Showing posts with label Obey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Obey. Show all posts

Sunday, 4 September 2011

Keystone XL pipline protest, Washington DC, August 20 - September 3, 2011.

or Whoremonger against the Tar Sands.
Up, Down, Appendices, Postscript.

¡Ya basta!The 18-hour bus ride from Toronto to Washington was exquisite torture - out-of-date coaches with out-of-date seats - I was crippled for my first day in Washington recovering. Devolution is everywhere evident. The bus service in rural Brazil is only about 200% better. It is determined somehow by airline propaganda I guess - even at the protest people say to me, "Well, why on earth didn't you fly?!"

Bus ride on the Peter Pan.But riding along the 'parkway' approaching Washington well past midnight, seeing clearly the squandering of resources that is highway life led to thinking of: Peter Pan - 'the myth', applied to Peter Pan - 'the bus line' and the country it travels through, so I made a short film: The Peter Pan ride to Washington. (35 sec.).

Keystone XL protest, September 1 2011.Keystone XL protest, September 1 2011.Day 13: We sat (or stood) ourselves down in front of the White House - home of Barack Obama and his family - on Labour Day, September 1. A symbolic action on a symbolic date - wheels within wheels.

These pictures are around me - but the important thing coming out of it is that I now know a few, some, individuals, by face and by name and with the beginnings of an appreciation of their characters; and they know the same about me. This is exactly the physical network of agapé I have been going on about week after week - see here: A Secular Age, Chapter 20 Conversions, Section 2 by Charles Taylor (the philosopher, not the Liberian war-lord).

Being warned to move along.The beginning of 'the arrest.'The men standing on both sides of me are (these links go directly to the Tar Sands Action Flickr pages): Benjamin Green (just off camera to the left) & is led away, Taylor Gunsauley is led away, Ron Eberhardt is led away, Jeffrey Frost is led away, David Clausen (also from Canada) is led away, myself (led away just below), Jim Sconyers is led away (without his new back-pack being confiscated), and Dillon (for whom I can only find an arrest shot, not a mug-shot) who was important to me because he knows how to navigate the Washington subway system and directed me when we had been released - at a moment when my brains were both literally and figuratively fried.

And some others who were important because we shared a paddy-wagon ride together: Charles (Charlie) Barrett is led away, Haywood Martin is led away, and Charles Spencer is led away. Charlie and I both had great difficulty getting in and out - for obvious reasons.

And a host of others. This was the thirteenth day of protest. We were the Lucky Thirteeners and there were more than 135 of us.

I would bet big money, even single-malt scotch, that the bonds we created during this action will remain until they are strengthened.

Initial fear,and surprising pain,are assuaged by a human touch from Mr. Watkins.There was fear, and there was pain; and then Mr. Watkins smiled when I said, "I thought you'd never ask." Later on we shared a real laugh over some of the nut-bars who congregate around the White House fence to shout complaints at Mr. Obama. He did not consider us (the Tar Sands Action) to be nut-bars. You can see this plainly if you browse through the Flickr photographs and take notice of his demeanour (and not just Mr. Watkins - many of the Park Police).

So. Human contact. Flesh on flesh. A network of agapé that will not soon be broken.

Oh, and the notion that this 'arrest' will prejudice future border crossings appears to be bogus nonsense - an excuse invented by the self-interested and self-important. I could be wrong, but whatever 'the risk' is, it is relatively low.

Oh, and the notion that these Park Police will humiliate us by forcing us to wet our pants in public is nonsense too. There is a port-a-potty in the Anacostia Station receiving room which was very clearly not installed any time recently, and when I ask one of the guards what it is for he says with a smile, "Well, what do you think it is for sir?"

Brigette DePape.The highlight was meeting Brigette DePape and being able to tell her in person how much I admire her. The guy who took this photograph for us told me we should step out into the sun - but I didn't believe him. Doh!?

An ambiguous & ambivalent story came out of it though: She mentioned that Maude Barlow was organizing a separate action at the Canadian Embassy in the afternoon. My feet were sore and I had to get off them - but as I was leaving to take a short nap I decided to go the extra mile and that I would wake early and attend. So I turned back to the park and found her. But she didn't know the address of the embassy. I spied Maude herself and went over to ask at the source (so to speak). I was apparently not polite enough in my approach. I sincerely do not know what set her off. When she didn't know the address either, saying to me, "I have staff who know that kind of thing," and when I allowed (with a smile) that maybe she should know where she was going to be two hours hence, I got a loud tongue lashing from her defensive consort who went so far as to wish bad luck upon me - gratuitously I thought. I sure hope it doesn't stick - good thing I am not superstitious. Anyway, I didn't go to the embassy and it was probably just as well - my feet were still hurting the next day.

Three Canadian Women.Another highlight was meeting these three beautiful Canadian women, one of whom comes from a neighbourhood of Toronto and a street that I happen to know very well. What a pleasant surprise!


Marie Parham.And Marie, who opened her mind and shared some of her thoughts with me and who is afraid neither of despair nor of ideas she does not agree with.


Paul & Haywood.Gitz Crazyboy.And Paul & Haywood who are not afraid either.

And Gitz Crazyboy aka Ryan Deranger, from Fort Chipewyan, who tells that part of the story with such eloquence and clarity and force that it will not be possible (I believe) for anyone to walk around it. If you search 'Gitz Crazyboy' on YouTube you will find his encounter with Ezra Levant which reveals our Ezra as the quintessential k-k-Canadian sleveen.

Dylan Schneider.And Dylan Schneider of Peaceful Uprising with first-hand news of Tim DeChristopher.

And there was a woman who can really sing. And a guy who is not quite a ringer but who definitely brings Jack Layton to mind ... And And And ...


I have to stop ... my cup runneth over.

Start Loving.Start Loving.Start Loving.Denouement: Start Loving aka Jay McGinley is hard to miss if you are anywhere around the White House. He has a speaker system and plays various speeches by people such as Lester Brown (I think), and his own opinions on all and sundry; and unless you listen and pay attention you can find it distracting. Indeed, it is possible to become annoyed.

Something in the acid blue of his eyes caught me. I overheard various of the 'organizers' trying to figgure out how to make him stop - and I gather that they eventually just asked him because he did turn off his speakers during the action.

So before I left the city I wanted to talk to him. And he was willing - except that I could not make out his whisper. He raised his voice sufficiently for me to hear and I found, for the first time in a very long time, someone with whom I could about perfectly agree on our environmental brokenness.

There are a number of videos: trailer and Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5; and there is this article in the Washington Post: A Hunger For Justice from 2007 (and others like it that are easy to find).

But the videos and the news reports are just nothing like the man I met in front of the White House. Nothing like him. Not at all. I do not (for instance) happen to believe that Jesus has got anything to do with it - but that neither impeded our conversation nor lessened the effect of what he said to me.

I have been struggling with despair - and he could see that, and agreed with me that despair won't kill you, so ... Get on with it then. We don't have much time.

As for the top-down bureaucratic approaches like the one I was contributing to there in Washington at the time - I know they won't work, they are the merest setting out and their constant & pervasive correctitude, their hewing to the party line and no further makes them go off in wrong directions at times (if not most of the time, if not all of the time) - he called that kind of thing 'Henny-Penny' which hit the nail on the head for me.

So ... I guess you would have to go there and meet him to understand what I am putting out here.

Disobey.I got into a discussion with one of the Tar Sands Action organizers - and he was literally steering people away from Start Loving, recommending that everyone avoid him entirely (although, of course, he had never spoken to him).

Best I can offer. :-)Au contraire Amigo: Go there and maybe he can help you light your fire, or show you how to light it, or show you that, yes, it can be lit ... or something ...

And you might like to check out Gentileza while you are at it, here: José Datrino, Profeta de Gentileza (in both English and Portuguese).

Be well.

Postscript:

Whoremonger against the Tar Sands:
If it had not been for Dick Cheney and his Halliburton I would not have learned Portuguese - my Portuguese lessons (of the highest quality) were delivered on his nickle. And if I had not learned Portuguese I would not have heard Betinho's story of the Lion and the Hummingbird (in last week's post). And knowing this story has changed me quite a bit.

As I was confessing (in a manner of speaking) my former sins in working with and for these kinds of people to my colleagues in the Washington action, I could see that some of them didn't like it. Others said to me, "Well, that goes to show how some people can change."

Because I hand out 350 buttons some people think I am associated with the .org of that name - which I am not. But people like you to be 'with' someone, some thing. So I thought of inventing 'Whoremongers against the Tar Sands' to have an organization to be 'with' - didn't do it, didn't invent it, but I thought about it and hummed a few bars of Sisters of Mercy ... maybe it turns out there is only one, oh well ... whatever.

On the night before we demonstrated there was 'training' at St. Stephen's church, and someone asked me why I had come. So I started to tell him the truth, which is sort'a complicated given what I think of Bill McKibben and given my despair & lack of hope. I could see his eyes glazing over and realized that what he wanted was a quickie, something easy-to-understand, a capital 'R' 'Reason'.

Keep it simple, stupid. :-)And you know, Canadians like to oblige, it's part of our culture (if we can be said to have one). So I said, "I have three grandchildren and I want to be able to look them in the eye." Perfect. Exactly what the doctor ordered.


Appendices:

1. A Hunger For Justice, Delphine Schrank, April 14 2007.
2. Tar Sands and the Carbon Numbers, NYT Editorial, August 21 2011.


A Hunger For Justice, Delphine Schrank, April 14 2007.

Forty-four days without food and counting, and he thinks his mind is starting to slow. There are days he is so nauseated, he can barely move. His legs, he says, have swelled up from a problem with his kidneys. His body doesn't give off heat anymore. But his resolve -- his heart, he would say -- hasn't faltered. If need be, he says, he'll take this to the end.

A few hundred yards away from a statue of Mahatma Gandhi on Massachusetts Avenue, 55-year-old Start Loving, a former business executive known to his friends and family as Jay McGinley, lives on the sidewalk in front of the Sudanese Embassy, a month into surviving on nothing but water and the will to stir the world into stopping genocide. Bearded, sunburned and dirty from weeks on the street, he could be another homeless wretch -- except that hanging like wings off his shoulders are two giant laminated orange placards that read "Darfur Hunger Strike March 1."

By night he is swaddled in a green sleeping bag, snatching a fitful few hours of sleep without lying flat, else he'd risk arrest. By day, he sits on a plastic crate on the sidewalk or in the street, a hair too close to the passing cars. Or he steps up and down on a couple of bricks, to expend more calories, he says. He is placid, unobtrusive, never looking passersby in the eye, sometimes huddled over a well-thumbed Bible.

"What I'm doing is not clever," he says. "It's exactly what Gandhi, what King, what Jesus did."

It is, in short, a cry to society's collective conscience. At least 450,000 people have died in the Darfur region of Sudan as a result of violence and disease, and millions have been displaced since 2003, when the Sudanese government responded to a rebel uprising by bombing villages and arming a militia known as the Janjaweed as part of a campaign of aggression that the U.S. government has called a genocide.

Driven by a newspaper article he read three years ago about the atrocities in Darfur, the man formerly known as McGinley gave up his job last May running a small retail outfit in Pennsylvania, moved to the streets of the District with $10 in his pocket and began a nonstop vigil, either forgoing food completely or on a semi-starvation diet of a few hundred calories a day, to protest the world's inaction.

"Babies are being killed. Women are being gang-raped, then mutilated. What kind of human beings are we if we don't respond?" he asks.

Only if thousands of people were willing to stand up, on a hunger strike, Loving says, would the U.S. government be prepared to risk its political capital and take meaningful action: Pressure Sudanese President Omar Hassan al-Bashir into softening his stance, and persuade China to stop its massive trade with the country in weapons and oil.

Loving posted himself in front of the Sudanese Embassy on March 13 -- a spot he was happy to discover was smack in the middle of Embassy Row and the daily commute of the diplomatic corps -- and slipped a letter under the door asking Bashir to "soften his heart" in return for Loving's life.

Before that, he held his vigil in Lafayette Square in front of the White House, where he befriended William Thomas, who for nearly 26 years has maintained a protest against nuclear weapons on a patch of ground he staked out long ago, complete with two yellow placards dense with text ("DON'T BE A LEMMING") and a rain canopy.

"If you starve yourself to death, people will write you off as a kook," Thomas said, sitting at his post in a drizzle. "I've been telling him each day, 'You should rethink this.' " Thomas and his wife, Ellen, supply Loving with his daily needs -- these days, now that he's not eating, mainly water. They also let him use the computer at their Washington Peace Center office to update his blog at Standwithdarfursudanembassy.blogspot.com. (He took a break from his embassy post on recent nights to update it and used the chance to freshen up, spend a night out of the cold and lie low from the Secret Service after stepping too close one evening to Vice President Cheney's convoy.)

Darfur, however, is not the first cause for which he has been ready to stake his life and livelihood -- causes that have cost him his family.

Born and reared in Short Hills, N.J., Loving graduated from Ithaca College in 1974, has an MBA from Syracuse and worked most of his professional life in the computer industry helping to turn around failing organizations. But he gradually came to realize that he felt empty "making rich people richer."

In 1997 he left his job as a vice president of a software company, enrolled in a graduate counseling course and took a job as a school counselor in the impoverished Delaware County city of Chester in Pennsylvania. In the fall of 2001, anguished by the plight of the children there, he left his wife of 27 years and their two sons, now 22 and 26, along with the bulk of his assets, moved into his car and put himself on a semi-starvation diet to express his outrage.

After reading about him in a newspaper, a suburban Philadelphia family, the Austins, took him into their home and gave him a job on the management team of their chain of stores, Relax the Back.

Loving says he has since gone into debt helping Timothy Phiri, a former anti-apartheid fighter in South Africa who was living in poverty in Chester with his family and unable to work until his immigration status was clear. Loving financed the family's asylum efforts, and paid much of the college tuition of Phiri's son, Obakeng.

Meanwhile, Loving remains largely estranged from his own family, although one of his sons, who asked not to be identified, visited him two weeks ago for the first time in a year and a half.

"He's always been a person of very strong conviction. And I believe he truly believes in his cause," said his ex-wife, Cathy. But, she adds, "it's been very painful."

Mary-Rachel Austin, 26, who has been a close friend of Loving's for five years since her husband's family took him in, said, "He's done it because more than anyone I know, he experiences others as his own family. When he thinks about those people in Darfur, he thinks they're his family. He has that without needing to meet them."

"I don't know for sure about the impact," said Phiri, who now works in the Bryn Mawr store of the Austin family's chain, "but someone must do something. There must be someone putting the first brick or cornerstone down."

For Phiri and Austin, there is something almost saintly about Loving. Steeped in the literature of nonviolent protest, he can expound at length on the importance of the heart. Citing the Jesuit thinker Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, he says: "After we have mastered the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness the energies of love. Then for the second time in history, man will have discovered fire." Or, explaining his penchant for the New Testament: "If you take the deity out of Jesus, you get Gandhi."

Loving -- the emotion, not the man -- is the missing ingredient in the struggle to end suffering in Darfur, he avers, because with it comes the willingness for self-sacrifice.

"Our hearts know what to do with Darfur. . . . We have to stop thinking, stop talking and start loving. And then," he says, pulling back the hood of his orange sweat shirt to reveal a monklike expanse of shiny pate, "I always wondered what this was for. My entire life mission is this. So it was just, duh!"

And so, struck by the epiphany a week into his fast, Jay McGinley dubbed himself Start Loving (call him Start) and had the words emblazoned in a cross on his forehead, courtesy of a downtown tattoo parlor that offered the service free.

Since March 1, he estimates he has lost about 30 pounds, or three-quarters of a pound a day, from his 170-pound, 5-foot-8 frame. On water alone he held out until Tuesday, returned to a semi-starvation liquid diet for a couple of days, and is now back on no food. Taking in a few hundred calories occasionally, he hopes to stall the weight loss a little to let him last until late June. Better to bear witness over a longer period, he says, than just "winking out" before the United States will have had a chance to preside over the U.N. Security Council next month and have a final stab at action.

Sudanese Ambassador John Ukec Lueth Ukec, who has Loving's letter in a stack of papers on his office desk, said that Loving is on public property and breaking no laws, and that he has no official comment. "That doesn't mean we don't sympathize with his feelings," he said. "He is a human being and he has a right to protest. I'm sorry that he is very much misinformed. Otherwise several Darfuris would be with him.

"There are so many other ways to reduce the pain of others without inflicting pain on himself," the ambassador said, adding that he would be willing to give Loving a visa so that he could visit Darfur as a social worker. Loving could also witness the complexity of the situation in a place where, he said, securing a lasting peace has been complicated by infighting among rebel factions.

Told of the offer, Loving smiles and turns away. He reiterates that if others were to join him, they could fan out first to the Chinese Embassy, then to the Indian, and finally back to the White House, the better to cause enough commotion to plant the seed of action in President Bush's heart.

But he has no illusions that his lone protest will make a difference. "I'm here because my brothers and sisters are being killed. It's not my responsibility what others do. It's only my responsibility what I do. I can do nothing less in the face of this atrocity." He pauses to swallow his welling tears. "I wish I had thousands of lives to give. But I have mine and this is how I choose to spend it."


Tar Sands and the Carbon Numbers, NYT Editorial, August 21 2011.

This page opposes the building of a 1,700-mile pipeline called the Keystone XL, which would carry diluted bitumen — an acidic crude oil — from Canada’s Alberta tar sands to the Texas Gulf Coast. We have two main concerns: the risk of oil spills along the pipeline, which would traverse highly sensitive terrain, and the fact that the extraction of petroleum from the tar sands creates far more greenhouse emissions than conventional production does.

The Canadian government insists that it has found ways to reduce those emissions. But a new report from Canada’s environmental ministry shows how great the impact of the tar sands will be in the coming years, even with cleaner production methods.

It projects that Canada will double its current tar sands production over the next decade to more than 1.8 million barrels a day. That rate will mean cutting down some 740,000 acres of boreal forest — a natural carbon reservoir. Extracting oil from tar sands is also much more complicated than pumping conventional crude oil out of the ground. It requires steam-heating the sands to produce a petroleum slurry, then further dilution.

One result of this process, the ministry says, is that greenhouse gas emissions from the oil and gas sector as a whole will rise by nearly one-third from 2005 to 2020 — even as other sectors are reducing emissions. Canada still hopes to meet the overall target it agreed to at Copenhagen in 2009 — a 17 percent reduction from 2005 levels by 2020. If it falls short, as seems likely, tar sands extraction will bear much of the blame.

Canada’s government is committed to the tar sands business. (Alberta’s energy minister, Ronald Liepert, has declared, “I’m not interested in Kyoto-style policies.”) The United States can’t do much about that, but it can stop the Keystone XL pipeline.

The State Department will decide whether to approve or reject the pipeline by the end of the year. It has already delivered two flawed reports on the pipeline’s environmental impact. It should acknowledge the environmental risk of the pipeline and the larger damage caused by tar sands production and block the Keystone XL.


Down.

Sunday, 28 August 2011

Fé.

Good for nothing? or Inescapable? or Both? or Not.
Up, Down.

¡Ya basta!"O governo falseia a realidade", afirma dom Erwin Kräutler (see here).

Eu também.

Disobey.It has been long & difficult & fruitless meditation (tagged problematique) on 'worthless existence'. What could they have meant? What could they mean?

Arriving at a dim memory of my complete misunderstanding of In Watermelon Sugar - it was 1968, I liked thinking of sex with Pauline. Just now discovering the dark & hopeless story of what happens when the salt really does lose its savour - an exemplar, a paradigm (see Matthew, & the complete text of In Watermelon Sugar here).

A comprehensive website around Richard Brautigan gives me, "[He] reminds us that a worse thing than violence and death could be a life without pity or joy."

Disliking Derrick Jensen - but accepting the signs & blazes in his premiss on Hope if not agreeing with all of his points. Hobbits and Muggles oh my! One Ring to find them and in the darkness bind them.

Mideo Cruz - Christ.Mideo Cruz, a Filipino artist, and his colleague Racquel De Loyola. And a Brazilian cartoonist, a gaúcho, Allan Sieber, who writes, "Fé em Jesus é um beijo no apêndice."

Erwin Kräutler.Erwin Kräutler.Erwin Kräutler.The 'teu sonho' / 'your dream' in the photograph at the right refers to Sister Dorothy. That Erwin Kräutler fellow is no slouch now, is he? Look at the smile on 'im. And again, below with one arm around Tuíra Kayapó. Look carefully at these smiles. Somehow he has threaded the needle. Not one of those wily Jesuits but a missionary of the precious blood (whatever that is).

Does anyone doubt for a moment that the government has falsified reality? That they do little else? Could anyone possibly be so lost & twisted as not to see light shining in this man? (Light y'unnerstan' ... not 'the' light or any such tosh.)

Erwin Kräutler with Tuíra Kayapó & friends.Disliking Bill McKibben and the milquetoast k-k-Canadian activists ... but ... (still) (maybe) ... getting on a bus early Tuesday morning to go to Washington and join the protest (if I get there & if they'll have me). And later on, next month (maybe), in Ottawa.

Or not.
If my health allows. If my fears allow. If I feel like it. If my feet allow or even in spite of my feet. If ...

She says, "pity or joy" you see, not faith & hope, not 'Faith Hope & Charity and the greatest of these ...'

(not, as our Jack's ghost squeaks & gibbers at us from beyond the grave in his perfected & sentimental suicide note, adjuring us: "My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world." Precious stuff. Sententious stuff. Stuff & nonsense. ... More like: Be afraid. Be terrified. Be angry. Despair. Grasp at love if you will but abandon hope. Grieve. But do not die. Though you will change nothing, go and strengthen what you can find of what remains.)

Typically when we say 'contingent' we mean: Liable to happen or not; of uncertain occurrence or incidence; by chance; not determined by necessity in regard to action or existence; free. (Free?) But in a literal sense, from the meaning of the Latin contingere it is: Touching each other, in contact - and a host of related, even geometric (tangential) allusions.

Here we are again. :-)Bringing me full circle (as it were) (yet again) to the good samaritan being touched in his guts.

Be well gentle reader.

Two stories / Dois contos:
Herbert de Souza, O Betinho: O Beija-flor / The Hummingbird

 Houve um incêndio na floresta e enquanto todos os bichos corriam apavorados, um pequeno beija-flor ia do rio para o incêndio levando gotinhas de água em seu bico. O leão, vendo aquilo, perguntou para o beija-flor: "Ó beija-flor, você acha que vai conseguir apagar o incêndio sozinho?" E o beija-flor respondeu: "Eu não sei se vou conseguir, mas estou fazendo a minha parte". There was a fire in the forest and while all the animals ran in fear, a little hummingbird went from the river to the fire carrying drops of water in her beak. The lion, seeing this, asked the hummingbird, "O Hummingbird, do you think you will succeed in putting out the fire all by yourself?" And the hummingbird replied, "O Lion, I do not know if I will succeed or not, but I am doing my part."
 
 
Amos Oz: The Order of the Teaspoon / A Ordem da Colher de Chá

 Let us conclude with my story of the Order of the Teaspoon. I believe that if one person is watching a huge calamity - let's say a conflagration - there are always three principal options. Option 1: Run away, as far away and as fast as you can, and let those who cannot run burn. Option 2: Write a very angry letter to the editor of your paper demanding that the responsible people be removed from office in disgrace. Or for that matter, launch a demonstration. Option 3: Bring a bucket of water and throw it on the fire, and if you don't have a bucket, bring a glass, and if you don't have a glass, use a teaspoon - everyone has a teaspoon. And yes, I know a teaspoon is little and the fire is huge, but there are millions of us and each one of us has a teaspoon. Now I would like to establish the Order of the Teaspoon. People who share my attitude - not the run-away attitude, or the letter attitude, but the teaspoon attitude - I would like them to walk around wearing a little teaspoon on the lapel of their jackets, so that we know we are in the same movement, in the same brotherhood, in the same order, the Order of the Teaspoon. This is my philosophy in a nutshell - or in a teaspoon, if you wish. Vamos concluir com a minha história de Ordem da Colher de Chá. Eu creio que se uma pessoa está olhando uma grand calamidade - quer dizer uma conflagração - estão sempre três opções principais. Opção 1: Fugir, tanto longe e tanto rapido possível, e deixa eles que não podem correr para queimar. Opção 2: Escreve uma carta bem zangada para o editor de seu jornal mandando que as pessoas responsiveis sejam despedidos no defavor. Ou seja montar uma demonstração. Opção 3: Traz um balde de agua e joga no fogo, e se você não tem balde, traze um copo, e se você não tem copo, usa uma colher de chá - todo mundo tem uma colher de chá. E sim, eu sei que uma colher de chá é pequena e o fogo é imenso, mas nos somos milhões e cada um de nos tem colher de chá. Então eu gostaria estabelecer a Ordem da Colher de Chá. A gente que participam a minha atitude - não a atitude de fugir, nem a atitude da carta, mas a atitude de colher de chá - eu gostaria que eles usar uma pequena colher de chá na lapela de seus casacos, ate que sabemos que estamos no mesmo movimento, no mesmo fraternidade, na mesma irmandade, na mesma ordem, a Ordem da Colher de Chá. Isso é a minha filosofia resumidamente - ou mesmo numa colher de chá.
 
 
Betinho.Betinho & Maria Nakano.Betinho.Betinho.Betinho & Daniel.Betinho.Betinho.Betinho.If you don't know of these guys, it probably wouldn't hurt to find out a bit about 'em.

Betinho said of himself, "Eu nasci para o desastre, porém com sorte." / "I was born to disaster - but with luck." Just look at the way he smiles beside his son Daniel. And - he was a dancin' man, yeah. It took more than haemophilia, tuberculosis, AIDS, to get this guy down. There is an album of photographs here.

Amos Oz.Amos Oz.Amos Oz.Amos Oz.Amos Oz.Amos Oz & Nily.Amos Oz & Nily.Amos Oz.There is lots of stuff on the Internet and in the library.

Amos Oz fought in the Six Day War and was a founder of Peace Now. In particular I recommend his little book How to Cure a Fanatic.


Down.

Sunday, 27 February 2011

profound & fundamental disconnect

or I got nothin’ to say, 'specially about, whatever it was ...
Up, Down, Appendices, Postscript.


Excuse me. I'm going to need this to run my car.Excuse me. I'm going to need this to run my car.No really good things came my way this week. Oh well; so it goes eh?

There were a few modest things, not quite 'good' but close maybe (sorry to prevaricate) ...

Steed Lord & wha'cha gonna do when the sky turns red and again here here here and here, and of course, a line of fashion & accessories to go along with it ... (thanks to Miss Jodie).

your time has come
a storm is coming
our storm
come on

OBEY!I walk up in the club
I'm searchin' for my drugs
these days are way too long
I need to get some kind'a love

my eyes are locked on you
can you tell me the truth
I need to feel you touchin' me
its travelin' inside my mind

wha'cha gonna do when the sky turns red
wha'cha gonna do when the sky turns red
waiting for the sun that never sets
will you come'a closer take my hand

the day is drawing near
the moon is almost clear
why can't I face my fears
I want the wild lady to appear

I gotta go, let's go, wha'cha gonna do
wha'cha gonna do when the sky turns red
take my hand


Svala Björgvinsdóttir aka Kali of Steed LordBill BlairGillian FindlayA-and this from the CBC's Fifth Estate (on their exceedingly lame website): You Should Have Stayed At Home; including the Toronto G20 laid out time-wise and with an interview by Gillian Findlay with the Chief of Po-leece, Bill Blair (if you can bear the ads at double volume) ... or better, download it and bypass the over-loud advertisements and the lame CBC infrastructure entirely.

And this: Economic Hitmen (thanks to Greenspiration for 'You Should Have Stayed At Home' & 'Economic Hitmen').

Considering our Bill Blair there, between Svala Björgvinsdóttir & Gillian Findlay ... instead of 'a thorn between two roses' you could say a damp (mealy mouthed) squib between two blondes, but I'm not sure that any of them is a true blonde.

The Globe, citing a survey cooked up by realtors, says "House prices see annual gains of 6.8% over past 10 years," while in the Star it's "Housing prices to drop 25%, forecaster predicts." That's good-ish news I guess. The BBC reports "UK GDP figure revised down further," and "... the economy is still flattish at minus 0.1%." These are a few hopeful signs, but the people writing this bumph don't really have any idea.

... as for me ...

:-)I got nothin’ to say, 'specially about, whatever it was ...

Be well.

Postscript:

Doonesbury watches the news.I have been following events in the middle east of course, but this Doonesbury ... well, after I looked at the Sunday funnies I decided to select the best of what I have seen and post it. I don't use TV but I think Garry Trudeau's representation is about right. And not only for TV either, the Internet is about the same, everyone screaming, "LOOK AT ME!"

I am an elitist snob, so mob rule doesn't much appeal to me; nor the notion of government by polls or unending referendums. But the elites, like God during the Holocaust, have turned their backs on us and are pursuing only their own (and their immediate families') well being. They have turned wealth into illth & filth.

The first reports seemed to be all about portraying 'social media' as some kind of ... what? But the social media don't appeal to me either. So as I fossicked about the Internet dung heap I was looking for other reasons.

Gwynne Dyer has a cool head and his two pieces (presented out of time-sequence but in the order I found them) laid it out pretty clearly I thought:
          Why now?, February 20, and,
          Good sense of the Arabs, February 14.

I don't know a thing about Fouad Ajami beyond what is in this article: How the Arabs Turned Shame Into Liberty; and they have yet to turn anything into any 'liberty' I would recognize; but he sketches the history, and reveals himself maybe more than he intended, so I include him too.

TahrirTahrirTahrirTahrirTahrirI am especially leery of mobs which include religion and religious rites. I will spare you pictures of people holding up their shoes. Throwing one at W was a beautiful thing to behold, but I wonder how self-conscious a crowd is when they all hold their shoes up together for what looks like a photo op, sorry.

Tahrir cleanupTahrir cleanupTahrir cleanupTahrir cleanupTahrir cleanupMy friend Crowbird used to go around cleaning things up, sometimes just to pass the time.

There are never as many to clean up as there were to make the mess. It is not entirely clear what is going on, but it looks like some people at least got right to work. That's the stuff.


Appendices:

1. Why now?, Gwynne Dyer, February 20 2011.
2. Good sense of the Arabs, Gwynne Dyer, February 14 2011.
3. How the Arabs Turned Shame Into Liberty, Fouad Ajami, February 26 2011.


Why now?, Gwynne Dyer, February 20 2011.

Why now? Why revolutions in Tunisia and Egypt this year, rather than last year, or 10 years ago, or never? The protestors now taking to the street daily in Jordan, Yemen, Bahrain, Libya and Algeria are obviously inspired by the success of those revolutions, but what got the process started? What changed in the Middle East?

Yes, of course the Arab world is largely ruled by autocratic regimes that suppress all opposition and dissent, sometimes with great cruelty. Yes, of course many of those regimes are corrupt, and some of them are effectively in the service of foreigners. Of course most Arabs are poor and getting poorer. But that has all been true for decades. It never led to upheavals before.

Maybe the frustration and resentment that have been building up for so long just needed a spark. Maybe the self-immolation of a single young man set Tunisia alight, and from there the flames spread quickly to half a dozen other Arab countries. But you can`t find anybody who really believes that this could just as easily have happened five years ago, or 10, or 20.

Yet there is no reason to suppose that the level of popular anger has gone up substantially in the past two or five or 10 years. It`s high all the time, but in normal times most people are very cautious about expressing it openly. You can get hurt that way.

Now they are expressing their anger very loudly indeed, and long-established Arab regimes are starting to panic. The fall of Hosni Mubarak in Egypt, by far the largest Arab country, makes it possible that many other autocratic regimes in the Arab world could fall like dominoes. The rapid collapse of the communist regimes in Europe in 1989 is a frightening precedent for them. But, once again, why is this happening now?

`Social media` is one widely touted explanation, and the al-Jazeera network`s wall-to-wall coverage of the events in Tunisia and Egypt is another. Both are plausible parts of the explanation, for the availability of means of communication that are beyond the reach of state censorship clearly makes mass mobilisation much easier. If people are ready to come out on the street and protest, the media makes it easier for them to organise. But this really does not explain why they are ready to come out at last.

The one thing that is really different in the Middle East, just in the last year or two, is the self-evident fact that the United States is starting to withdraw from the region. From Lebanon in 1958 to Iraq in 2003, the US was willing to intervene militarily to defend Arab regimes it liked and overthrow those that it did not like. That`s over now.

This great change is partly driven by the thinly-disguised American defeat in Iraq. The last US troops are leaving that country this year, and after that grim experience US public opinion will not countenance another major American military intervention in the region. The safety net for Arab regimes allied to the United States is being removed, and their people know it.

There is also a major strategic reassessment going on in Washington, and it will almost certainly end by downgrading the importance of the Middle East in US policy. The Arab masses do not know that, but the regimes certainly do, and it undermines their confidence.

The traditional motives for American strategic involvement in the Middle East were oil and Israel. American oil supplies had to be protected, and the Cold War was a zero-sum game in which any regime that the US did not control was seen to be at risk of falling into the hands of the Soviet Union. And quite apart from sentimental considerations, Israel had to be protected because it was an important military asset.

But the Cold War is long over, and so is the zero-sum game in the Middle East.


Good sense of the Arabs, Gwynne Dyer, February 14 2011.

They wouldn't do it for al-Qaida, but they finally did it for themselves. The young Egyptian protesters who overthrew the Mubarak regime on Saturday have accomplished what two generations of violent Islamist revolutionaries could not. And they did not just do it nonviolently; they succeeded because they were nonviolent.

They also succeeded because they had reasonable goals that could attract mass support: democracy, economic growth, social justice. This was in marked contrast to the goals of the Islamist radicals, which were so unrealistic that they never managed to get the support of the Arab masses.

Even to talk about "the masses" sounds anachronistic these days, but when we are talking about revolution it is still a relevant category. Revolutions, whether Islamist or democratic, win if they can gain mass support, and fail if they cannot. The Islamists have got a great deal of attention in the past two decades, and especially since 9/11, but as revolutionaries they are spectacular failures.

The problem was their analysis of what was wrong in the Arab world. Like most extremist versions of religion, Islamism is a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder. Its diagnosis essentially says that the poverty, oppression and humiliation that Arabs experience are due to the fact that they are not obeying God's rules, especially about dress and behavior, and so God has turned His face from them.

The cure for all these ills, therefore, is precise and universal observance of all God's rules and injunctions, as interpreted in their peculiarly narrow and intolerant version of Islam. Men must grow their beards, for example, but they must not trim them. If only they get these and a thousand other details right, the Arabs will be rich, respected and victorious, for then God will be willing to help them.

The Islamists never talked about the Arabs, of course. They spoke only of "the Muslims," for their ideology rejected all distinctions of history, language and nationality: the ultimate objective was a unified "Caliphate" that erased all borders between Muslim countries. In practice, however, most of them were Arabs, although Arabs are only a quarter of the world's Muslims.

Osama bin Laden is a Saudi Arabian. His deputy, Dr. Ayman al-Zawahiri, is an Egyptian. The great majority of the founders of al-Qaida were Arabs. That makes sense, for it is the Arab world that has seen the greatest fall from former prosperity, lives under the worst dictatorships, and has suffered the greatest humiliations at the hands of the West and Israel.

From Turkey to Indonesia, most non-Arab Muslim countries enjoy reasonable economic growth, and some are full-blooded democracies. Their governments work on behalf of their own countries, not for Western interests, and they do not have to contend with an Israeli problem. If there was ever going to be mass support for the Islamist revolution, it was going to be in the Arab world.

Revolutionary movements often resort to terrorism: it's a cheap way of drawing attention to your ideas, and it may even lead to an uprising if the target regime responds by becoming even more oppressive. The first generation of Islamists thought they would trigger an uprising in Saudi Arabia when they seized control of the Grand Mosque in Mecca in 1979, and in Egypt when they assassinated President Anwar Sadat in 1981.

There were no mass uprisings in support of the Islamists either then or later, however, and the reason is that Arabs aren't fools. Many of them intensely disliked the regimes they lived under, but it took only one look at the Islamist fanatics, with their straggly beards and counter-rotating eyeballs, to know that they would not be an improvement.

A second generation of Islamists, spearheaded by al-Qaida, pushed the strategy of making things worse to its logical conclusion. If driving Arab regimes into greater repression could not trigger pro-Islamist revolutions, maybe the masses could be radicalized by tricking the Americans into invading Muslim countries. That was the strategy behind the 9/11 attacks ― but still the masses would not come out in the streets.

When they finally did come out in the past couple of months, first in Tunisia, then in Egypt, and already in other Arab countries as well, it was not in support of the Islamist project at all. What the protesters were demanding was democracy and an end to corruption. Some of them may want a bigger presence for Islam in public life, and others may not, but very few of them want revolutionary Islamism.

It is a testimony to the good sense of the Arabs, and a rebuke to the ignorant rabble of Western pundits and "analysts" who insisted that Arabs could not do democracy at all, or could only be given it at the point of Western guns.

It is equally a rebuke to bin Laden and his Islamist companions, hidden in their various caves. They were never going to sweep to power across the Arab world, let alone the broader Muslim world, and only the most impressionable and excitable observers ever thought they would.


How the Arabs Turned Shame Into Liberty, Fouad Ajami, February 26 2011.

Perhaps this Arab Revolution of 2011 had a scent for the geography of grief and cruelty. It erupted in Tunisia, made its way eastward to Egypt, Yemen and Bahrain, then doubled back to Libya. In Tunisia and Egypt political freedom seems to have prevailed, with relative ease, amid popular joy. Back in Libya, the counterrevolution made its stand, and a despot bereft of mercy declared war against his own people.

In the calendar of Muammar el-Qaddafi’s republic of fear and terror, Sept. 1 marks the coming to power, in 1969, of the officers and conspirators who upended a feeble but tolerant monarchy. Another date, Feb. 17, will proclaim the birth of a new Libyan republic, a date when a hitherto frightened society shed its quiescence and sought to topple the tyranny of four decades. There is no middle ground here, no splitting of the difference. It is a fight to the finish in a tormented country. It is a reckoning as well, the purest yet, with the pathologies of the culture of tyranny that has nearly destroyed the world of the Arabs.

The crowd hadn’t been blameless, it has to be conceded. Over the decades, Arabs took the dictators’ bait, chanted their names and believed their promises. They averted their gazes from the great crimes. Out of malice or bigotry, that old “Arab street” — farewell to it, once and for all — had nothing to say about the terror inflicted on Shiites and Kurds in Iraq, for Saddam Hussein was beloved by the crowds, a pan-Arab hero, an enforcer of Sunni interests.

Nor did many Arabs take notice in 1978 when Imam Musa al-Sadr, the leader of the Shiites of Lebanon, disappeared while on a visit to Libya. In the lore of the Arabs, hospitality due a guest is a cardinal virtue of the culture, but the crime has gone unpunished. Colonel Qaddafi had money to throw around, and the scribes sang his praise.

Colonel Qaddafi had presented himself as the inheritor of the legendary Egyptian strongman Gamal Abdel Nasser. He had written, it was claimed, the three-volume Green Book, which by his lights held a solution for all the problems of governance, and servile Arab intellectuals indulged him, pretending that the collection of nonsensical dictums could be given serious reading.

***

To understand the present, we consider the past. The tumult in Arab politics began in the 1950s and the 1960s, when rulers rose and fell with regularity. They were struck down by assassins or defied by political forces that had their own sources of strength and belief. Monarchs were overthrown with relative ease as new men, from more humble social classes, rose to power through the military and through radical political parties.

By the 1980s, give or take a few years, in Egypt, Syria, Iraq, Libya, Algeria and Yemen, a new political creature had taken hold: repressive “national security states” with awesome means of control and terror. The new men were pitiless, they re-ordered the political world, they killed with abandon; a world of cruelty had settled upon the Arabs.

Average men and women made their accommodation with things, retreating into the privacy of their homes. In the public space, there was now the cult of the rulers, the unbounded power of Saddam Hussein and Muammar el-Qaddafi and Hafez al-Assad in Syria and Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali in Tunisia. The traditional restraints on power had been swept away, and no new social contract between ruler and ruled had emerged.

Fear was now the glue of politics, and in the more prosperous states (the ones with oil income) the ruler’s purse did its share in the consolidation of state terror. A huge Arab prison had been constructed, and a once-proud people had been reduced to submission. The prisoners hated their wardens and feared the guards, and on the surface of things, the autocracies were there to stay.

Yet, as they aged, the coup-makers and political plotters of yesteryear sprouted rapacious dynasties; they became “country owners,” as a distinguished liberal Egyptian scholar and diplomat once put it to me. These were Oriental courts without protocol and charm, the wives and the children of the rulers devouring all that could be had by way of riches and vanity.

Shame — a great, disciplining force in Arab life of old — quit Arab lands. In Tunisia, a hairdresser-turned-despot’s wife, Leila Ben Ali, now pronounced on all public matters; in Egypt the despot’s son, Gamal Mubarak, brazenly staked a claim to power over 80 million people; in Syria, Hafez al-Assad had pulled off a stunning feat, turning a once-rebellious republic into a monarchy in all but name and bequeathing it to one of his sons.

***

These rulers hadn’t descended from the sky. They had emerged out of the Arab world’s sins of omission and commission. Today’s rebellions are animated, above all, by a desire to be cleansed of the stain and the guilt of having given in to the despots for so long. Elias Canetti gave this phenomenon its timeless treatment in his 1960 book “Crowds and Power.” A crowd comes together, he reminded us, to expiate its guilt, to be done, in the presence of others, with old sins and failures.

There is no marker, no dividing line, that establishes with a precision when and why the Arab people grew weary of the dictators. To the extent that such tremendous ruptures can be pinned down, this rebellion was an inevitable response to the stagnation of the Arab economies. The so-called youth bulge made for a combustible background; a new generation with knowledge of the world beyond came into its own.

Then, too, the legends of Arab nationalism that had sustained two generations had expired. Younger men and women had wearied of the old obsession with Palestine. The revolution was waiting to happen, and one deed of despair in Tunisia, a street vendor who out of frustration set himself on fire, pushed the old order over the brink.

And so, in those big, public spaces in Tunis, Cairo and Manama, Bahrain, in the Libyan cities of Benghazi and Tobruk, millions of Arabs came together to bid farewell to an age of quiescence. They were done with the politics of fear and silence.

Every day and every gathering, broadcast to the world, offered its own memorable image. In Cairo, a girl of 6 or 7 rode her skateboard waving the flag of her country. In Tobruk, a young boy, atop the shoulders of a man most likely his father, held a placard and a message for Colonel Qaddafi: “Irhall, irhall, ya saffah.” (“Be gone, be gone, O butcher.”)

In this tumult, I was struck by the chasm between the incoherence of the rulers and the poise of the many who wanted the outside world to bear witness. A Libyan of early middle age, a professional and a diabetic, was proud to speak on camera, to show his face, in a discussion with CNN’s Anderson Cooper. He was a new man, he said, free of fear for the first time, and he beheld the future with confidence. The precision in his diction was a stark contrast to Colonel Qadaffi’s rambling TV address on Tuesday that blamed the “Arab media” for his ills and called on Libyans to “prepare to defend petrol.”

In the tyrant’s shadow, unknown to him and to the killers and cronies around him, a moral clarity had come to ordinary men and women. They were not worried that a secular tyranny would be replaced by a theocracy; the specter of an “Islamic emirate” invoked by the dictator did not paralyze or terrify them.

***

There is no overstating the importance of the fact that these Arab revolutions are the works of the Arabs themselves. No foreign gunboats were coming to the rescue, the cause of their emancipation would stand or fall on its own. Intuitively, these protesters understood that the rulers had been sly, that they had convinced the Western democracies that it was either the tyrants’ writ or the prospect of mayhem and chaos.

So now, emancipated from the prison, they will make their own world and commit their own errors. The closest historical analogy is the revolutions of 1848, the Springtime of the People in Europe. That revolution erupted in France, then hit the Italian states and German principalities, and eventually reached the remote outposts of the Austrian empire. Some 50 local and national uprisings, all in the name of liberty.

Massimo d’Azeglio, a Piedmontese aristocrat who was energized by the spirit of those times, wrote what for me are the most arresting words about liberty’s promise and its perils: “The gift of liberty is like that of a horse, handsome, strong and high-spirited. In some it arouses a wish to ride; in many others, on the contrary, it increases the urge to walk.” For decades, Arabs walked and cowered in fear. Now they seem eager to take freedom’s ride. Wisely, they are paying no heed to those who wish to speak to them of liberty’s risks.

Fouad Ajami, a professor at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies and a senior fellow at the Hoover Institution, is the author of “The Foreigner’s Gift: The Americans, the Arabs and the Iraqis in Iraq.”


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