After seeing this beautiful sunset yesterday, today we played music near home in Coín, in our freinds´hotel, El Palomar. Played celtic tunes, jammed and had a thoroughly enjoyable time! The swimming pool was soo cold, but great after you warmed up.
Had an amazing time at the lakes and skimmed stones and saw a beautifull sunset el chorro and ardarles lakes . Nice!
Lunch time today (Wednesday), No Borders South Wales will be having one of
their regular pickets of the UK Border Agency offices at 31-33 Newport Road,
Cardiff.
These are the offices where people made the decision to deport Ama Sumani
to her death, who tried to deport Kemi and Taiwo and their baby, who has
put Jean Pierre in detention, who refused Babi Badalov the right to
remain, where the snatch squads leave from, where local asylum seekers
have to sign and are treated like criminals.
Starts at 12 noon and only lasts an hour. More details:
http://noborderswales.wordpress.com/2008/08/17/protest-this-wednesday/
I&R is the campaign for direct democracy in Britain, it is independent of political parties but states that it can help people wishing to attain a plebiscite (referendum). It is certainly worth investigating the website let me know what you think.
Following on from the Guardian article about the terrible torture and beatings of the activists in Genoa in 2001, i thought i would also comment on the fingerprinting of the Roma in Italy and the public ignoring the deaths of two Roma children on a popular Naples beach last month. These two things show us that fascism is alive and growing and we need to be ever vigilant and show them that we will not allow this.
This year i have heard concerns voiced in many different groups that many activists might not want to go to the 09 ANTI G8 protests, but i am not to worried as most people i have spoken to have stated that the repressive behaviour by police in Genoa only makes people more determined not to be frightened off by the fascist bully boys.
According to the Wombles:
"The mobilisation to Italy will have to find a way of dealing with the memories of the days and nights in Genoa. It is to be expected that a number of activists will not partcipate in the G8 protests in Italy because of their experiences with Italian police and the Carabinieri (or because of what they heard about them from friends).
Many are traumatised since then; perhaps one could even generalise this for the movements of the "summer of resistance" in Gothenburg and Genoa 2001. With such traumatisation, however, police repression would have reached one of its goal: the prevention of protest.
One of the possible strategies for overcoming the trauma is to remember and re-tell the story. A mobilisation against militarised European external and internal politics could link the role of the paramilitary Carabinieri in Genoa with their current integration into the "European Security Architecture" (Frontex, EGF).
It is quite likely that by 2009 not all the main trials of the G8 summit protests in Genoa will be concluded. Prosecuted activists are in the process of appealing. Supposedly, the publicity work for these trials will be integrated in the mobilisation for 2009."
We need to go to the G8 and look after each other and show them that they can beat us they can torture us but they can never stop us loving each other protecting each other and shouting that we will not live by their fascist laws and we will not ever give in.
I was just thinking these thoughts this when i saw this quote from Hunter S. Thomson i wish i had the courage to speak so openly about my life as he did maybe one day i will.
"We are turning into a nation of whimpering slaves to Fear—fear of war, fear of poverty, fear of random terrorism, fear of getting down-sized or fired because of the plunging economy, fear of getting evicted for bad debts or suddenly getting locked up in a military detention camp on vague charges of being a Terrorist sympathizer."
—"Extreme Behavior in Aspen," February 3, 2003 Hunter S. Thompson
Activists take site for the Camp for Climate Action and reveal location
100 people entered and secured an uncultivated field at Deansgate Ridge at 3.00pm today, only 1 km from Kingsnorth Power Station. They erected and climbed tripods to prevent police from moving them and have erected a marquee alongside a banner which reads ‘No New Coal’.
Although the climate camp activists have been upfront and open about most aspects of their plans, the location of the camp had not been revealed until today in order to prevent E.ON and the police from attempting to stop it from happening. The uncultivated field is on a road that runs
between Hoo St Werburgh and High Halstow. The Camp for Climate Action intends to return the field in two weeks in as good, if not better, condition than it was found.
Around 20 sheep were in the field when it was occupied. They have been rounded up and are being taken care of with food and water.
The camp, which is due to officially start on Sunday, 3 August, is expected to attract thousands of people coming from all over the UK. The week long camp hosts hundreds of workshops on sustainable living and the politics of climate change. The camp will culminate on Saturday 9 August
in a mass direct action to shut down Kingsnorth power station on protest over E.ON’s plans to build the first new coal-fired power station in the UK for 33 years.
“We want to warmly invite people from the local community to come down and see for themselves what the camp is all about,” said Terry Graves, who has already pitched his tent up in the field.
“E.ON and the government believe that you can have endless fossil-fuelled economic growth in a world of finite resources,” said Christina Greensford, who helped to secure the camp. “People from all over the UK are here to create a democratic, low-carbon society in which our long term
future on this planet is prioritised over the short term profit margins of the fossil fuel industry.”
“We have a future to protect, and today, in setting up the climate camp, we’ve drawn a line in the sand at Kingsnorth.” said Hannah Abbots. “We will not allow companies like E.ON drag us over the edge of climate
catastrophe.”
Press can contact Conor O’Brian at 07530 306267 who is on site and arrange interviews, either over the phone or on the perimeter of the site.
Press can also contact the media team, who are not currently on site, at 07772 861 099
A press advisory will be shortly issued giving information as to when the first media tours of the camp will take place.
Check this guy out (especially you Sel). mr1001nights
This guardian article is brilliant! WARNING! it will upset you! (and hopefully make you angry)
click title of this post to link to Guardian website with pictures.
Nick Davies G2 Thursday July 17th 2008
Lying on his face in the dark, bruised and scared, he was aware of police all around him, massing to attack the Diaz Pertini school building where 93 young demonstrators were bedding down on the floor for the night. Covell's best hope was that they would break through the chain around the front gates without paying him any more attention. If that happened, he could get up and limp across the street to the safety of the Indymedia centre, where he had spent the past three days filing reports on the G8 summit and on its violent policing.
It was at that moment that a police officer sauntered over to him and kicked him in the chest with such force that the entire lefthand side of his rib cage caved in, breaking half-a-dozen ribs whose splintered ends then shredded the membrane of his left lung. Covell, who is 5ft 8in and weighs less than eight stone, was lifted off the pavement and sent flying into the street. He heard the policeman laugh. The thought formed in Covell's mind: "I'm not going to make it."
The riot squad were still struggling with the gate, so a group of officers occupied the time by strolling over to use Covell as a football. This bout of kicking broke his left hand and damaged his spine. From somewhere behind him, Covell heard an officer shout that this was enough - "Basta! Basta!" - and he felt his body being dragged back on to the pavement.
Now, an armoured police van broke through the school gates and 150 police officers, most wearing crash helmets and carrying truncheons and shields, poured into the defenceless building. Two officers stopped to deal with Covell: one cracked him round the head with his baton; the other kicked him several times in the mouth, knocking out a dozen teeth. Covell passed out.
There are several good reasons why we should not forget what happened to Covell, then aged 33, that night in Genoa. The first is that he was only the beginning. By midnight on July 21 2001, those police officers were swarming through all four floors of the Diaz Pertini building, dispensing their special kind of discipline to its occupants, reducing the makeshift dormitories to what one officer later described as "a Mexican butcher's shop". They and their colleagues then illegally incarcerated their victims in a detention centre, which became a place of dark terror.
The second is that, seven years later, Covell and his fellow victims are still waiting for justice. On Monday, 15 police, prison guards and prison medics finally were convicted for their part in the violence - although it emerged yesterday that none of them would actually serve prison terms. In Italy, defendants don't go to jail until they have exhausted the appeals process; and in this case, the convictions and sentences will be wiped out by a statute of limitations next year. Meanwhile, the politicians who were responsible for the police, prison guards and prison medics have never had to explain themselves. Fundamental questions about why this happened remain unanswered - and they hint at the third and most important reason for remembering Genoa. This is not simply the story of law officers running riot, but of something uglier and more worrying beneath the surface.
The fact that this story can be told at all is testament to seven years of hard work, led by a dedicated and courageous public prosecutor, Emilio Zucca. Helped by Covell as well as his own staff, Zucca has gathered hundreds of witness statements and analysed 5,000 hours of video as well as thousands of photographs. Pieced together, they tell an irrefutable tale, which began to unfold as Covell lay bleeding on the ground.
The police poured into the Diaz Pertini school. Some of them were shouting "Black Bloc! We're going to kill you," but if they genuinely believed they were confronting the notorious Black Bloc of anarchists who had caused violent mayhem in parts of the city during demonstrations earlier in the day, they were mistaken. The school had been provided by the Genoa city council as a base for demonstrators who had nothing to do with the anarchists: they had even posted guards to make sure that none of them came in.
One of the first to see the riot squad bursting in was Michael Gieser, a 35-year-old Belgian economist, who subsequently described how he had just changed into his pyjamas and was queuing for the bathroom with his toothbrush in his hand when the raid began. Gieser believes in the power of dialogue and, at first, he walked towards them saying, "We need to talk." He saw the padded jackets, the riot clubs, the helmets and the bandanas concealing the policemen's faces, changed his mind and ran up the stairs to escape.
Others were slower. They were still in their sleeping bags. A group of 10 Spanish friends in the middle of the hall woke up to find themselves being battered with truncheons. They raised their hands in surrender. More officers piled in to beat their heads, cutting and bruising and breaking limbs, including the arm of a 65-year-old woman. At the side of the room, several young people were sitting at computers, sending emails home. One of them was Melanie Jonasch, a 28-year-old archaeology student from Berlin, who had volunteered to help out in the building and had not even been on a demonstration.
She still cannot remember what happened. But numerous other witnesses have described how officers set upon her, beating her head so hard with their sticks that she rapidly lost consciousness. When she fell to the ground, officers circled her, beating and kicking her limp body, banging her head against a near-by cupboard, leaving her finally in a pool of blood. Katherina Ottoway, who saw this happen, recalled: "She was trembling all over. Her eyes were open but upturned. I thought she was dying, that she could not survive this."
None of those who stayed on the ground floor escaped injury. As Zucca later put it in his prosecution report: "In the space of a few minutes, all the occupants on the ground floor had been reduced to complete helplessness, the groans of the wounded mingling with the sound of calls for an ambulance." In their fear, some victims lost control of their bowels. Then the officers of the law moved up the stairs. In the first-floor corridor they found a small group, including Gieser, still clutching his toothbrush: "Someone suggested lying down, to show there was no resistance. So I did. The police arrived and began beating us, one by one. I protected my head with my hands. I thought, 'I must survive.' People were shouting, 'Please stop.' I said the same thing ... It made me think of a pork butchery. We were being treated like animals, like pigs."
Officers broke down doors to the rooms leading off the corridors. In one, they found Dan McQuillan and Norman Blair, who had flown in from Stansted to show their support for, as McQuillan put it, "a free and equal society with people living in harmony with each other". The two Englishmen and their friend from New Zealand, Sam Buchanan, had heard the police attack on the ground floor and had tried to hide their bags and themselves under some tables in the corner of the dark room. A dozen officers broke in, caught them in a spotlight and, even as McQuillan stood up with his hands raised saying, "Take it easy, take it easy," they battered them into submission, inflicting numerous cuts and bruises and breaking McQuillan's wrist. Norman Blair recalled: "I could feel the venom and hatred from them."
Gieser was out in the corridor: "The scene around me was covered in blood, everywhere. A policeman shouted 'Basta!'. This word was like a window of hope. I understood it meant 'enough'. And yet they didn't stop. They continued with pleasure. In the end, they did stop, but it was like taking a toy away from a child, against their will."
By now, there were police officers on all four floors of the building, kicking and battering. Several victims describe a sort of system to the violence, with each officer beating each person he came across, then moving on to the next victim while his colleague moved up to continue beating the first. It seemed important that everybody must be hurt. Nicola Doherty, 26, a care worker from London, later described how her partner, Richard Moth, lay across her to protect her: "I could just hear blow after blow on his body. The police were also leaning over Rich so they could hit the parts of my body which were exposed." She tried to cover her head with her arm: they broke her wrist.
In one corridor, they ordered a group of young men and women to kneel, the easier to batter them around the head and shoulders. This was where Daniel Albrecht, a 21-year-old cello student from Berlin, had his head beaten so badly that he needed surgery to stop bleeding in his brain. Around the building, officers flipped their batons around, gripping the far end and using the right-angled handle as a hammer.
And in among this relentless violence, there were moments when the police preferred humiliation: the officer who stood spread-legged in front of a kneeling and injured woman, grabbed his groin and thrust it into her face before turning to do the same to Daniel Albrecht kneeling beside her; the officer who paused amid the beatings and took a knife to cut off hair from his victims, including Nicola Doherty; the constant shouting of insults; the officer who asked a group if they were OK and who reacted to the one who said "No" by handing out an extra beating.
A few escaped, at least for a while. Karl Boro made it up on to the roof but then made the mistake of coming back into the building, where he was treated to heavy bruising to his arms and legs, a fractured skull, and bleeding in his chest cavity. Jaraslaw Engel, from Poland, managed to use builders' scaffolding to get out of the school, but he was caught in the street by some police drivers who smashed him over the head, laid him on the ground and stood over him smoking while his blood ran out across the Tarmac.
Two of the last to be caught were a pair of German students, Lena Zuhlke, 24, and her partner Niels Martensen. They had hidden in a cleaners' cupboard on the top floor. They heard the police approaching, drumming their batons against the walls of the stairs. The cupboard door came open, Martensen was dragged out and beaten by a dozen officers standing in a semicircle around him. Zuhlke ran across the corridor and hid in the loo. Police officers saw her and followed her and dragged her out by her dreadlocks.
In the corridor, they set about her like dogs on a rabbit. She was beaten around the head then kicked from all sides on the floor, where she felt her rib cage collapsing. She was hauled up against the wall where one officer kneed her in the groin while others carried on lashing her with their batons. She slid down the wall and they hit her more on the ground: "They seemed to be enjoying themselves and, when I cried out in pain, it seemed to give them even more pleasure."
Police officers found a fire extinguisher and squirted its foam into Martensen's wounds. His partner was dragged by her hair and tossed down the stairs head-first. Eventually, they dragged Zuhlke into the ground-floor hall, where they had gathered dozens of prisoners from all over the building in a mess of blood and excrement. They threw her on top of two other people. They were not moving, and Zuhlke drowsily asked them if they were alive. They did not reply, and she lay there on her back, unable to move her right arm, unable to stop her left arm and her legs twitching, blood seeping out of her head wounds. A group of police officers walked by, and each one lifted the bandana which concealed his identity, leaned down and spat on her face.
Why would law officers behave with such contempt for the law? The simple answer may be the one which was soon being chanted outside the school building by sympathetic demonstrators who chose a word which they knew the police would understand: "Bastardi! Bastardi!" But something else was happening here - something that emerged more clearly over the next few days.
Covell and dozens of other victims of the raid were taken to the San Martino hospital, where police officers walked up and down the corridors, slapping their clubs into the palms of their hands, ordering the injured not to move around or look out of the window, keeping handcuffs on many of them and then, often with injuries still untended, shipping them across the city to join scores of others, from the Diaz school and from the street demonstrations, detained at the detention centre in the city's Bolzaneto district.
The signs of something uglier here were apparent first in superficial ways. Some officers had traditional fascist songs as ringtones on their mobile phones and talked enthusiastically about Mussolini and Pinochet. Repeatedly, they ordered prisoners to say "Viva il duce." Sometimes, they used threats to force them to sing fascist songs: "Un, due, tre. Viva Pinochet!"
The 222 people who were held at Bolzaneto were treated to a regime later described by public prosecutors as torture. On arrival, they were marked with felt-tip crosses on each cheek, and many were forced to walk between two parallel lines of officers who kicked and beat them. Most were herded into large cells, holding up to 30 people. Here, they were forced to stand for long periods, facing the wall with their hands up high and their legs spread. Those who failed to hold the position were shouted at, slapped and beaten. Mohammed Tabach has an artificial leg and, unable to hold the stress position, collapsed and was rewarded with two bursts of pepper spray in his face and, later, a particularly savage beating. Norman Blair later recalled standing like this and a guard asking him "Who is your government?" "The person before me had answered 'Polizei', so I said the same. I was afraid of being beaten."
Stefan Bauer dared to answer back: when a German-speaking guard asked where he was from, he said he was from the European Union and he had the right to go where he wanted. He was hauled out, beaten, given a face full of pepper spray, stripped naked and put under a cold shower. His clothes were taken away and he was returned to the freezing cell wearing only a flimsy hospital gown.
Shivering on the cold marble floors of the cells, the detainees were given few or no blankets, kept awake by guards, given little or no food and denied their statutory right to make phone calls and see a lawyer. They could hear crying and screaming from other cells.
Men and women with dreadlocks had their hair roughly cut off to the scalp. Marco Bistacchia was taken to an office, stripped naked, made to get down on all fours and told to bark like a dog and to shout "Viva la polizia Italiana!" He was sobbing too much to obey. An unnamed officer told the Italian newspaper La Repubblica that he had seen brother officers urinating on prisoners and beating them for refusing to sing Faccetta Nera, a Mussolini-era fascist song.
Ester Percivati, a young Turkish woman, recalled guards calling her a whore as she was marched to the toilet, where a woman officer forced her head down into the bowl and a male jeered "Nice arse! Would you like a truncheon up it?" Several women reported threats of rape, anal and vaginal.
Even the infirmary was dangerous. Richard Moth, covered in cuts and bruises after lying on top of his partner, was given stitches in his head and legs without anaesthetic - "an extremely painful and disturbing experience. I had to be held down." Prison medical staff were among those convicted of abuse on Monday.
All agree that this was not an attempt to get the detainees to talk, simply an exercise in creating fear. And it worked. In statements, prisoners later described their feeling of helplessness, of being cut off from the rest of the world in a place where there was no law and no rules. Indeed, the police forced their captives to sign statements, waiving all their legal rights. One man, David Larroquelle, testified that he refused and had three of his ribs broken. Percivati also refused and her face was slammed into the office wall, breaking her glasses and making her nose bleed.
The outside world was treated to some severely distorted accounts of all this. Lying in San Martino hospital the day after his beating, Covell came round to find his shoulder being shaken by a woman who, he understood, was from the British embassy. It was only when the man with her started taking photographs that he realised she was a reporter, from the Daily Mail. Its front page the next day ran an entirely false report describing him as having helped mastermind the riots. (Four long years later, the Mail eventually apologised and paid Covell damages for invasion of privacy.)
While his citizens were being beaten and tormented in illegal detention, spokesmen for the then prime minister, Tony Blair, declared: "The Italian police had a difficult job to do. The prime minister believes that they did that job."
The Italian police themselves fed the media with a rich diet of falsehood. Even as the bloody bodies were being carried out of the Diaz Pertini building on stretchers, police were telling reporters that the ambulances lined up in the street were nothing to do with the raid, and/or that the very obviously fresh injuries were old, and that the building had been full of violent extremists who had attacked officers.
The next day, senior officers held a press conference at which they announced that everybody in the building would be charged with aggressive resistance to arrest and conspiracy to cause destruction. In the event, the Italian courts dismissed every single attempted charge against every single person. That included Covell. Police attempts to charge him with a string of very serious offences were described by the public prosecutor, Enrico Zucca, as "grotesque".
At the same press conference, police displayed an array of what they described as weaponry. This included crowbars, hammers and nails which they themselves had taken from a builder's store next to the school; aluminium rucksack frames, which they presented as offensive weapons; 17 cameras; 13 pairs of swimming goggles; 10 pen-knives; and a bottle of sun-tan lotion. They also displayed two Molotov cocktails which, Zucca later concluded, had been found by police earlier in the day in another part of the city and planted in the Diaz Pertini building as the raid ended.
This public dishonesty was part of a wider effort to cover up what had happened. On the night of the raid, a force of 59 police entered the building opposite the Diaz Pertini, where Covell and others had been running their Indymedia centre and where, crucially, a group of lawyers had been based, gathering evidence about police attacks on the earlier demonstrations. Officers went into the lawyers' room, threatened the occupants, smashed their computers and seized hard drives. They also removed anything containing photographs or video tape.
With the courts refusing to charge the detainees, the police secured an order to deport all of them from the country, banning them from returning for five years. Thus, the witnesses were removed from the scene. Like the attempted charges, all the deportation orders were subsequently dismissed as illegal by the courts.
Zucca then fought his way through years of denial and obfuscation. In his formal report, he recorded that all the senior officers involved were denying playing any part: "Not a single official has confessed to holding a substantial command role in any aspects of the operation." One senior officer who was videoed at the scene explained that he was off duty and had just turned up to make sure his men were not being injured. Police statements were themselves changeable and contradictory, and were overwhelmingly contradicted by the evidence of victims and numerous videos: "Not a single one of the 150 officers reportedly present has provided precise information regarding an individual episode."
Without Zucca, without the robust stance of the Italian courts, without Covell's intensive work assembling video records of the Diaz raid, the police might well have evaded responsibility and secured false charges and prison sentences against scores of their victims. Apart from the Bolzaneto trial which finished on Monday, 28 other officers, some very senior, are on trial for their part in the Diaz raid. And yet, justice has been compromised.
No Italian politician has been brought to book, in spite of the strong suggestion that the police acted as though somebody had promised them impunity. One minister visited Bolzaneto while the detainees were being mistreated and apparently saw nothing or, at least, saw nothing he thought he should stop. Another, Gianfranco Fini, former national secretary of the neo-fascist MSI party and the then deputy prime minister, was - according to media reports at the time - in police headquarters. He has never been required to explain what orders he gave.
Most of the several hundred law officers involved in Diaz and Bolzaneto have escaped without any discipline or criminal charge. None has been suspended; some have been promoted. None of the officers who were tried over Bolzaneto has been charged with torture - Italian law does not recognise the offence. Some senior officers who were originally going to be charged over the Diaz raid escaped trial because Zucca was simply unable to prove that a chain of command existed. Even now, the trial of the 28 officers who have been charged is in jeopardy because the prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi, is pushing through legislation to delay all trials dealing with events that occurred before June 2002. Nobody has been charged with the violence inflicted on Covell. And as one of the victims' lawyers, Massimo Pastore, put it: "Nobody wants to listen to what this story has to say."
That is about fascism. There are plenty of rumours that the police and carabinieri and prison staff belonged to fascist groups, but no evidence to support that. Pastore argues that that misses the bigger point: "It is not just a matter of a few drunken fascists. This is mass behaviour by the police. No one said 'No.' This is a culture of fascism." At its heart, this involved what Zucca described in his report as "a situation in which every rule of law appears to have been suspended."
Fifty-two days after the attack on the Diaz school, 19 men used planes full of passengers as flying bombs and shifted the bedrock of assumptions on which western democracies had based their business. Since then, politicians who would never describe themselves as fascists have allowed the mass tapping of telephones and monitoring of emails, detention without trial, systematic torture, the calibrated drowning of detainees, unlimited house arrest and the targeted killing of suspects, while the procedure of extradition has been replaced by "extraordinary rendition". This isn't fascism with jack-booted dictators with foam on their lips. It's the pragmatism of nicely turned-out politicians. But the result looks very similar. Genoa tells us that when the state feels threatened, the rule of law can be suspended. Anywhere."
Recently i have been reading a book called HIGH-RISE By JG BALLARD where the inhabitants of a luxury high rise block of flats started violent clan wars due to a breakdown in the functioning of the buildings systems. Instead of working together to fix the systems they live in squalor not even blaming the buildings managers but blaming those from lower or upper floors.
I like Scott's deffinition and although it by no means explains what anarchism is fully, it does go about adressing the commonly held misbeliefs about anarchism.
"Anarchism is the belief in no government. Anarchist's do NOT support or like violence or coercion. In fact, bydefinition, anarchists are diametrically opposed to offensive violence and coercion. To an anarchist, at least, the words 'governance' and 'government' refer to offensive coercion and institutions thereof. Anarchists are adamantly opposed to the use of force, coercion, or violence against innocent people. Anarchists oppose any use of offensive violence, offensive coercion, offensive force, etc. Accordingly, by definition, anarchists strongly oppose rape, murder, assault, theft and the like.
Like most people, most anarchists have no problem with solely defensive uses of force/coercion. Most people do not consider self-defensive uses of force to be governmental. Malcolm X said, "I don't call it violence when it's self-defense; I call it intelligence." However, most anarchists reject the 'collateral damage' excuse, which terrorists and war-mongers use to claim that the harming of innocent people and civilians can fall under 'defense'.
Anarchists want smaller government, and ideally no government. Henry David Thoreau put it best when he said:
"I heartily accept the motto, 'That government is best which governs least'; and I should like to see it acted up to more rapidly and systematically. Carried out, it finally amounts to this, which also I believe--'That government is best which governs not at all'; and when men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of government which the will have."
Anarchists oppose theft, and thus anarchists oppose taxation. Anarchists oppose kidnapping, thus anarchists oppose the jailing of people for "victimless crimes", such as drug use, prostitution, gun-ownership, or flag-burning. Anarchists oppose murder, and thus anarchists oppose war (insofar as innocent people, a.k.a. civilians, are killed)."
Workhouse was a lovely festival, dancing to The Don Bradmans, and Kaplick and Kilnaboy was most excellent x That was a good litter picking crew i worked with!
Now I'm back i have mostly been making vast quantities of skipped fruit wine nettle and bramble wine and ginger wine and other wines too random and odd to mention. Interestingly it was mostly made in a bath over an open fire so it should be good!!
Also i have been getting in touch with people Ive lost touch with in the vain hope that
i might salvage the scraps of life not spoilt by my reckless not keeping in touch behaviour.
The Manx national plant is Bollan Bane or mugwort and it grows all round my caravan i even wore some on Tynwald day! Now i want to know what to use it for so I'm going to do some research.
I'm also going to go to coed hills and get my mate Joe to teach me how to make and use a pole lathe.
Also this weekend i may try to delve into my subconscious and get into some dodgy hippy stuff!
I'm very happy because i played the bouzouki loads at workhouse towards the end and people didn't think i was shit even Dr Dave Damage who is a percussionist liked it, so my timing must be getting better. So also i plan to practice that a lot and if the weather is nice we shall have Ladies Dance Club, which men can also attend we just like the name, which is basically us teaching each other all the samba, folk and show dancing we know so we have fun and get some exercise, i cannot wait, if the rain will hold off for a few moments.
Capitalism is the astounding belief that the most wickedest of men will do the most wickedest of things for the greatest good of everyone.
~ John Maynard Keynes
The nationalist not only does not disapprove of atrocities committed by his own side, but he has a remarkable capacity for not even hearing about them.
~ George Orwell
The enemy is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he is on.
~ Joseph Heller
It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets.
~ Voltaire
I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do because I notice it always coincides with their own desires.
~ Susan B. Anthony
~ <|OnAir|>
It makes no difference as to the name of the God, since love is the real God of all in the world.
~ Apache
The enemy is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he is on.
~ Joseph Heller
~ General Douglas MacArthur
Everyone likes to say Hitler did this and Hitler did that. But the truth is Hitler did very little. He was a world class asshole, but the evil actually done, from the death camps to World War Two, was all done by citizens who were afraid to question if what they were told by their government was the truth or not, and who because they did not want to admit to themselves that they were afraid to question the government, refused to see the truth behind the Reichstag Fire, refused to see the invasion by Poland was a staged fake, and followed Hitler into national disaster.~ Michael Rivero
Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys.Of the beasts of the field, and of the fishes of the sea, and of all foods that are acceptable in my sight you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the hoofed animals, broiled or ground into burgers, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cloven-hoofed animal, plain or with cheese, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cereal grains, of the corn and of the wheat and of the oats, and of all the cereals that are of bright color and unknown provenance you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the quiescently frozen dessert and of all frozen after-meal treats you may eat, but absolutely not in the living room. Of the juices and other beverages, yes, even of those in sippy-cups, you may drink, but not in the living room, neither may you carry such therein. Indeed, when you reach the place where the living room carpet begins, of any food or beverage there you may not eat, neither may you drink.
But if you are sick, and are lying down and watching something, then may you eat in the living room.
And if you are seated in your high chair, or in a chair such as a greater person might use, keep your legs and feet below you as they were. Neither raise up your knees, nor place your feet upon the table, for that is an abomination to me. Yes, even when you have an interesting bandage to show, your feet upon the table are an abomination, and worthy of rebuke. Drink your milk as it is given you, neither use on it any utensils, nor fork, nor knife, nor spoon, for that is not what they are for; if you will dip your blocks in the milk, and lick it off, you will be sent away. When you have drunk, let the empty cup then remain upon the table, and do not bite it upon its edge and by your teeth hold it to your face in order to make noises in it sounding like a duck; for you will be sent away.
When you chew your food, keep your mouth closed until you have swallowed, and do not open it to show your brother or your sister what is within; I say to you, do not so, even if your brother or your sister has done the same to you. Eat your food only; do not eat that which is not food; neither seize the table between your jaws, nor use the raiment of the table to wipe your lips. I say again to you, do not touch it, but leave it as it is. And though your stick of carrot does indeed resemble a marker, draw not with it upon the table, even in pretend, for we do not do that, that is why. And though the pieces of broccoli are very like small trees, do not stand them upright to make a forest, because we do not do that, that is why. Sit just as I have told you, and do not lean to one side or the other, nor slide down until you are nearly slid away. Heed me; for if you sit like that, your hair will go into the syrup. And now behold, even as I have said, it has come to pass.
For we judge between the plate that is unclean and the plate that is clean, saying first, if the plate is clean, then you shall have dessert. But of the unclean plate, the laws are these: If you have eaten most of your meat, and two bites of your peas with each bite consisting of not less than three peas each, or in total six peas, eaten where I can see, and you have also eaten enough of your potatoes to fill two forks, both forkfuls eaten where I can see, then you shall have dessert. But if you eat a lesser number of peas, and yet you eat the potatoes, still you shall not have dessert; and if you eat the peas, yet leave the potatoes uneaten, you shall not have dessert, no, not even a small portion thereof. And if you try to deceive by moving the potatoes or peas around with a fork, that it may appear you have eaten what you have not, you will fall into iniquity. And I will know, and you shall have no dessert.
Do not scream; for it is as if you scream all the time. If you are given a plate on which two foods you do not wish to touch each other are touching each other, your voice rises up even to the ceiling, while you point to the offense with the finger of your right hand; but I say to you, scream not, only remonstrate gently with the server, that the server may correct the fault. Likewise if you receive a portion of fish from which every piece of herbal seasoning has not been scraped off, and the herbal seasoning is loathsome to you, and steeped in vileness, again I say, refrain from screaming. Though the vileness overwhelm you, and cause you a faint unto death, make not that sound from within your throat, neither cover your face, nor press your fingers to your nose. For even now I have made the fish as it should be; behold, I eat of it myself, yet do not die.
Cast your countenance upward to the light, and lift your eyes to the hills, that I may more easily wash you off. For the stains are upon you; even to the very back of your head, there is rice hereon. And in the breast pocket of your garment, and upon the tie of your shoe, rice and other fragments are distributed in a manner wonderful to see. Only hold yourself still; hold still, I say. Give each finger in its turn for my examination thereof, and also each thumb. Lo, how iniquitous they appear. What I do is as it must be; and you shall not go hence until I have done.
Bite not, lest you be cast into quiet time. Neither drink of your own bath water, nor of bath water of any kind; nor rub your feet on bread, even if it be in the package; nor rub yourself against cars, nor against any building; nor eat sand.
Leave the cat alone, for what has the cat done, that you should so afflict it with tape? And hum not that humming in your nose as I read, nor stand between the light and the book. Indeed, you will drive me to madness. Nor forget what I said about the tape.
O my children, you are disobedient. For when I tell you what you must do, you argue and dispute hotly even to the littlest detail; and when I do not accede, you cry out, and hit and kick. Yes, and even sometimes do you spit, and shout “stupid-head” and other blasphemies, and hit and kick the wall and the molding thereof when you are sent to the corner. And though the law teaches that no one shall be sent to the corner for more minutes than he has years of age, yet I would leave you there all day, so mighty am I in anger. But upon being sent to the corner you ask straightaway, ”Can I come out?” and I reply, “No, you may not come out.” And again you ask, and again I give the same reply. But when you ask again a third time, then you may come out.
Hear me, O my children, for the bills they kill me. I pay and pay again, even to the twelfth time in a year, and yet again they mount higher than before. For our health, that we may be covered, I give six hundred and twenty talents twelve times in a year; but even this covers not the fifteen hundred deductible for each member of the family within a calendar year. And yet for ordinary visits we still are not covered, nor for many medicines, nor for the teeth within our mouths. Guess not at what rage is in my mind, for surely you cannot know.
For I will come to you at the first of the month and at the fifteenth of the month with the bills and a great whining and moan. And when the month of taxes comes, I will decry the wrong and unfairness of it, and mourn with wine and ashtrays, and rend my receipts. And you shall remember that I am that I am: before, after, and until you are twenty-one. Hear me then, and avoid me in my wrath, O children of me."
STAYED UP TOO LATE TALKING ABOUT POLITICS! SEE HER BLOG IN ACTIVIST LINKS, WE DECIDED TO CLARIFY OUR PRESENT VIEWS ON POLITICS AND EVERYTHING IN OUR RESPECTIVE BLOGS.... SHE WILL TRY TO EXPLAIN HER SOCIALISM AND I WILL TRY TO EXPLAIN MY ANARCHISM OR WHATEVER!! AND WE RECON WE MIGHT COME UP WITH SIMILAR VIEWS JUST USING DIFFERENT LANGUAGE AND MAYBE SOME OTHER DIFFERENCES WE WILL SEE HOW FUN!! nerds!!! blogging nerds!! blogging politiocs nerds!!
Be there and be prepared!!!!! A week or so of Fun, Fucking the System and Feeling good about it .....Yay!!!!!!
Please Help Kemi Ayinde, who is being deported tommorrow. She is ill and pregnant and has a 1 year old son, ring email or fax British Airways and ask to register complaint to British Airways who can dissallow her flight if she is ill, then ask if you can talk to pre-travel and they will get the case reference number, which is 6749851, do it now before its too late!! Also contact the home office on 08706067766
Found this amazing programme that lets you read novels and it looks like a windows desktop and powerpoint presentation check it out :http://www.readatwork.com/
Once upon a time, in a land not very far from here, lived a little girl. The little girls name was Jinny, she had dark hair, dark eyes and pale freckly skin. Her parents brought her up to always think for herself and to question things if she felt they were unfair or wrong. There were two things Jinny liked doing best in the world. One was reading books and the other was climbing trees. 
So all throughout her growing up Jinny kept reading and reading and reading and she spent a lot of time in the tops of trees spending time in nature. There was another very important factor in Jinny's life and that was that the land she was growing up in, the one that is not very far from here, was changing. She kept noticing roads being widened and built, houses being built, but the new houses were not like the houses she was used to. They were row upon row of ugly white soulless boxes spreading as far as the eye could see. By the time Jinny had started to grow up, she had noticed that these houses weren't made very well, were too expensive for hardly anyone to afford, and didn't even have chimneys or fireplaces. "How ever are the people who buy these houses going to keep warm if gas or electricity are not available? thought Jinny. Whenever the roads were widened she noticed it didn't improve the huge traffic jams, it just meant that inevitably loads of lovely mature climbing trees were being chopped down. Jinny started to worry, "Who is really benefiting from the roads being widened and these houses being built? It Is not the people or the land but it must be someone. 
For a while Jinny asked people about this and was told by most, "oh its those foreigners that keep coming here, its all their fault". But Jinny could see that this attitude was not true only the fashionable thing to say and wondered who's fault it really was and what was the motivation. "Who is benefiting?" she wondered, so as she was wont to do she read, and she read, and she read, and became even more worried about the problems in her land, especially about climate change. She knew that people had been talking about the problems for years and realised that they were being ignored because it was in the interest £$ of certain groups or organisations that they be ignored. A lot of large organisations were getting rich quick by using the earth's resources and it wasn't just happening where Jinny lived but that it was happening all over the world. 
Then Jinny noticed that when she got a job in the supermarket she got paid a very small amount of money; that she had to work hours that were inconvenient, and that if she worked for a whole hour she could only afford to buy a coffee and a sandwich with the money she had earned. Now she wondered how it was that an hour of her precious life could only be worth the same as a coffee and a sandwich. Now Jinny was not a particularly greedy girl and knew that her life was easy compared to the lives that most people in the world were having to live, and that she was privileged just to have food and water and shelter but she also realised that the same organisations who were profiting from the destruction of the environment and not paying people much for their work while creaming off vast profits were the same people who were exploiting women and children in other countries, mining diamonds, destroying the rainforests, polluting rivers and generally doing whatever they liked as long as it made them PROFIT! Now Jinny was and always had been very interested in history and she knew from the history books, the way that so called civilization had developed, that there had always been inequalities, and that even though people felt they were free in modern western society, essentially they were still enslaved in maybe a worse way than ever, because they were slaves who believed they were free. They were living within a huge lie. Jinny got to thinking there must be a better way to organise society, or at least her own life, so that she would not be living within a huge lie and making profits for others who do no work, just destroy the world. And she had a think and thought "What is it I really need to live in life and be happy and free?" .. "Well I need:
"So if i can sing, dance, and play music, then ill be happy. So how can I provide those things for myself, what do I need? Well to get food without money I need to grow it, so I need access to land. To get shelter without money, I need wood, so I need access to the woods, the wood can also be used to make heat, so I can have a fire and cook and keep warm and sing and dance round it. Maybe others will want to live that way too and then I will have company and it will make all the jobs easier. " She looked at her list and realised that she needed to have access to some LAND. TO BE CONTINUED ....
Well I'm still glad i went but the weather was terrible,After meeting up with the wicked ladies of the western English traveller community and getting a lift from bath, when i first arrived i could tell where my Kenty friends were by the noise of Dave's sticks and the fact that their drumming actually had a rhythm. After BBC scaremongering about a 10 mile towing away zone we could actually park near. My girly Friends left early and i ended up being kidnapped back to Kent back to the lovely woods again. It was cool though very relaxing. Went to a place called Coldrum stones on Monday a very nice chilled out place which was dug up in Victorian times by archaeologists and used to be a long barrow but now has just exposed stones, Rob Wilson from the druid network wrote this:
"At the foot of the steep slope of the chalky North Downs, li
es a place that holds the stories of the Neolithic Ancestors of the Medway valley. Kent is not known for its prehistoric megaliths, yet here deep in this valley 
where the weald expands beyond to the horizon; sits one of the best preserved long barrows in the south east. It’s a place of immense peace and tranquillity; even the sceptical and insensitive of people never fail to be touched by its presence of serenity. William Borlas in 1754 wrote in his, Antiquities of Cornwall, that Coldrum’s name was believed to have been derived from the Cornish word 'Galdrum', meaning a 'Place of enchantment', whether this is true or pure romanticism, it is a place of enchantment! The Greenwood Grove has developed a sound relationship with the current owners, the National Trust; to the extent where we have become extra eyes and ears for the protection of the site and liaising with the Trust on its use by local pagans. Indeed many other local pagan groups and individuals do the same.
On these pages you can find out about the archaeology and spirit present of this rare gem in Kent’s spiritual crown."
it really is a lovely place the wind was shaking the barley in the next field and it looked like the sea.
Stayed in : "The Screaming Woods
Below Pluckley is a sizeable area of woodland officially named Dering Wood but also known as Smarden Woods. Another portion of the same wood is popularly called 'Fright Wood.' Both are part of the ancient Andredsweald: that stretch of woodland that once ran along almost the entire south east of England. These woods are a haven for wild animals - not least of all foxes and it is the sound of a vixen's scream that has caused many ghost hunters to rename it the Screaming Woods.
Fright Wood is a derivative of Frith - an old English word meaning land that is of poor agricultural quality. There were farmers in the area with the name of Frith in the 1580's, and with Frith Farm nearby it is almost certain that the popularist name of Fright Wood is yet another attempt to give Pluckley yet more status as ghost central for England."
oh Dear the thinkgs i get up to.....
small world Triban festy crew
antics apologies for davs head tattoo its meant to say Kent!!
