Libertarian Party. Go here to see the current list.
    For information about getting involved in the lobby day, sign up here.
    Alex Marthews, President
    Digital Fourth
    28 Temple Street, Belmont, MA 02478
    (781) 258-2936
    @rebelcinder
    www.warrantless.org


    --
    ***We Don’t Want Your Ism-Skism Thing- Dreadlocks Delight- “One Love: The Very Best of Bob Marley And The Wailers”- A CD Review


    YouTube film clip of Bob Marley and the Wailer performing their classic up-from-under song, Get Up, Stand Up.

    One Love: The Very Best of Bob Marley And The Wailers, Bob Marley And The Wailers, UTV Records, 2001
    Admit it, back in the late seventies and early eighties we all had our reggae minute, at least a minute anyway. And the center of that minute, almost of necessity, had to be a run-in with the world of Bob Marley and the Wailers, probably I Shot The Sheriff.Some of us stuck with that music and moved on to its step-child be-bop, hip-hop when that moved on the scene. Others like me just took it as a world music cultural moment and put the records (you know records, those black vinyl things, right?) away after a while. And that was that.

    Well not quite. Of late the Occupy movement (2011), the people risen, has done a very funny musical thing, at least funny to my ears when I heard it. They, along with the old labor song, Solidarity Forever, and, of course Brother Woody Guthrie’s This Land Is Your Land , have resurrected Bob Marley’s up-from-under fight song, Get Up, Stand Up to fortify the sisters and brothers against the American imperial monster beating down on all of us and most directly under the police baton and tear gas canister. And that seems, somehow, eminently right. More germane here it has gotten me to dust off those old records and give Brother Marley another hear. And you should too if you have been remiss of late with such great songs as (aside from those mentioned already) No Woman, No Cry, Jamming, One Love/People Get Ready (yah, the old Chambers Brother tune), and Buffalo Soldier. And stand up and fight too.
    ***When The Boyos Cried Out Against The Rough-Edged Night– “Blackout”- The Dropkick Murphys- A CD (DVD) Review



    A YouTube film clip of the Dropkick Murphys performing .
    CD (DVD) Review

    Blackout, CD with bonus DVD with live performances, Dropkick Murphys, Hellcat Records, 2003

    Guys (guys being used here colloquially for men and women) with a sense of Easter 1916, James Connolly, Irish Citizens Army, General Post Office, fight the damn English 800 hundred year oppressors history. Rock and roll guys, hard rock and rock guys, who throw back to classic 1960s days (ouch!, ouch for me that is). Boston mean streets guys. Irish guys, working- class guys, Irish working- class guys, not always the same thing as elsewhere and perhaps a bit more clannish what with that Aer Lingus making Dublin a suburban stop from Logan. What is there not to like for a Irish-immersed working- class guy who lived just a stone’s from mother home Southie.

    And the answer is nothing, including a nice little bonus DVD to see the boyos (also colloquially used) rage against the hard-edged world night. And do it on their own terms from up-tempo Irish Saint Patrick’ Day “drunk as a skunk” standards like Black Velvet Band to homage working class Worker’s Song to just regular working- class angst stuff to just regular boy meets girl, heaven hell no way out stuff boy meets girl stuff, that we all face, and face gladly. Nice work, boyos. And don’t ever get complaisant, okay.
    ***To Joyell Davin In Lieu Of A Letter- With J.E.D. In Mind


    Freight train, freight train going so fast,
    Freight train, freight train going so fast,
    Please don’t say what train I’m on,
    So they won’t know where I’ve gone.

    -Chorus from ancient folk blues artist Elizabeth Cotten’s Freight Train.

    As this story unfolds, Elizabeth Cotten’ s Freight Train, in an upbeat Peter, Paul and Mary-style version complete with Bleecker Street reference, is being covered just then near the well firewood- stocked, well-stoked fireplace of the great room in a hard winter, February version, snow-covered rural New Hampshire old time religious order assembly hall by some upstart urban folkie a long way from his home and a long way from that 1960s folk revival minute that then had had even jaded aficionados from the generation of ’68 clamoring for more.

    Meanwhile, the front hall entrance adjacent to that great room where that old-time folkie and his old-time tune are being heard by a small early-bird arrival gathering crowd who never tire of the song, and who this night certainly do not tire of being close by the huge well stocked, well-stoked fireplace where the old brother, hell, let’s give him a name, Eric, Eric from Vermont, okay, is holding forth is starting to fill with more arrivals to be checked in and button-holed. The place, for the curious: the Shaker Farms Peace Pavilion (formerly just plain vanilla Shaker Farms Assembly Hall but the “trust fund babies” who bought and donated the site, ah, insisted in their, of course, anonymous way on the added signature) the scene of umpteen peace conferences, anti-war parlays, alternative world vision seminars, non-violent role-playing skits, and personal witness actions worked out. A handy hospice for worn-out ideas, ditto frustrations, and an off-hand small victory or two.

    That very last part, that desperate victory last part, is what keeps the place afloat, afloat in this oddball of a hellish anti-war year 1971 when even hardened and steeled old-time peace activists against the Vietnam War are starting to believe they will be entitled to Social Security for their efforts before this bloody war is over. Hence the urgency behind this particular great room fireplace warm, complete with booked-in urban folkie singer, umpteenth anti-war conference. But onward brothers and sisters and let us listen in to the following conversation overheard in that now crowded front hall:

    “Hi, Joyell, glad you could make it to the conference. Are you by yourself or did you bring Steve with you?” asked Jim Sweeney, one of the big honchos, one of the big organizational honchos and that is what matters these dog days when all hope appears to have been abandoned, these now fading days of the antiwar movement trying yet again to conference jump start the opposition to Nixon’s bloody escalations and stealthy tricky maneuvers.

    “Good to see you too, Jim,” answered Joyell, who said it in such a singsong way that she and Jim Sweeney, obviously, had been in some mystic time, maybe some summer of love time before everything and everybody needed twelve coats of armor, emotional armor, just to move from point A to point B, more than fellows at one of those umpteen peace things. Joyell knew, knew from some serious reflection last summer, that she had put on a few more armor coats herself and, hell, she was just a self-confessed rank and filer. Their “thing” had just faded though for lack of energy, lack of high “ism” politics on Joyell’s part unlike frenetic Jim, and for the cold, hard fact that Jim at the time wanted to devote himself totally to the “movement” and could not “commit” to a personal relationship.

    “Jesus, can’t any guy commit to anything for more than ten minutes,” Joyell thought to herself. From the weathered look on his face Jim was still in high thrall to “saving the earth” although rumor had it that Marge Goodwin, ya, that Marge Goodwin, the “mother” of organizers every since she almost single-handedly called out the national student strike in 1970, almost had her hooks into him, into him bad from all reports.

    “No, Steve and I are not together anymore since he split to “find himself” on some freight train heading west, heading west fast away from me, I think. But you don’t want to hear that story, and besides we have to push on against this damn war, Steve or no Steve and his goddamn freight smoke-trailing dreams.” What Joyell didn’t say was that she was half-glad, no quarter-glad, Steve had split since the last couple of months had been hell. A fight a day it seemed, two a day at the end.

    Reason: Steve too was not ready to “commit” to a personal relationship what with the whole world going to hell in hand-basket (his expression). Besides they all had plenty of time, a life-time to get “serious” and, forbidden words, “settle down.” Here is where the quarter-glad part comes in. Steve was getting in kind of heavy with some Weathermen-types and while that did not cause an argument a day between them it didn’t help. Joyell half expected to hear that Steve, Steve the meek pacifist, a freaking meek Catholic Worker guy just a couple years before, blew up something, or got blown up. Jesus, she thought, was I that hard to take, hard to get along with.

    “I’m sorry to hear that Joyell. Maybe when we get a break later we can talk.” Of course, and maybe for the same Steve smoke-trailing-freight-dream-escape-seeking-the-great-American be-bop night reason, or maybe a heroic end traced out since boyhood redemptions reason, Jim and Joyell never would meet later, as Jim would be tied up, well, tied up in whatever organizational thing he was honcho of these days. Their time too had irrevocably passed. And now, and from here on in, this is Joyell’s time, her story, her voice as she enters the spacious but cold, distant from the well-stoked fireplace cold, conference room to the left of the great room with its rickety elongated table weighted down with timeless banging against ten thousand flickered night dreams, scarecrow chairs that caused more than one modern arched-back to falter helplessly, and unhealthy air, air make rank from too many spent speeches, and spent dreams.
    *******
    “Who is that guy over in the corner, that green corner coach, the guy with the kind of wispy just starting to fill out brown beard, and those fierce piercing goy blue eyes, that I just passed? I’ve not seen him around before,” Joyell asked herself and then Marge Goodwin, expecting Marge the crackerjack organizer of everything from antiwar marches to save the, and you can fill in the blank, to know all the players. Moreover Marge and Joyell got along well enough for Joyell to ask such a question, “girl talk,” they called it between themselves although to the “men” this was a book sealed with seven seals since the “correct” thing was to put such girlish things back in prehistoric times, four or five years ago okay. Joyell also sensed that since Marge’s “thing” with Jim hadn’t worked out they had something in common, although nothing was ever said. Nor would it be.

    “Oh, that’s Frank Jackman, the anti-war GI who just got out of the stockade over at Fort Shaw last week and he is ready to do some work with us,” volunteered Marge. Later that evening Joyell would hear from a reliable source that Marge had gotten, or had tried to get, very familiar with the ex-army soldier resister. Marge had a thing for “heroic” guys. Heroic guys being guys like Jim, Joan Baez’s hubby, David Harris, who had refused draft induction, the Berrigan Brothers who were getting ready to do time for draft board record destruction (although she, Marge, couldn’t get that damn Catholic trick part that drove their actions) and now this Frank Jackman who had done a year, a tough soldier non-soldier year, some of it in solidarity, in the stockade for refusing go to Vietnam (and refusing to wear the military uniform at one point). Joyell also heard from another source that evening that it was no dice between Marge and Frank. This source thought it was that Marge, always getting what Marge wanted when it came to “movement men,” figured this guy would just cave in and take the ride. Not this guy, no way, not after taking on the “big boys” over at Fort Shaw. No dice, huh. That’s a point in his favor. But that was later fuel.

    “Oh, that’s why his beard is so wispy and he is wearing those silly high top polished black boots and that size too big Army jacket with those bell-bottomed jeans. He certainly has the idea of what it takes to fit in here,” Joyell figured out, figured out loud. Marge just nodded, nodded kind of dismissively that she was right. And then left to do some organization business setting up the evening’s work.

    And then suddenly, she, Joyell Davin (suitably Americanized, naturally, a couple of generations back), freshly-damaged in love’s unequal battles but apparently not ready to throw in the towel, got very quiet, very quiet like she always did when some guy caught her eye, well, more than her eye tonight, now that Steve was so much train smoke out in the cornfields somewhere. Maybe it was the New York City armor-coated brashness, hell Manhattan grow-up hard and necessary brashness required in a too many people universe, and learned from her very opinionated father, that her quietness tried to rein in at times like this so guys, guys like this Frank, wouldn’t be thrown off. But whatever it was that drove her quietness she was taking her peeks, her quiet half- peeks really, at this guy. With Steve, and a few other guys, it was mostly full steam ahead and let the devil take the hinter- post. This time her clock said take it easy, jesus, take it easy.

    And as she found herself catching herself taking more and more of those telltale peeks she noticed, noticed almost by instinct, almost by some mystical sense that he was “checking” her out, although their dueling eyes had not met. Then, after Jim had finished giving the opening address about what the conferees were trying to do, this Frank Jackman stood up quickly without introduction and started talking, in a firm voice, about the need to up the ante, to create havoc in the streets, and in the army camps. And do it now, and with some sense of urgency. But he said it all in such way that everybody in the room, all forty or fifty of them, knew, or should have known, that this was not some ragtag wispy–bearded fly-by-night “days of rage” kid spirit, freshly bell-bottom pants minted, but some kind of revolutionary, some kind of radical anyway, who had thought about things a lot and wasn’t just a flame-thrower like she had seen too many of lately, including Steve, before he went to find himself.

    When Frank was done he looked, half-looked really, quickly in her direction like he was seeking her, and just her, approval. And like he needed to know and know right this minute that she approved. She blushed, and hoped it did not show. And hoped that she had read his look in her direction correctly. But before that blush could subside she blushed again when out of nowhere this Frank gave her a another look, a serious checking out look if she knew her “movement” men, not a leer like some drunken barroom guy, or “come on, honey,” like a schoolboy but a let’s talk high “ism” talk later, and see what happens later, later. Maybe this umpteenth conference would work out after all.

    So our Joyell was not surprised, not surprised at all, when during the break, the blessed break after two non-stop hours of waiting, Francis Alexander Jackman (that’s what he was called from when he was a kid and it kind of stuck but he preferred simply Frank) came up behind, tapped her gently on the shoulder to get her attention, introduced himself without fanfare or with any heroic poses, and thanked her for her work on his behalf.

    “What do you mean, Frank?” she asked, bewildered by the question. “Oh, when your Peace Action committee came up to Fort Shaw and demonstrated for my freedom,” he replied in kind of a whisper voice, very different from his public voice, a voice that had known some tough times recently and maybe long ago too, but that soft whisper was what she needed, needed to hear from a righteous man, just now. The shrill of Steve’s voice, and a couple of others in her string of forgotten luck, still echoed in her brain.

    “That was you? I didn’t make the connection. I didn’t know that was you, sorry, that was about a year ago and I have been going non-stop with this antiwar march and that women’s lib things. Were you in the stockade all that time?” she continued.

    “Ya,” just a ya, not forlorn or anything like that but just a simple statement of fact, of the fact that he had needed to do what he did and that was that, next question, came that soft reply like this Frank and she were on some same wave-length. She was confused, confused more than a little that he had that strong effect on her after about five minutes of just general conversation.

    Just then Marge, super-organizer but, as Joyell had already gathered intelligence on by then, not above having the last say in her little romances with the newest heroes of the movement, or trying to, called to Frank that Stanley Bloom, the big national anti-war organizer, wanted his input into something. But before he left soft -whispering still, calm still, unlike when he talked, talked peace action talk, he mentioned kind of kid-like, bashful kid-like, maybe they could meet later. Joyell could barely contain herself, and although she usually acted bashfully at these times, kind of a studied bashfulness starting out, even with Steve and some of the movement guys, she just blurted out, “We’d better.” He replied, a little stronger of voice than that previous whisper, “I guess that is a command, right?” And they both laughed, laughed an adventure ahead laugh.

    Later came, evening session complete, as they were sitting across from each other in the great room, the great fireplace room where Eric was going through his second rendition of Freight Train to get the room revved up for his big stuff. Frank came over and asked, back to whisper asked, if Joyell would like to go outside for a breath of fresh winter air. Or maybe somewhere else, another room inside perhaps if she didn’t like the cold or snow. No second request was necessary, and no coyness on her part either with this guy, as she quickly went to the coat rack and put on her coat, scarf, and boots. And so it went.

    They talked, or rather she talked a blue streak, a soft-spoken blue streak like Frank’s manner was contagious, and maybe it was. Then he would ask a question, and ask it in such a way that he really wanted to know, know her for her answer and not just to ask, polite ask. As they walked, and walked, and as the snow got deeper as they moved away from the pavilion she kind of fell, kind of helpless on purpose fell. On purpose fell expecting that he might kiss her. But all he did was pick her up, gently but firmly, held her in his arms just a fraction of a second, but a fraction of a second enough to let her know, and let her feel, that they had not seen the last of each other. And just for that cold, snow-driven February night, as war raged on in some distance land, and as she gathered in her tangled emotions after many romantic stumbles and man disappointments, that thought was enough.
    ***Songs To While The Time By- The Roots Is The Toots- Hazel Dickens' The Hills Of Home


    A YouTube clip to give some flavor to this subject.

    Over the past several years I have been running an occasional series in this space of songs, mainly political protest songs, you know The Internationale, Union Maid, Which Side Are You On, Viva La Quince Brigada, Universal Soldier, and such entitled Songs To While The Class Struggle By. This series which could include some protest songs as well is centered on roots music as it has come down the ages and formed the core of the American songbook. You will find the odd, the eccentric, the forebears of later musical trends, and the just plain amusing here. Listen up-Peter Paul Markin
    ***The Hills And Hollows Of “Home”- “The Hills Of Home: 25 Years Of Folk Music On Rounder Records”- A CD Review


    A YouTube film clip of Hazel Dickens performing her classic hills and hollows mountain classic, The Hills Of Home.

    The Hills Of Home: 25 Years Of Folk Music On Rounder Records, two CD set, various artists, Rounder Records, 1995

    Rumor, family rumor anyway, has it that I was in the womb when my parents went back down south to my father’s birthplace in Kentucky, Hazard, Kentucky to be exact, a place storied in song and hard class struggle. I “rebelled” against listening to that old-time nasal drear mountain music that my father used to play back in childhood days, much preferring first be-bop, doo wop, Elvis, Jerry Lee and Chuck rock, then the blues, urban and country, and then urban-based folk music. A few years back, maybe more now, I heard some old-time sounds on the radio coming from Hazel Dickens, probably Working Girl Blues or the title cut from this CD, The Hills Of Home. And, strangely, I was “home.” Home down in the wind-swept ragged old hollows (yes, I know the correct word is hollas but what can you do), the coal-dusted hills, and the tar paper shacks that my forbears called their place in the sun.

    So naturally, as is my wont when I am on to something seriously, I had to run out and buy some mountain music. And having been familiar, very familiar, with the efforts of the people at local Rounder Records to do in modern times what Charles Seeger and John and Alan Lomax did in their times-preserve the basic American songbook- I picked up this 25th anniversary compilation. Partially because it had The Hill of Home on it but also to give a good cross-section of what this “down home” music looked like to a novice, eager or not. And that is good place to end. Except to note several very good stick outs in this two CD set.

    They include: Norman Blake’s Church Street Blues; Rory Block’s Joliet Bound; Mississippi John Hurts’ Worried Blues; Etta Baker’s One Dime Blues; the above-mentioned The Hill of Home by Hazel Dickens; Woodstock Mountain Revue’s Killing The Blues; and Laurie Lewis’ Who Will Watch The Home Place. Okay.