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WHO RULES: THE ISRAEL LOBBY
OR UNCLE SAM?
The answer
at last! Uri Avnery, former Knesset member, assesses the Lobby's
power. "If the Israeli government wanted a law tomorrow
annulling the 10 Commandments, 95 U.S. Senators (at least) would
sign the bill forthwith." But, yes, in the end the dog wags
the tail.Fifty
years ago Allen Ginsberg's "Howl" blew the cobwebs
out of millions of young minds and drove a stake through the
heart of Eisenhower's America. Lenni Brenner remembers Ginsberg
in the East Village.Dr Mengele died in exile, in disguise. Dr Ishii
died rich and recognized, in his own Tokyo home. Christopher
Reed on Japanese WW2 medical tortures and how the U.S. covered
them up.CounterPunch
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as an alternative and newly
needed declaration
of independence from a government not representative
governing from inside instead
a textual unfolding as a form of footpath
that's personal and fluid
spoken as that and in its unfolding
in short paragraphs
not that as a form of heirarchy
not socially distributed as power feeding into a chain of command
something which moves inward from scattered far reaches so spoken
and that being personal
it gets distributed
it gets distributed amongst
friends
it gets distributed socially
what is a response to something otherwise unseen by another
but so what it gets anyway spoken
and conjures an own inner mexico
and conjures an own inner antinomy
urn worn uranium warn and a
terminal bureaucratic collapse
where (am) I (am) witness to an internal relation between external
possibilities
Diffused light engaged in
Furious futile battle with
Falling night's absolute clarity
Time offered no help
Space closed abstract doors
Motion itself stood still
My parents vanished in
dark woods failed to
prepare me for obscurity
I complained
Of their
Ignorance of
zen Buddhism
My ancestors approached the
Inevitable the logical with
fear not the rage
of an impotent poet
Banalities backed by
References to Torah
Hardly filled me
with organic harmony
I began my trek
A frantic pale salmon
swimming upriver without
a reproductive mission
I refuse to admit
The fading of flight
glaucoma pressure under control
agony of the evening
advil for aching bones
come to terms I
whisper to myself with
sensations of overwhelming loneliness
children chatter friends banter
Have I miles to go?
Not kept some promises?
I own no woods
Nor forks in roads
I pay less at the
Movies act grouchy frequently
Lose patience peeing refuse
To admit I'm tired
Much of the Time
Am I in touch
With my soul a
carpenter's much pounded nail
Buried somewhere in a
Disagreeable mysterious wrinkled arena?
Saul Landau is the author of The Business of
America.
An Imagined Painting
By ROBERT DAVIES
In so many Medieval paintings
you see an infant
too large, but it is the Infant Jesus
the artist shows in proportion to his importance.
And in this, my imagined painting you see
that the men have engorged phalluses with arrow heads
the women, vaginas of huge hearts.
A circle of young women and
one of men step
in opposite directions, in the foreground
and background pairs of young women and pairs of men
step variously outside the rings,
no group looking at the others.
I title this work " Pains of Adolescence."
Frank Ford among bloated vehicles in Florida.
He can be reached at: frank_b_ford@yahoo.com
The Star-Spamgled Banner El Himno Multi-Nacional * automatically translated by Mort Subiet
Oh, say can you see them by
the first light of the trowel,
so proudly we hailed, while flashing the last of twilight?
Who strips and brightens stars by dangerous fight,
O'er the ramparts, which we courageously watched?
And the red fulgor that rockets pumps exploding in air,
gave testimony that our opinion building flag was there.
Oh, that flag still star-spangled banner undulates
Óer the Earth of freedom and abode of the brave.
In the coast seen dimly through
fog of the deep one,
where the host of foe in the silence of dread reposes,
that he is in the breeze, to o'er steep the high one,
because it establishes fitfully, hides, and half divulges?
Now it stops gleaming in the first beam of the morning,
in full glory reflected, and shinning down the stream:
Tis the studded-star-spangled flag that can wave
O'er the land of freedom and the rest of the brave.
And where is that bandage that
so vauntingly swore
that damage of the war and the confusion of the battle,
home and country must leave us not more?
Washed outside the contamination of its revolting steps.
Nor refuge save the terror of flight or gloom of the tomb:
And the flag star-spangled in triumph will be shaking
Óer the Earth of triumph and home of the brave.
Oh! thus it is when freemen
are between the lands
waters and desolations of the war! Blest victory peace,
heaven-saved compliment hath power in the fêz
and preserved as a nation.
It conquers us when our cause is a joust,
this our motto: "in the God of our confidence"
that the flag's star-spangled triumph will wave
O'er the land of freedom and the rest of the brave.
Mort Subiet's art work can be seen at the Third
Page.
MEme
By ADAM ENGEL
MEme multiples of me myself waiting
me meat me
consumed by
ME-Tu-Mor-Us
Arachno-ME
ME
me meat descendant of cells
in love
divided me
meat me
Calvinist Consumerist Machine
Me-Tu-Mor ME
forced upon meat me
MEdia stealth bomb
missiles ME Aggregate,
ME-Tu-Mor-Us
mea culpa, mea culpa
I've never been inside ME
but I hear ME-Tu-Mor-Us grows
hair and teeth, within,
eyes even, to outlive
Body Politic
our common host
benevolent, poisoned provider
MEme pumped into
music, viddy Oh
language barbs
wired with grammar
hologram MEme Body Politic
and me
surrounded by massive
ME-Tu-Mor-I
(possessed of all rights and privileges of
single natural individual cells)
out for LIFE: hungry, feasting on
Body Politic, poisoned provider,
and the me that hates ME in the mourning
loss of me to Me
Time erase memories of me
in Time
me makes me ME
ME-Tu-Mor-I
mea culpa
goose-stepping yes-ME
BODY POLITIC
loaned from Time
ME equates me with neighbors
relatives tax-payers
of ME immortal
oh poor me (the name I call myself)
40 years without narrative;
scenes of mere being;
while omnipotent move-forward ME
made History linear
Time Mistory
poor secondary me recalls:
girls and music, grass and sunlight
me young mortal me
dissipate scatter
sentimental meat me
of the dead skin sunburn
soon consumed by
ME immortal
locked in the Tu-Mor-Nacle
cells within CELLS
expendable
billions of me for ME conglomerate of me's believe they're not
a billion me's
at all but one omnipotent, immortal ME
continue murderous march of
slaughter devour death disperse
till nothing left of MEme
but ME
you're in a mood
now and of course
it is something
I"ve done
can we work this out?
can we just move on?
I will not change
nor make choices
I am only me
you will show
how you give
and I take
you will threaten
that our time
has run out
and hurl accusations
but I can bear that
it's what I do now
what I've learned
your love was safe
I never thought
we could come
to such a state
there was an eternity
but now you make
demands I cannot
comprehend
have you gone mad?
I only want
to hold you close
to never let go
sometimes I think
you make too much
of things
I never said
I was perfect
I am only me
your lover
please
be nice
Peter Buknatski lives in Montpelier, Vt (over 10 Billion
Candles Sold!--And Counting!). He can be reached at: pbuknatski@yahoo.com
What a Wonderful World
By JACKSON THOREAU
With apologies to Sam Cooke.
Don't know much 'bout hist'ry,
Don't know much fer'n policy,
Don't know much 'bout the troops who died,
Don't know why it matters that I lied.
But I do know who has paid my way,
For corp'rate int'rests and the NRA,
What a wonderful world this will be.
Don't know much 'bout the Patriot
Act,
Don't know much 'bout Iran and Iraq,
Don't know much 'bout prison abuse,
In Texas we just used a noose.
But there's one thing that I know f'sure,
If the rich stay rich and po' stay po',
What a wonderful world this will be.
I never claimed to be an A
student,
But I don't have to be,
If you have deep pockets and sell NU-KU-LAR rockets
You're a friend of my famileeeeeeeeee...
Don't know much 'bout air pollution,
Don't know much 'bout the Constitution,
Don't care much for solar energy,
There's nothing in it for m'friends and me.
And if we can't find any on our serl
We can go to war and get more earl,
And what a wonderful world this will be.
Don't know much 'bout the public
schools,
Don't know much 'bout playing by the rules,
Don't know why the inner cities fail,
Why can't folks get Dad to pay for Yale?
And if my cheating that is causing you to lose
Is never covered by the ev'nin' news,
What a wonderful world this will be.
I never claimed to be an A
student,
But I don't have to be,
If you have a broda who's Flor'da guv'na,
The result's no mystereeeeeeee.
Don't know much 'bout being
a uniter,
Don't know much 'bout that big jet fighter,
Don't know 'bout paying a debt,
I ne'er had to pay one yet.
But if I control voting machines,
I will reach my empire dreams,
And what a wonderful world this will beeeeeeeeee..
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