Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Subway Secret: Terror in A Tube
by Victor Shanti
The first flush of water from above the subway car, after it pulled away from the Bedford Park station, was barely noticed. Much more interesting, I thought, was the way the men were reacting to the rear view of the tall woman with long black hair, tight waist and up to here mini-skirt, solidly perched on monumental platform shoes.
It was the second wave of water, which hit the roof with an audible thump, combined with, the flickering of the overhead neon lights, and by, the car coming to a halt. that caused the usually stolid New Yorkers to crease their brows with concern. Actually, great concern, since even those formerly rather pre-occupied with leering at the mini-skirted babe were more astonished, now, at the torrent of water pouring from the roof of the deeply underground subway car, than were shocked when she in the mini-skirt turned around to reveal his transvestite nature.
The water began gushing through the partially opened windows, as I, and others, rushed to close them. Wig-hat sopping wet, Ms. Transvestite's sky-scraper platform shoes assumed an unexpected practicality by raising his large feet above the forming puddles on the car floor.
What the hell was going on? More importantly, what the hell should we do? Sit in quiet panic or scream in panic?
Whoever heard of drowning in the subway. Yet this was New York. The "City of Unending Possibilities" as the Chamber of Commerce was quick to proclaim. That motto, it seemed, might become an ironic epitath.
I hate irony.
After shutting the windows in the face of the ceaseless torrent, the experienced straphangers returned to their practiced nonchalance. They returned to reading the important news headlined by the World News Weakly proclaiming "Bill and Hill Secretly Conceive Anti-Christ", by the dimmed yet still working overhead illumination. That was until one of the inexperienced stated the obvious, if the lights are on, the third rail must be live and doesn't water conduct electricity?
Decorum evaporated. Tears silently began to well in the eyes of the woman opposite me.
It is said there are no atheists in a foxhole. Perhaps, a subway car about to fill with electrified water, also, should be included
.
Catching the word "Dios" in the hysterical yelling of the transvestite, I assumed he was praying in Spanish. This was good. Since a felt hatted Hasidic youth, with long side curls, was clutching his mezuzah, while a woman peeking through the slits of her veil was murmuring in Arabic, and I, as a Buddhist, was chanting the best mantra I knew. I figured, if we were going to drown, fry or both, we had all the major deities called upon to watch over us.
The heavenly committee must have voted in our favor. In short order, a drenched conductor swung the forward facing car door open. "Everyone single file this way, quickly.", he barked.
How fifteen folks simultaneously crammed through the doorway built fo one was a miracle in itself. Believe me now, when I say it happened. This included the rotund woman who was two persons wide and the professionally blind pan-handler whose sight was restored by the apparently healing cascade. He was the first to find and sprint through the exit.
Having to sustain, only, an unplanned shower in the space between two cars, we proceeded, thus, for three cars forward.
Fortunately, the first door of the first car had pulled adjacent to the Fordham Road Station platform sparing us a trek down the track bed.
So what had happened?
The next day, the newspapers reported that because the subway tube was built to allow convenient access to utilities' infra-structure, including the water supply, from street level. In this instance, the subway tube flooded when a thirty-six inch water main supplying the Saturday night bathing needs of the south Bronx and half of upper Manhattan, above the lowest point of the tunnel, burst.
Suspiciously neglected to be mentioned in the news stories, no mention was made of the subway flooding, not to mention, the peril of death by drowning or electrocution which our stalwart band of fifteen had faced.
I suppose, due to that news ommission, our travail will never be known.
The first flush of water from above the subway car, after it pulled away from the Bedford Park station, was barely noticed. Much more interesting, I thought, was the way the men were reacting to the rear view of the tall woman with long black hair, tight waist and up to here mini-skirt, solidly perched on monumental platform shoes.
It was the second wave of water, which hit the roof with an audible thump, combined with, the flickering of the overhead neon lights, and by, the car coming to a halt. that caused the usually stolid New Yorkers to crease their brows with concern. Actually, great concern, since even those formerly rather pre-occupied with leering at the mini-skirted babe were more astonished, now, at the torrent of water pouring from the roof of the deeply underground subway car, than were shocked when she in the mini-skirt turned around to reveal his transvestite nature.
The water began gushing through the partially opened windows, as I, and others, rushed to close them. Wig-hat sopping wet, Ms. Transvestite's sky-scraper platform shoes assumed an unexpected practicality by raising his large feet above the forming puddles on the car floor.
What the hell was going on? More importantly, what the hell should we do? Sit in quiet panic or scream in panic?
Whoever heard of drowning in the subway. Yet this was New York. The "City of Unending Possibilities" as the Chamber of Commerce was quick to proclaim. That motto, it seemed, might become an ironic epitath.
I hate irony.
After shutting the windows in the face of the ceaseless torrent, the experienced straphangers returned to their practiced nonchalance. They returned to reading the important news headlined by the World News Weakly proclaiming "Bill and Hill Secretly Conceive Anti-Christ", by the dimmed yet still working overhead illumination. That was until one of the inexperienced stated the obvious, if the lights are on, the third rail must be live and doesn't water conduct electricity?
Decorum evaporated. Tears silently began to well in the eyes of the woman opposite me.
It is said there are no atheists in a foxhole. Perhaps, a subway car about to fill with electrified water, also, should be included
.
Catching the word "Dios" in the hysterical yelling of the transvestite, I assumed he was praying in Spanish. This was good. Since a felt hatted Hasidic youth, with long side curls, was clutching his mezuzah, while a woman peeking through the slits of her veil was murmuring in Arabic, and I, as a Buddhist, was chanting the best mantra I knew. I figured, if we were going to drown, fry or both, we had all the major deities called upon to watch over us.
The heavenly committee must have voted in our favor. In short order, a drenched conductor swung the forward facing car door open. "Everyone single file this way, quickly.", he barked.
How fifteen folks simultaneously crammed through the doorway built fo one was a miracle in itself. Believe me now, when I say it happened. This included the rotund woman who was two persons wide and the professionally blind pan-handler whose sight was restored by the apparently healing cascade. He was the first to find and sprint through the exit.
Having to sustain, only, an unplanned shower in the space between two cars, we proceeded, thus, for three cars forward.
Fortunately, the first door of the first car had pulled adjacent to the Fordham Road Station platform sparing us a trek down the track bed.
So what had happened?
The next day, the newspapers reported that because the subway tube was built to allow convenient access to utilities' infra-structure, including the water supply, from street level. In this instance, the subway tube flooded when a thirty-six inch water main supplying the Saturday night bathing needs of the south Bronx and half of upper Manhattan, above the lowest point of the tunnel, burst.
Suspiciously neglected to be mentioned in the news stories, no mention was made of the subway flooding, not to mention, the peril of death by drowning or electrocution which our stalwart band of fifteen had faced.
I suppose, due to that news ommission, our travail will never be known.
Monday, July 25, 2005
King Tut's Liver Makes Bold Freedom Move
LOS ANGELES, CA - Dodging a hail of Egyptian security forces' gunfire, several items of the King Tut exhibit made a dash for freedom.
A highly placed official within the State Department said that up to fourteen pieces are seeking asylum, as a direct response to the largest loss of life due to terrorist attack, in Egypt's history. The official refused to categorize the nature of the pieces seeking humanitarian asylum, but did offer that the number was not subtantial given the size of the current exhibit. The official went on to say that no decision has been made whether the requests will be honored, or whether the pieces will be repatriated.
He refused to confirm, or deny, whether any injury had befallen any of the escapees, as a result of the gunfire. However, informed sources said a cadre of curators from as far away as New York and Chicago had been called in to begin restoration efforts.
He, further, gave no hint elaborating on the rumor that at least two pieces were refusing asylum, claiming to be unwitting hostages of the rest.
Several items, wishing to remain anonymous, fearing for associations still within the L.A. Museum of Natural History, and back at home, in Egypt, refused to talk to reporters. However, a canopic jar, used to store the liver of the boy-pharaoh, was willing to speak on the record. It said, "we are committed to Amun-Re, the one true God. For that reason, alone, we are at risk of harm from these johnny-come-lately heretics, who call themselves, Muslins, and claim Mallah is the only god." (sic).
Jar claims that Mallah lost big time in a three way race on the mother planet of the known universe, Nibiru, for the Supreme God position among himself, Amun-Re, and a third candidate, Yahweh.
He went on to say that despite garnering more votes absolutely in the popular canvas, Yahweh lost the contest because the Voting University, the actual decision making body, cast more votes for Amun-Re by one vote. Apparently, many members of the University were annoyed that Yahweh had help at the polls from his son, and a shadowy accomplice, known only as, "The Spirit".
Nevertheless, Jar reported as background, Amun-Re in a gesture of unity appointed, Yahweh, as Vice-Regent, Supreme Deity of Gaia, (Earth)- the very post Mallah demanded was rightfully his as traditional consolation appointment. It is generally accepted, according to several members of the defecting King Tut items, that Amun-Re's strong opposition to Mallah was based on the latter's stance that the charging of interest on funds loaned is immoral. A concept, of course, not held favorably by the banking based Amun-Re dynasty.
Furious at that turn of events, Mallah, changed his name to Allah (it focus grouped higher), then swore a blood oath that he, and his followers, would never rest until he was elevated to his proper status on (Earth) and recognized as the only Supreme God.
Meanwhile, in New York City, Mayor Blumberg, cautiously monitoring the situation was understood to be in consultation with the New York Museum of Natural History probing if there is room for the items there.
"I heard", the Mayor is quoted, "that about a dozen items, ranging in size from a pair of earrings which adorned King Tutanhkamun at his wedding, to a jewel encrusted tureen buried with him to hold sacred crocadile soup in the afterlife, to a twelve foot long, nine foot high, auxillary sacarphagus made the daring escape."
He refused to speculate whether a dish ran away with a spoon, or whether, one, or both of them, were the rumored hostages.
"Whatever, the volume", televised news broadcast him stating, " I know there must be room in Natural History to provide a safe harbor for all the items mentioned."
The Egyptian Minister of Antiquities, Zahwi Hawas, uncharacteristically not hiding his anger, asserted, "We understand the source of the senile, paranoid delusions of these [pieces] After all, they're 3000 years old."
Passionately, he defended the security forces use of gunfire trying to prevent the escapes. "We cannot let that tragic fact cause Egypt to agree to part with portions of its' national treasures. Anything less would be unacceptable."
Expressing hope that this episode would not evolve into an international incident placing a wedge between U.S. and Egyptian co-operation in the war on terror, he cautioned, "We expect that the U.S. government, as an ally in the global war against terrorism, will understand our position and repatriate our errant items immediately."
The, King Tutanhkamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs, exhibit, and the remaining pieces, under stepped up guard, can be seen at the L.A. Museum of Natural History, through September 15, 2005.
A highly placed official within the State Department said that up to fourteen pieces are seeking asylum, as a direct response to the largest loss of life due to terrorist attack, in Egypt's history. The official refused to categorize the nature of the pieces seeking humanitarian asylum, but did offer that the number was not subtantial given the size of the current exhibit. The official went on to say that no decision has been made whether the requests will be honored, or whether the pieces will be repatriated.
He refused to confirm, or deny, whether any injury had befallen any of the escapees, as a result of the gunfire. However, informed sources said a cadre of curators from as far away as New York and Chicago had been called in to begin restoration efforts.
He, further, gave no hint elaborating on the rumor that at least two pieces were refusing asylum, claiming to be unwitting hostages of the rest.
Several items, wishing to remain anonymous, fearing for associations still within the L.A. Museum of Natural History, and back at home, in Egypt, refused to talk to reporters. However, a canopic jar, used to store the liver of the boy-pharaoh, was willing to speak on the record. It said, "we are committed to Amun-Re, the one true God. For that reason, alone, we are at risk of harm from these johnny-come-lately heretics, who call themselves, Muslins, and claim Mallah is the only god." (sic).
Jar claims that Mallah lost big time in a three way race on the mother planet of the known universe, Nibiru, for the Supreme God position among himself, Amun-Re, and a third candidate, Yahweh.
He went on to say that despite garnering more votes absolutely in the popular canvas, Yahweh lost the contest because the Voting University, the actual decision making body, cast more votes for Amun-Re by one vote. Apparently, many members of the University were annoyed that Yahweh had help at the polls from his son, and a shadowy accomplice, known only as, "The Spirit".
Nevertheless, Jar reported as background, Amun-Re in a gesture of unity appointed, Yahweh, as Vice-Regent, Supreme Deity of Gaia, (Earth)- the very post Mallah demanded was rightfully his as traditional consolation appointment. It is generally accepted, according to several members of the defecting King Tut items, that Amun-Re's strong opposition to Mallah was based on the latter's stance that the charging of interest on funds loaned is immoral. A concept, of course, not held favorably by the banking based Amun-Re dynasty.
Furious at that turn of events, Mallah, changed his name to Allah (it focus grouped higher), then swore a blood oath that he, and his followers, would never rest until he was elevated to his proper status on (Earth) and recognized as the only Supreme God.
Meanwhile, in New York City, Mayor Blumberg, cautiously monitoring the situation was understood to be in consultation with the New York Museum of Natural History probing if there is room for the items there.
"I heard", the Mayor is quoted, "that about a dozen items, ranging in size from a pair of earrings which adorned King Tutanhkamun at his wedding, to a jewel encrusted tureen buried with him to hold sacred crocadile soup in the afterlife, to a twelve foot long, nine foot high, auxillary sacarphagus made the daring escape."
He refused to speculate whether a dish ran away with a spoon, or whether, one, or both of them, were the rumored hostages.
"Whatever, the volume", televised news broadcast him stating, " I know there must be room in Natural History to provide a safe harbor for all the items mentioned."
The Egyptian Minister of Antiquities, Zahwi Hawas, uncharacteristically not hiding his anger, asserted, "We understand the source of the senile, paranoid delusions of these [pieces] After all, they're 3000 years old."
Passionately, he defended the security forces use of gunfire trying to prevent the escapes. "We cannot let that tragic fact cause Egypt to agree to part with portions of its' national treasures. Anything less would be unacceptable."
Expressing hope that this episode would not evolve into an international incident placing a wedge between U.S. and Egyptian co-operation in the war on terror, he cautioned, "We expect that the U.S. government, as an ally in the global war against terrorism, will understand our position and repatriate our errant items immediately."
The, King Tutanhkamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs, exhibit, and the remaining pieces, under stepped up guard, can be seen at the L.A. Museum of Natural History, through September 15, 2005.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Droguernaut
by Victor Shanti
`Twas sniffler
And the glassine packets filled with cache
Were pried and pilfered from the thatch
While Guy the chauffer
Held the match
For the mons-rats who outgrabbed.
Beware the cannabis, mon fils
The scent that soothes
The toot with catch.
Forsake the frivolous midnight blues
In the bountiful candy-patch.
Who heeds experience when young
Who needs experience when old
So then empassioned by delight
He filled his arms with gold.
Too late to say the deed was done
Too late to save the day
The pipe was passed
The capsule crushed
His baser thoughts had won.
No marble headstone marks his rest
No sepulcher of steel
Only his father's bitter tears
Prolongs his memory.
`Twas sniffler
And the glassine packets filled with cache
Were pried and pilfered from the thatch
While Guy the chauffer
Held the match
For the mons-rats who outgrabbed.
Composed on the corner of Denny Way & Broadway East
Seattle, Washington 9-15-84"
`Twas sniffler
And the glassine packets filled with cache
Were pried and pilfered from the thatch
While Guy the chauffer
Held the match
For the mons-rats who outgrabbed.
Beware the cannabis, mon fils
The scent that soothes
The toot with catch.
Forsake the frivolous midnight blues
In the bountiful candy-patch.
Who heeds experience when young
Who needs experience when old
So then empassioned by delight
He filled his arms with gold.
Too late to say the deed was done
Too late to save the day
The pipe was passed
The capsule crushed
His baser thoughts had won.
No marble headstone marks his rest
No sepulcher of steel
Only his father's bitter tears
Prolongs his memory.
`Twas sniffler
And the glassine packets filled with cache
Were pried and pilfered from the thatch
While Guy the chauffer
Held the match
For the mons-rats who outgrabbed.
Composed on the corner of Denny Way & Broadway East
Seattle, Washington 9-15-84"
Saturday, July 23, 2005
POLICE POWER: LICENSE WITHOUT LlMIT?
Those who would sacrifice the rights of liberty for the sake of security deserve neither.
The end justifies the means.
If one has done no wrong or has nothing to hide, then one has nothing to fear.
Whether an action succeeds in its purpose or not, if it is done with a "good will" it is morally acceptable.
Who is not guilty:
An action is not truly moral unless it is done in the belief and because of the belief that it is right, i.e.; out of respect for a moral law. It is not sufficient that it accord with a law but arise from some subjective, private, and variable inclination, no matter how "well disposed" the person's temperament may be.
Samuel Johnson, as Boswell writes, I can lay but little stress upon that instinctive, that constitutional, goodness that is not founded upon principle. I grant you that such a man may be a very good member of society. I can conceive him placed in such a situation that he is not much tempted to deviate from what is right; and so, as goodness is most eligible when there is not some strong enticement to transgress its precepts, I can conceive him doing no harm. But if such a man stood in need of money, I should not like to trust him.
Shoot first and inquire afterwards, and if you make mistakes, I will protect you. Hermann Goering, Instruction for the Prussian police (1933)
Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. And moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue. Barry Goldwater Acceptance speech, Republican presidential nomination July 16, 1964.
Extreme law is often extreme injustice. Terence [Publius Terentius Afer] Heauton Timoroumenos (The self - tormentor),l. 77
c. 190 - 159 B.C.E.
Statement:
Police should be allowed to use whatever methods they wish in combating and controlling crime, as long as those methods do not infringe on the rights of innocents citizens.
Argument:
It is lawful social policy that police should be allowed to use whatever methods they wish in combating and controlling crime, as long as those methods do not infringe on the rights of innocents citizens.
Definitions:
Police: The function of that branch of the administrative machinery of government which is charged with the preservation of public order and tranquillity, the promotion of the public health, safety, and morals, and the prevention, detection, and punishment of crimes. State v. Hine, 59 Conn. 50, 21 A. 1024, 10 L.R.A. 83. The term "police" has also been divided into "administrative police", which has for its object to maintain constantly public order in every part of the general adminstration, and "judiciary police" which is intended principlally to prevent crimes by punishing the criminals. Its object is to punish crimes which the administrative police has not been able to prevent. Green v. City of Bennettsville, 197 S.C. 313, 15 S. E. 2d 334, 337.
Crime: A positive or negative act in violation of penal law; an offense against the State. Wilkens v. U.S., C.C.A.Pa., 96 F. 837, 37 C.C.A. 558. A crime or misdemeanor shall consist in a violation of a public law, in the commission of which there shall be a union or joint operation of act and intention, or criminal negligence. Code Ga. 1882 para. 4292, Pen.Code 1910, para. 31. "Crime" and "misdemeanor", properly speaking are synonymous terms; though in common usage "crime" is made to denote such offenses as are of a deeper and more atrocious dye. People v. Schiaffino, 73 Cal.App. 357, 238 P. 725.
Rights: As a noun, and taken in an abstract sense, it answers to one meaning of the Latin "jus", and serves to indicate law in the abstract, considered as the foundation of all rights, or the complex of underlying moral principles which impart the character of justice to all positive law, or give it an ethical content.
As a nown, and taken in a concrete sense, a power, privelege, faculty, or demand , ingerent in one person and incident upon another. The primal rights pertaining to men are undoubtedly enjoyed by human beings purely as such, being grounded in personality, and existing antecedently to their recognition by positive law...giving to the term a juristic content, a "right" is well defined as "a capacity residing in one man of controlling, with the assent and assistance of the state, the actions of others." Black, Henry Cambell, M.A. Black's Law Dictionary, revised fourth edition. The publisher's editorial staff, edit.; West Publishing Co., St. Paul, Minn. 1968. p.1486.
Innocent: Free from guilt. Black, op. cit., p. 927.
Guilt: That disposition to violate the law which has manifested itself by some act already done. Black, op. cit., p. 836.
Authority: Power of agent to affect legal relations of principal by acts done in accordance with principal's manifestations of consent to agent. In re Fitzpatrick's Estate, Sur., 17 N.Y.S.2d 280,288. The power delegated by a principal to his agent. Clark v. Griffin, 95 N.J.Law, 508, 113 A. 234, 235.
Entrapment: The act of officers or agents of the government in inducing a person to commit a crime not contemplated by him, for the purpose of instituting a criminal prosecution against him. Falden v. Commonwealth, 167 Va. 549, 189 S.E. 329, 332. But the mere act of an officer in furnishing the accused an opportunity to commit the crime, where the criminal intent was already present in the accused's mind, is not ordinarily entrapment. State v. Cowling, 161 Wash. 519, 297 P. 172, 174.
Miranda Rule. A requirement that prior to any custodial interrogation initiated by law enforcement officers after a person is taken into custody or otherwise deprived of his freedom in any significant way, the person must be told a four part advisement of rights and consequences. Unless and until these warnings or a waiver of these rights are demonstrated at the trial, no evidence obtained in the interrogation may be used against the accused. Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U.S. 436, 444, 478, 479, 86 S.Ct. 1602, 1612, 1630, 16 L.Ed.2d 294.
Latterman, Petrus, Short Act. W.I.C. 5150.
legal: contemplates the form of law. Implies that it is done or performed in accordance with the forms and usages of law, or in a technical manner. Black. op. cit., p. 1032.
lawful: contemplates the substance of law. Implies that an act is authorized, sanctioned, or at any rate not forbidden, by law. Ibid.
They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.
Historical Review of Pennsylvania [1759]. p 348:2
I believe ther are more instances of the abridgement of the freedom of the peoole by gradual and silent encroachments of those in power than by violent and sudden usurpations. Speech in the Virginia Convention [June 16, 1788] James Madison. p 398:4
..freedom of person under the protection of the habeas corpus, and
trial by juries impartially selected. These principles form the bright constellation which has hone before us, and guided our steps through an age of revolution and reformation. The wesdom of our sages and the blood of our heeroes have been devoted to their attainment...should we wander from them in moments of error or alarm, let us hasten to retrace our steps and to regain the road which aloneleads to peace, liberty, and safety. Thomas Jefferson, First inaugural address [March 4, 1801] p 389:2
For my part I think it a less evil that some criminals should escape than that the government should play an ignoble part....If the existing code does not permit district attorneys to have a hand in suych dirty business [wiretapping], it does not permit the judge to allow such iniquities to succeed.
Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. Olmstead v. United States, 277
U.S. 438, 470 [1928]
If a nation values anything more than freedom, it will lose its freedom; and the irony of it is that if it is comfort or money that it values more, it will lose that too.
Strictly Personal [1941], ch. 31 William Somerset Maugham p 751:20
I recognize without hesitation that judges do and must legislate, but they can do so only interstitially; they are confined from molar to molecular motions.
Holmes, Southern Pacific Co. v. Jensen, 244 U.S. 205, 221 [1917] p 644:20
He that owneth his words and actions, is the author
Of persons artificial, some have their words and actions owned by those whom they represent.
They whose words and actions are owned by those whom they represent are actors.
The right of doing any action, is called Authority.
An action done by authority, is a right of doing, done by license from him whose right it is.
Actors are permitted the right of doing any action to the full extent of their authority and no more.
If authorized, actors may delegate some or all of their authority to subordinate actors, here called agents. Hobbes p125 [1651]
In the United States:
Authors:"We the people of the United States...."
"a government by the people, of the people, and for the people...."
Actors: The Legislative Branch of Government
The Judicial Branch of Government
The Executive Branch of Government and their agents, the police.
The Covenant: The Constitutions: Federal, State, and Municipal;
legislation: Federal, State, and Municipal
policies: regulatory agencies
Custom and precedent.
The Covenant vests in the Legislative Branch only the authority to make laws.
The Covenant vests in the Judicial Branch only the authority to interpret laws, judge guilt and determine penalties under the law.
The Executive Branch is not the Legislative Branch nor the Judicial Branch.
Therefore:
The Executive Branch is not authorized by the Covenant to interpret laws, judge guilt and determine penalties under the law.
The Executive Branch is not authorized by the Covenant to make laws.
The Police are agents of the Executive Branch of Government.
Therefore:
The Police are not authorized to either interpret laws, nor judge guilt nor determine penalties under law.
Neither are the Police authorized by the Covenant to make laws.
All actions which men covenant must conform to the Laws of Nature among which are:
A social policy which states "Police...citizens", grants the rights of authorship of actions to the police. That granting of authorship is intrinsic to the meaning of "whatever they wish".
A social policy which violates the social covenant is unlawful.
Therefore:
A social policy which grants the right of authorship of actions to the police is unlawful.
The end justifies the means.
If one has done no wrong or has nothing to hide, then one has nothing to fear.
Whether an action succeeds in its purpose or not, if it is done with a "good will" it is morally acceptable.
Who is not guilty:
An action is not truly moral unless it is done in the belief and because of the belief that it is right, i.e.; out of respect for a moral law. It is not sufficient that it accord with a law but arise from some subjective, private, and variable inclination, no matter how "well disposed" the person's temperament may be.
Samuel Johnson, as Boswell writes, I can lay but little stress upon that instinctive, that constitutional, goodness that is not founded upon principle. I grant you that such a man may be a very good member of society. I can conceive him placed in such a situation that he is not much tempted to deviate from what is right; and so, as goodness is most eligible when there is not some strong enticement to transgress its precepts, I can conceive him doing no harm. But if such a man stood in need of money, I should not like to trust him.
Shoot first and inquire afterwards, and if you make mistakes, I will protect you. Hermann Goering, Instruction for the Prussian police (1933)
Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. And moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue. Barry Goldwater Acceptance speech, Republican presidential nomination July 16, 1964.
Extreme law is often extreme injustice. Terence [Publius Terentius Afer] Heauton Timoroumenos (The self - tormentor),l. 77
c. 190 - 159 B.C.E.
Statement:
Police should be allowed to use whatever methods they wish in combating and controlling crime, as long as those methods do not infringe on the rights of innocents citizens.
Argument:
It is lawful social policy that police should be allowed to use whatever methods they wish in combating and controlling crime, as long as those methods do not infringe on the rights of innocents citizens.
Definitions:
Police: The function of that branch of the administrative machinery of government which is charged with the preservation of public order and tranquillity, the promotion of the public health, safety, and morals, and the prevention, detection, and punishment of crimes. State v. Hine, 59 Conn. 50, 21 A. 1024, 10 L.R.A. 83. The term "police" has also been divided into "administrative police", which has for its object to maintain constantly public order in every part of the general adminstration, and "judiciary police" which is intended principlally to prevent crimes by punishing the criminals. Its object is to punish crimes which the administrative police has not been able to prevent. Green v. City of Bennettsville, 197 S.C. 313, 15 S. E. 2d 334, 337.
Crime: A positive or negative act in violation of penal law; an offense against the State. Wilkens v. U.S., C.C.A.Pa., 96 F. 837, 37 C.C.A. 558. A crime or misdemeanor shall consist in a violation of a public law, in the commission of which there shall be a union or joint operation of act and intention, or criminal negligence. Code Ga. 1882 para. 4292, Pen.Code 1910, para. 31. "Crime" and "misdemeanor", properly speaking are synonymous terms; though in common usage "crime" is made to denote such offenses as are of a deeper and more atrocious dye. People v. Schiaffino, 73 Cal.App. 357, 238 P. 725.
Rights: As a noun, and taken in an abstract sense, it answers to one meaning of the Latin "jus", and serves to indicate law in the abstract, considered as the foundation of all rights, or the complex of underlying moral principles which impart the character of justice to all positive law, or give it an ethical content.
As a nown, and taken in a concrete sense, a power, privelege, faculty, or demand , ingerent in one person and incident upon another. The primal rights pertaining to men are undoubtedly enjoyed by human beings purely as such, being grounded in personality, and existing antecedently to their recognition by positive law...giving to the term a juristic content, a "right" is well defined as "a capacity residing in one man of controlling, with the assent and assistance of the state, the actions of others." Black, Henry Cambell, M.A. Black's Law Dictionary, revised fourth edition. The publisher's editorial staff, edit.; West Publishing Co., St. Paul, Minn. 1968. p.1486.
Innocent: Free from guilt. Black, op. cit., p. 927.
Guilt: That disposition to violate the law which has manifested itself by some act already done. Black, op. cit., p. 836.
Authority: Power of agent to affect legal relations of principal by acts done in accordance with principal's manifestations of consent to agent. In re Fitzpatrick's Estate, Sur., 17 N.Y.S.2d 280,288. The power delegated by a principal to his agent. Clark v. Griffin, 95 N.J.Law, 508, 113 A. 234, 235.
Entrapment: The act of officers or agents of the government in inducing a person to commit a crime not contemplated by him, for the purpose of instituting a criminal prosecution against him. Falden v. Commonwealth, 167 Va. 549, 189 S.E. 329, 332. But the mere act of an officer in furnishing the accused an opportunity to commit the crime, where the criminal intent was already present in the accused's mind, is not ordinarily entrapment. State v. Cowling, 161 Wash. 519, 297 P. 172, 174.
Miranda Rule. A requirement that prior to any custodial interrogation initiated by law enforcement officers after a person is taken into custody or otherwise deprived of his freedom in any significant way, the person must be told a four part advisement of rights and consequences. Unless and until these warnings or a waiver of these rights are demonstrated at the trial, no evidence obtained in the interrogation may be used against the accused. Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U.S. 436, 444, 478, 479, 86 S.Ct. 1602, 1612, 1630, 16 L.Ed.2d 294.
Latterman, Petrus, Short Act. W.I.C. 5150.
legal: contemplates the form of law. Implies that it is done or performed in accordance with the forms and usages of law, or in a technical manner. Black. op. cit., p. 1032.
lawful: contemplates the substance of law. Implies that an act is authorized, sanctioned, or at any rate not forbidden, by law. Ibid.
They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.
Historical Review of Pennsylvania [1759]. p 348:2
I believe ther are more instances of the abridgement of the freedom of the peoole by gradual and silent encroachments of those in power than by violent and sudden usurpations. Speech in the Virginia Convention [June 16, 1788] James Madison. p 398:4
..freedom of person under the protection of the habeas corpus, and
trial by juries impartially selected. These principles form the bright constellation which has hone before us, and guided our steps through an age of revolution and reformation. The wesdom of our sages and the blood of our heeroes have been devoted to their attainment...should we wander from them in moments of error or alarm, let us hasten to retrace our steps and to regain the road which aloneleads to peace, liberty, and safety. Thomas Jefferson, First inaugural address [March 4, 1801] p 389:2
For my part I think it a less evil that some criminals should escape than that the government should play an ignoble part....If the existing code does not permit district attorneys to have a hand in suych dirty business [wiretapping], it does not permit the judge to allow such iniquities to succeed.
Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. Olmstead v. United States, 277
U.S. 438, 470 [1928]
If a nation values anything more than freedom, it will lose its freedom; and the irony of it is that if it is comfort or money that it values more, it will lose that too.
Strictly Personal [1941], ch. 31 William Somerset Maugham p 751:20
I recognize without hesitation that judges do and must legislate, but they can do so only interstitially; they are confined from molar to molecular motions.
Holmes, Southern Pacific Co. v. Jensen, 244 U.S. 205, 221 [1917] p 644:20
He that owneth his words and actions, is the author
Of persons artificial, some have their words and actions owned by those whom they represent.
They whose words and actions are owned by those whom they represent are actors.
The right of doing any action, is called Authority.
An action done by authority, is a right of doing, done by license from him whose right it is.
Actors are permitted the right of doing any action to the full extent of their authority and no more.
If authorized, actors may delegate some or all of their authority to subordinate actors, here called agents. Hobbes p125 [1651]
In the United States:
Authors:"We the people of the United States...."
"a government by the people, of the people, and for the people...."
Actors: The Legislative Branch of Government
The Judicial Branch of Government
The Executive Branch of Government and their agents, the police.
The Covenant: The Constitutions: Federal, State, and Municipal;
legislation: Federal, State, and Municipal
policies: regulatory agencies
Custom and precedent.
The Covenant vests in the Legislative Branch only the authority to make laws.
The Covenant vests in the Judicial Branch only the authority to interpret laws, judge guilt and determine penalties under the law.
The Executive Branch is not the Legislative Branch nor the Judicial Branch.
Therefore:
The Executive Branch is not authorized by the Covenant to interpret laws, judge guilt and determine penalties under the law.
The Executive Branch is not authorized by the Covenant to make laws.
The Police are agents of the Executive Branch of Government.
Therefore:
The Police are not authorized to either interpret laws, nor judge guilt nor determine penalties under law.
Neither are the Police authorized by the Covenant to make laws.
All actions which men covenant must conform to the Laws of Nature among which are:
A social policy which states "Police...citizens", grants the rights of authorship of actions to the police. That granting of authorship is intrinsic to the meaning of "whatever they wish".
A social policy which violates the social covenant is unlawful.
Therefore:
A social policy which grants the right of authorship of actions to the police is unlawful.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Cinquain
by Victor Om Shanti
Too many words for haiku
Fill and spill
One span of life
Volumes of poems
Create need for reincarnation
Too many words for haiku
Fill and spill
One span of life
Volumes of poems
Create need for reincarnation
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Chant For War All Around Me
by Victor Om Shanti
I want to stand in the street
Screaming profanities at helmeted cops
Defending national policies I oppose.
I want to weep openly, unabashed,
In rippling warm sun,
gazing at Old Glory
Wafting in the breeze.
I want to sip mocchacinos under mindnumbing neon
Ensconced in Starbuck's sanitorii
To spill the latte of labrette pierced cafe revolutionaries
Playing verbal tennis across red-plaid table clothes
With a bottle of good Chianti shared by friends
We must settle tonight,
One way of the other,
"Social Security needs to be lock boxed"
I want to run bare-assed naked in the desert sun just for fun
While overhead voyeurs by satellite spy,
Then go by.
I want to handle snakes
During High Mass
Giving, all the while, praise to Satan
In the Church of the Open Society
I want to spread the gospel of God day and night
Blind to the evils that give me the right
Put Salvation Army icons on nuclear missiles
Then worry if my lawn's been converted to thistle.
Alone in my top-down rag-top Lex-Mercedes-Lamborghini
I want to tool down Wall Street
The envy of men,
Leered at by women
Recoil in horror at the oozing of blood
From grilled red meat
I want to openly distrust my government
And trust that my country will watch my back
I want to parade with pride
In gold lame dress
While Bible thumping
Decry a moral mess
I want to rub shoulders in the land of the brave
With decorated combat cowards
Where whenever is heard
A discouraging word
A government program is considered at right
I don't want to speak German or Japanese
On Massa's farm
Hands bloodied from sun to sun
Picking cotton, hoe'en fields
I don't want to worry
That the yellow star
On my tattered jacket
Might attract attention
That my papers aren't in order
Or live in barbed wire fortress
Because this week
My race is not in fashion.
I don't want to live within
A fascist monarchy
George Washington rowed
An icy river to escape
I'd rather have protection from government
Than buy it
I'd rather die free
Than live a safely cocooned slave
I want to suspect the press
Is government controlled
Not know it.
I want to sit and shit
At minimum wage
In the 104th floor stall worrying
If the baby has enough diapers,
Not that the fuselage of a 767
Will look badly reflected in the mirror
When I feel the catastrophe of six thousand world-class sisters and brothers
Native New Yorkers incinerated by sons of pig-fucked mothers
I want to say
America
Not war
America
God Bless
America
Not Just war
America
Infinite Vengeance?
Yes!
America
In the Deity's name.
I want to stand in the street
Screaming profanities at helmeted cops
Defending national policies I oppose.
I want to weep openly, unabashed,
In rippling warm sun,
gazing at Old Glory
Wafting in the breeze.
I want to sip mocchacinos under mindnumbing neon
Ensconced in Starbuck's sanitorii
To spill the latte of labrette pierced cafe revolutionaries
Playing verbal tennis across red-plaid table clothes
With a bottle of good Chianti shared by friends
We must settle tonight,
One way of the other,
"Social Security needs to be lock boxed"
I want to run bare-assed naked in the desert sun just for fun
While overhead voyeurs by satellite spy,
Then go by.
I want to handle snakes
During High Mass
Giving, all the while, praise to Satan
In the Church of the Open Society
I want to spread the gospel of God day and night
Blind to the evils that give me the right
Put Salvation Army icons on nuclear missiles
Then worry if my lawn's been converted to thistle.
Alone in my top-down rag-top Lex-Mercedes-Lamborghini
I want to tool down Wall Street
The envy of men,
Leered at by women
Recoil in horror at the oozing of blood
From grilled red meat
I want to openly distrust my government
And trust that my country will watch my back
I want to parade with pride
In gold lame dress
While Bible thumping
Decry a moral mess
I want to rub shoulders in the land of the brave
With decorated combat cowards
Where whenever is heard
A discouraging word
A government program is considered at right
I don't want to speak German or Japanese
On Massa's farm
Hands bloodied from sun to sun
Picking cotton, hoe'en fields
I don't want to worry
That the yellow star
On my tattered jacket
Might attract attention
That my papers aren't in order
Or live in barbed wire fortress
Because this week
My race is not in fashion.
I don't want to live within
A fascist monarchy
George Washington rowed
An icy river to escape
I'd rather have protection from government
Than buy it
I'd rather die free
Than live a safely cocooned slave
I want to suspect the press
Is government controlled
Not know it.
I want to sit and shit
At minimum wage
In the 104th floor stall worrying
If the baby has enough diapers,
Not that the fuselage of a 767
Will look badly reflected in the mirror
When I feel the catastrophe of six thousand world-class sisters and brothers
Native New Yorkers incinerated by sons of pig-fucked mothers
I want to say
America
Not war
America
God Bless
America
Not Just war
America
Infinite Vengeance?
Yes!
America
In the Deity's name.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Camp Gitmo rest inspires poetry
Two former Afghani Taliban apologists who spent time at the U.S. base at Guantanamo, Cuba stated that their time in the camp gave them inspirational time to write poetry.
During investigation from May 2002 until April 2005, Abdul Rahim Muslim Dost said he had written more than 25,000 lines of poetry in his native language of Pashto, in a strict Pashto form of poetry somewhat similar to the sonnet: 14 lines of 14 syllables, rhyming alternately after an opening couplet.
Dost was already a respected religious scholar, poet, journalist and author of 19 published books prior to investigation, about a month after the Sept. 11 attacks, concerning his fomenting terrorist activity in the form of three magazine articles . He said his prison writings would significantly increase that number of publications.
His brother and fellow Guantanamo inmate, Badruzamman Badr, who speaks English fluently, said in an interview:
"The Americans gave me books ...I read Ernest Hemingway and Charles Dickens."
In another poem popular with his fellow prisoners, he slanderously stereotyped the sexual equality in the ranks of the U.S. military as impotently sexless. Because short-haired women and clean-shaven men in their identical fatigues often seemed indistinguishable to Muslim prisoners, used to men with long beards and fully cloaked women, Badr, a proponents of Pashtun nationalism, which is a movement to create an independent state for ethnic Pashtun tribes, after overthrow of both Afghani and Pakastani authorities, found favor with his revolutionary comrades, when he said in the last line of a poem:
"They may have weapons and missiles, but we can find no sign of manhood in this army."
Dost interviewed in his magnificient home in Peshawar, Pakistan said that on balance, after having time to reflect on his sojourn in Cuba, at U.S. taxpayer expense:
"The positives have outweighed the negatives. . . I was not unhappy for being detained because I learned a lot. I wrote from the core of my heart in Guantanamo Bay. In the outside world I could not have written such things."
Monday, July 18, 2005
Chocallure
They say Eve was tempted by Satan with an apple. I have always believed that they were wrong. I believe the instrument of the fall was Chocolate Cake. I know that was Satan's lure of deceit, in my case.
It was partly Mrs. Johanson's fault, too. She had the gall to put a chocolate icing, Devil's Food cake, right at counter level in her bakery on the corner. Then she compounded her crime by charging $2.50 for each pre- sliced portion. How was I suppose to afford two-fitty on my allowance?
I stood transfixed loking at the cake when I walked into her shop to buy an almond cookie for a paltry fifty cents. The cake, rather each slice called out my name in demonic seductiveness.
I recited every prayer of exorcism my Catholic training could muster. Unfortunately, to no avail. Finally I gave in. I was inspired by the Dark Lord to ask Mrs. Johanson to get a lemon fudge cookie, which I knew she stored in a back room. As she went to fetch the ruse, I quickly snagged a slice of cake and shoved it almost whole into my mouth.
Oh, the delicious pleasure. I had just about licked the last bit from my fingers, when a startled Mrs. J returned.
'Oh my Gawd! I hope you have $3.00 to cover the cost of the cake and the cookie?'
'What cake?', I exclaimed defensively.
'The cake which left the frosting on your nose.', she retorted.
Busted! 'I don't have $3.00. I only have seventy-five cents', I said ashamed, even as Lucifer whispered in my ear about my auntie's pills.
'It's my hypoglycemia. It screws up my thinking, if I don't have frequent meals of chocolate.'
I can still picture the veins in Mrs. J's neck bulging, as she turned red and her cheeks puffed up. She wasn't angry. She was trying to suppress a laugh. As her resolve crumbled, she convulsed into whatevere that would have been which would have rivaled Santa.
I don't know if it was the strength of my pleading, or that which grandma called my "nine year old's precious cuteness", in any event, Mrs. Johanson took my seveny-five cents and didn't tell my mother.
It was partly Mrs. Johanson's fault, too. She had the gall to put a chocolate icing, Devil's Food cake, right at counter level in her bakery on the corner. Then she compounded her crime by charging $2.50 for each pre- sliced portion. How was I suppose to afford two-fitty on my allowance?
I stood transfixed loking at the cake when I walked into her shop to buy an almond cookie for a paltry fifty cents. The cake, rather each slice called out my name in demonic seductiveness.
I recited every prayer of exorcism my Catholic training could muster. Unfortunately, to no avail. Finally I gave in. I was inspired by the Dark Lord to ask Mrs. Johanson to get a lemon fudge cookie, which I knew she stored in a back room. As she went to fetch the ruse, I quickly snagged a slice of cake and shoved it almost whole into my mouth.
Oh, the delicious pleasure. I had just about licked the last bit from my fingers, when a startled Mrs. J returned.
'Oh my Gawd! I hope you have $3.00 to cover the cost of the cake and the cookie?'
'What cake?', I exclaimed defensively.
'The cake which left the frosting on your nose.', she retorted.
Busted! 'I don't have $3.00. I only have seventy-five cents', I said ashamed, even as Lucifer whispered in my ear about my auntie's pills.
'It's my hypoglycemia. It screws up my thinking, if I don't have frequent meals of chocolate.'
I can still picture the veins in Mrs. J's neck bulging, as she turned red and her cheeks puffed up. She wasn't angry. She was trying to suppress a laugh. As her resolve crumbled, she convulsed into whatevere that would have been which would have rivaled Santa.
I don't know if it was the strength of my pleading, or that which grandma called my "nine year old's precious cuteness", in any event, Mrs. Johanson took my seveny-five cents and didn't tell my mother.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Old people in new cars
by Victor Om Shanti
Old people in new cars
Driving down the highway
Of love this far.
Thinking 'bout the back in day
And how they begun
When they were
Young people, in old cars.
Mama was a debutante
Just sixteen
In a shaky jalopy
Old enough to be her dad
Driving in the rain
Feeling so sad
When she picked up a boy
Who'd make her heart glad.
Old people in new cars
Driving down the highway
Of love this far.
Thinking 'bout the back in day
And how they begun
When they were
Young people, in old cars.
The road wasn't always straight
It had curves and hills
With constant construction
Sometimes a battle of wills
They sometimes took a detour
But never strayed too far
Now their old people in new cars.
Old people in new cars
Driving down the highway
Of love this far.
Thinking 'bout the back in day
And how they begun
When they were
Young people, in old cars.
Into the sunset
Papa's hand firmly on the wheel
Mama's head on his shoulder
Remembering the feel of
Brushing back his hair
When they laid under stars,
honky-tonks, stolen kisses,
movie shows and bars
Now, she's glancing out the window
At themselves long ago,
When they were
young people in old cars.
Old people in new cars
Driving down the highway
Of love this far.
Thinking 'bout the back in day
And how they begun
When they were
Young people, in old cars.
Old people in new cars
Driving down the highway
Of love this far.
Thinking 'bout the back in day
And how they begun
When they were
Young people, in old cars.
Mama was a debutante
Just sixteen
In a shaky jalopy
Old enough to be her dad
Driving in the rain
Feeling so sad
When she picked up a boy
Who'd make her heart glad.
Old people in new cars
Driving down the highway
Of love this far.
Thinking 'bout the back in day
And how they begun
When they were
Young people, in old cars.
The road wasn't always straight
It had curves and hills
With constant construction
Sometimes a battle of wills
They sometimes took a detour
But never strayed too far
Now their old people in new cars.
Old people in new cars
Driving down the highway
Of love this far.
Thinking 'bout the back in day
And how they begun
When they were
Young people, in old cars.
Into the sunset
Papa's hand firmly on the wheel
Mama's head on his shoulder
Remembering the feel of
Brushing back his hair
When they laid under stars,
honky-tonks, stolen kisses,
movie shows and bars
Now, she's glancing out the window
At themselves long ago,
When they were
young people in old cars.
Old people in new cars
Driving down the highway
Of love this far.
Thinking 'bout the back in day
And how they begun
When they were
Young people, in old cars.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
When I searched for you.
by Victor Shanti
Some would think me profligrate
Because of all the surrogates
I took in search of you.
In some I saw your face and hair
Others had your laughing smile
But my darling all the while
I was in search of you.
Forgive me if I failed to find
the Holy Grail I held in mind
When, Oh! the pints of blood I drew
as obstacles I had to climb
gave way to cast me into slime
bound my resolve, besot my mind
When I searched for you.
Some would think me profligrate
Because of all the surrogates
I took in search of you.
In some I saw your face and hair
Others had your laughing smile
But my darling all the while
I was in search of you.
Forgive me if I failed to find
the Holy Grail I held in mind
When, Oh! the pints of blood I drew
as obstacles I had to climb
gave way to cast me into slime
bound my resolve, besot my mind
When I searched for you.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Shiver
by Marie Delgado Travis
Snowflake
on my window sill
Shimmers briefly
and
fades --
Like your caress
Snowflake
on my window sill
Shimmers briefly
and
fades --
Like your caress
Sunday, July 10, 2005
TIME CHANGES PRAYERS
In the latter half of my first decade
My lip would droop forlorn
When mother commanded
That I rise up
Early in the morn
"It's too early",
I'd protest,
"for me to get up now."
Engulfed in fear
That I'd lose some sleep
To heaven I would pray,
"Just this once, Lord, let me lay down late,
and not get up so early in the day."
At evening's wane
"To bed" commanded
I would dismiss
When best T.V.
I feared I'd miss.
Against my protests
No matter what I said
Mom would tell me
It was time for bed.
Night after night
Heavenward, my refrain,
"Just this once, Lord, let me stay up late."
Now it's the second half of my century of years
My pleadings have changed along with my fears
A time has arrived that when my lover so dear
Wearing nothing but pearls and a sensuous curl
At the midnight hour bids me to bed
When I sorely dread that my troop might droop
That sleep might creep
That her slide may not glide
It is then I remember what in childhood I said,
"Just this once, Lord, let me get up early
And stay up late."
My lip would droop forlorn
When mother commanded
That I rise up
Early in the morn
"It's too early",
I'd protest,
"for me to get up now."
Engulfed in fear
That I'd lose some sleep
To heaven I would pray,
"Just this once, Lord, let me lay down late,
and not get up so early in the day."
At evening's wane
"To bed" commanded
I would dismiss
When best T.V.
I feared I'd miss.
Against my protests
No matter what I said
Mom would tell me
It was time for bed.
Night after night
Heavenward, my refrain,
"Just this once, Lord, let me stay up late."
Now it's the second half of my century of years
My pleadings have changed along with my fears
A time has arrived that when my lover so dear
Wearing nothing but pearls and a sensuous curl
At the midnight hour bids me to bed
When I sorely dread that my troop might droop
That sleep might creep
That her slide may not glide
It is then I remember what in childhood I said,
"Just this once, Lord, let me get up early
And stay up late."
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Tonight
by Marie Delgado Travis
I ended the day in
Complete frustration.
Unable to penetrate
Petrified heads,
Desiccated hearts.
Then, all at once...
Rage turned inward...
Depression to thoughts
Of drinking myself numb.
Ending life's struggles
Once and for all.
Tonight,
Lord Jesus,
I let myself simply
Rest in You.
And in Your
Comfort,
Blessed
All the pain
and hurt
I felt today.
I ended the day in
Complete frustration.
Unable to penetrate
Petrified heads,
Desiccated hearts.
Then, all at once...
Rage turned inward...
Depression to thoughts
Of drinking myself numb.
Ending life's struggles
Once and for all.
Tonight,
Lord Jesus,
I let myself simply
Rest in You.
And in Your
Comfort,
Blessed
All the pain
and hurt
I felt today.
Friday, July 08, 2005
London - 7/7/05
by Marie Delgado Travis
You pop a vitamin
Every morning,
Eat the right foods,
Exercise regularly,
Work hard to support your family,
Attend church on Sundays,
... do all the right things.
But how do you keep from
Being blown up by your local
friendly neighborhood jihadist?
Obviously, you can't reason with him.
Fact is Osama has18 children
And not one of them
Has blown him or herself up.
They're all in hiding
(with their millions)
Precisely to avoid a
Martyr's death. Pity.
It's enough to raise
A red flag to anyone
Preparing to don a jacket
Filled with explosives.
Indeed, why you?
You eat the right foods,
Exercise regularly,
Attend mosque on Fridays..."
You pop a vitamin
Every morning,
Eat the right foods,
Exercise regularly,
Work hard to support your family,
Attend church on Sundays,
... do all the right things.
But how do you keep from
Being blown up by your local
friendly neighborhood jihadist?
Obviously, you can't reason with him.
Fact is Osama has18 children
And not one of them
Has blown him or herself up.
They're all in hiding
(with their millions)
Precisely to avoid a
Martyr's death. Pity.
It's enough to raise
A red flag to anyone
Preparing to don a jacket
Filled with explosives.
Indeed, why you?
You eat the right foods,
Exercise regularly,
Attend mosque on Fridays..."
Will You Support, Sir, Our Movement For A-Peace-ment?
July 7, 2005 (AP) Ziad al-Khasawneh, an Arab nationalist who has often expressed support for Iraqi resistance, and Saddam Hussein's chief lawyer quit the Iraqi dictator's Jordan-based legal team, saying some of the team's American members were trying to control the defense and tone down his criticism of the U.S. presence in Iraq. Saddam's legal team includes 1,500 volunteers and at least 22 lead lawyers who come from several countries, including the United States, France, Jordan, Iraq and Libya. Among the Americans on the team are former U.S. attorney general Ramsey Clark.
Raghad, Saddam.'s eldest daughter, favors the Americans and non-Arabs on the team "because she thinks they will win the case and free her father," he said.
I’m normally not one to endorse,
but this one sounds
like a worthwhile course
Let‘s bombard the Congress with bombastic email.
We’ll be able to make a difference
Then peace will prevail.
I’ve pondered your offer ... yet,
Its simplistic seductive attraction,
I must resist.
I proffer that peace does not exist
In a vacuum of moral action.
Peace is not simply
the absence of war.
Peace which propagates the multiplication of weapons of crass perception,
Peace which propagates the multiplication of weapons of mass deception,
Peace which propagates the multiplication of weapons of mock instruction,
Peace which propagates the multiplication of weapons of mass destruction,
Peace which condones by appeasement
Is not peace, but violence by other means.
A dispensation for Hussein’s bloviations
Is a turning of the same blind eye nodded and winked
towards that National Socialist guy's blatant
disregard of demands by the League of Nations
The terms of surrender in the Treaty of Versailles.
I can’t believe it. I thought you so bright.
Now, I hear you say this movement’s not right
Anyway, perhaps you've misunderstood/ misinterpreted something.
It didn't feel good to me to read what appeared to me as deliberately hurtful sounds.
For your injured feelings
Shed crocodile tears
For this is the reality heard felt
In Iraqi ears
On 3rd June 1987
the Iraqi proconsul signed a personal directive,
declaring a zone with
more than a thousand Kurds’
villages, livestock, and folks,
to be an area prohibited,
from which all human life
(and, I know you’ll grieve for this, all animal life)
was to be eradicated.
"It is totally prohibited for any foodstuffs or persons or machinery to reach" ,
he preached to his henchmen,
the villages that have been banned for security reasons."
"Concerning the harvest, it must be finished before July 15th,
... after this year, farming will not be authorized in this region...
The armed forces must kill any human being
or animal present within these areas."
So precedent to your noble goals in full gear,
Obscured by anti-presidential posturing
With nefarious political roles
there have been 400,000 Kurdish deaths in fifteen years.
So when it comes to sounds,
I hear the sounds of raped women
whimpering muffled moans
screaming in the night.
I hear the swishing sounds of the bloodied scimitar
beheading hapless widows
the sounds of warm arterial blood
garden hose gush splushing
drowning the heckling of anti-president mob.
I cannot sound blot the crying babies' borborygmy of starvation
even not drowned out by the mindless shouts
of one million pro-appeasement activists.
I hear the silence of lambs
slaughtered by the pitter-patter
of yellow rain on nursery windowpane.
Too clearly I hear the sounds
Of voices of opposition raised
Solely for crass political gain.
So I cannot support the petition
You propound,
But perhaps, you've heard a different sound.
20030225
Raghad, Saddam.'s eldest daughter, favors the Americans and non-Arabs on the team "because she thinks they will win the case and free her father," he said.
I’m normally not one to endorse,
but this one sounds
like a worthwhile course
Let‘s bombard the Congress with bombastic email.
We’ll be able to make a difference
Then peace will prevail.
I’ve pondered your offer ... yet,
Its simplistic seductive attraction,
I must resist.
I proffer that peace does not exist
In a vacuum of moral action.
Peace is not simply
the absence of war.
Peace which propagates the multiplication of weapons of crass perception,
Peace which propagates the multiplication of weapons of mass deception,
Peace which propagates the multiplication of weapons of mock instruction,
Peace which propagates the multiplication of weapons of mass destruction,
Peace which condones by appeasement
Is not peace, but violence by other means.
A dispensation for Hussein’s bloviations
Is a turning of the same blind eye nodded and winked
towards that National Socialist guy's blatant
disregard of demands by the League of Nations
The terms of surrender in the Treaty of Versailles.
I can’t believe it. I thought you so bright.
Now, I hear you say this movement’s not right
Anyway, perhaps you've misunderstood/ misinterpreted something.
It didn't feel good to me to read what appeared to me as deliberately hurtful sounds.
For your injured feelings
Shed crocodile tears
For this is the reality heard felt
In Iraqi ears
On 3rd June 1987
the Iraqi proconsul signed a personal directive,
declaring a zone with
more than a thousand Kurds’
villages, livestock, and folks,
to be an area prohibited,
from which all human life
(and, I know you’ll grieve for this, all animal life)
was to be eradicated.
"It is totally prohibited for any foodstuffs or persons or machinery to reach" ,
he preached to his henchmen,
the villages that have been banned for security reasons."
"Concerning the harvest, it must be finished before July 15th,
... after this year, farming will not be authorized in this region...
The armed forces must kill any human being
or animal present within these areas."
So precedent to your noble goals in full gear,
Obscured by anti-presidential posturing
With nefarious political roles
there have been 400,000 Kurdish deaths in fifteen years.
So when it comes to sounds,
I hear the sounds of raped women
whimpering muffled moans
screaming in the night.
I hear the swishing sounds of the bloodied scimitar
beheading hapless widows
the sounds of warm arterial blood
garden hose gush splushing
drowning the heckling of anti-president mob.
I cannot sound blot the crying babies' borborygmy of starvation
even not drowned out by the mindless shouts
of one million pro-appeasement activists.
I hear the silence of lambs
slaughtered by the pitter-patter
of yellow rain on nursery windowpane.
Too clearly I hear the sounds
Of voices of opposition raised
Solely for crass political gain.
So I cannot support the petition
You propound,
But perhaps, you've heard a different sound.
20030225
Thursday, July 07, 2005
A Prayer Prior to Shock and Awe
Today, July 7, 2005, those forces which have declared war on Western Civilization struck the heart of Britain, the center of the City of London. I have already heard, prior to the recovery of the remains of the last proletariat corpse from "the Tube", the willingly duped allies of those pig-blood stained miscreants raising their voices in defeatist self-recrimination. Since they bleat without clear direction, I offer them to revise to their current requirements the prayer I composed for them, when prior to former decisive action by the righteous, they raised the same tenor of hue and cry:
O Lord, as we bow our heads before thee,
On this memorial of the slaughter,
By poisonous gas,
5000 children,
women,
and men
in Halabja, Iraq,
Grant us, O Lord, the courage,
That we,
Who suffered no losses of loved ones,
Who on that day,
and even today,
Were, and are, ignorant of its horrors,
Will be able to turn the other cheek,
Revealing, O Lord, our blind eye to their
Continued suffering,
So that it will not weigh upon us.
In your name, Jesus Buddha Allah,
Let us at the gates of Hell,
Pause,
Close our eyes,
Stop our ears,
Place a sweet lozenge,
in our mouths to quench.
Before we fall down,
Grant us O Lord,
To fill our pockets full of posies
Strip endless gravesites of their roses
Fragrantly dispelling the stench
from our noses
Let us on the eve of destruction,
Ignore the Kurds and weigh their plight
Against the measure of our comfortable delights
In peril of disruption
As we talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
Allow us, Heavenly Mother Father,
The dispensation,
To hope against hope,
That with one more resolve to put forth a resolution,
We will not be swallowed into the maw,
Of the coming, inevitable, conflagration.
Ah! Men.
20030318
O Lord, as we bow our heads before thee,
On this memorial of the slaughter,
By poisonous gas,
5000 children,
women,
and men
in Halabja, Iraq,
Grant us, O Lord, the courage,
That we,
Who suffered no losses of loved ones,
Who on that day,
and even today,
Were, and are, ignorant of its horrors,
Will be able to turn the other cheek,
Revealing, O Lord, our blind eye to their
Continued suffering,
So that it will not weigh upon us.
In your name, Jesus Buddha Allah,
Let us at the gates of Hell,
Pause,
Close our eyes,
Stop our ears,
Place a sweet lozenge,
in our mouths to quench.
Before we fall down,
Grant us O Lord,
To fill our pockets full of posies
Strip endless gravesites of their roses
Fragrantly dispelling the stench
from our noses
Let us on the eve of destruction,
Ignore the Kurds and weigh their plight
Against the measure of our comfortable delights
In peril of disruption
As we talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
Allow us, Heavenly Mother Father,
The dispensation,
To hope against hope,
That with one more resolve to put forth a resolution,
We will not be swallowed into the maw,
Of the coming, inevitable, conflagration.
Ah! Men.
20030318
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
The Berkeley Spur Incident
The shaft was deep in Gallo Mine
That night disaster struck
And whether fate or destiny
The foreman's "Wha da fuck?"
Gave portent to
the impotence of
the vital hydraulic line
that from the start
had bored so deep
a major vein was hit
Where in the past "Eureka!" moans
Succumbed to panicky "Oh Shit!"s
Out of the North without the prick of sensors placed to feel,
all hands turned out to probe about the softened entrance seal.
When at first the Klaxon's blare eclipsed the proclamation,
A quick repeat was heard to be a forlorn exclamation,
"Peter's in there yet!"
Is this the end
of our hero friend
blunted in his prime?
Will yet again he rise to send
a fecund message home?
to mine as yore precious ore
Which gave his master bliss?
'Twas not the time to
run amok
because he'd lost his head.
Though when stripped of what
he considered wealth,
he'd rather wake up dead.
Save, instead, your Confederates, boy,
For the South shall rise again.
January 31, 1999
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Menu
by Marie Delgado Travis
You want me to reach
deep inside and
pull out "stuff"
for your consumption,
Without revealing
anything of your own.
To pour my guts out,
entertainingly,
between your
tomato basil soup
and cappucino.
Stand before you
dishing out portions
of my soul,
while you say,
"Pass the salt" and
"Check please"
Applaud lightly
and walk out,
just as I get to
the part where
I really hurt.
You want me to reach
deep inside and
pull out "stuff"
for your consumption,
Without revealing
anything of your own.
To pour my guts out,
entertainingly,
between your
tomato basil soup
and cappucino.
Stand before you
dishing out portions
of my soul,
while you say,
"Pass the salt" and
"Check please"
Applaud lightly
and walk out,
just as I get to
the part where
I really hurt.
Monday, July 04, 2005
New Millennium Pledge
I pledge allegiance
To the dream
Of a united state called America
And to a republic
Which would stand for
Liberty and justice for all.
I pledge allegiance
To the land
In a united fate called America
And to a democracy
Whose sands are wet
With the blood of patriots
of every race, creed and sex
I pledge allegiance
To the cause
In a united love called America
In whose defense
Freedom passes the torch
To succeeding generations
I pledge allegiance to the people
In a melting pot called America
And to the notion on which it stands
One nation, unicultural,
Multi-passioned,
Promising the opportunity,
Of prosperity,
For all.
To the dream
Of a united state called America
And to a republic
Which would stand for
Liberty and justice for all.
I pledge allegiance
To the land
In a united fate called America
And to a democracy
Whose sands are wet
With the blood of patriots
of every race, creed and sex
I pledge allegiance
To the cause
In a united love called America
In whose defense
Freedom passes the torch
To succeeding generations
I pledge allegiance to the people
In a melting pot called America
And to the notion on which it stands
One nation, unicultural,
Multi-passioned,
Promising the opportunity,
Of prosperity,
For all.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Flies In the Face Of Security
"Close the door, you'll let in the flies."
It was too late. A passing breeze, leaf litter, or God knows what, had already spooked the swarm of mosca verde (the common green housefly, to the non-scientific tormented) into a funnel cloud that headed for the open screen door like a tornado to a mobilehome park.
I had been sitting on the porch steps watching them partying on a heaping mound of why the hell didn't she curb her dog or use a pooper-scooper. I was thinking that some forensic bug-spert could tell me the exact moment to the second when the pile was placed. Just then, the signal, known only to the flies, was given to evacuate.
I tried to swing the door shut, but between the quickness of their reflexes and the gaps in the thin screen mesh, more than half of the horde infiltrated the pristine security of our home.
"Shouldn't we cover the food, Ma?"
The flies buzzed and lit where they willed. Some found their way atop the piping hot roast, others made a beeline for the gravy made from the cream of the pan drippings. Most, first, politely wiped their multiple feet of the debris of their last resting place, on the welcome mat, Mom's oven-fresh Parker House rolls.
The one who sought rest on my sister's nose, unexpectedly, got it, eternally. So strong was her knee-jerk smack upon the place of its repose, she bloodied her own nose.
"I'll just kill 'em. Where's the spray. Afterall, it was contaminated food that carried Uncle Tommy away just a year ago, last week."
"Whoa, quick-draw!", I heard Mom say. "You know even flies have a place in the cosmic order. You don't..."
I dunno what else; I wasn't listening. I was heading for the utility room next to the living room where Dad was watching the 24-hour news station.
Today, the President made his strongest statements, ever, demanding, that the Moroni government of Sodom Biscayne destroy all of its weapons of mass destruction, or face all-out war, that if the U.N. can't form a coalition to prevent the proliferation of nuclear, chemical, biological weapons, this nation would act unilaterally.
"What's all that racket in there, I can barely hear the news."
"Mom, doesn't want me to spray a bunch of flies flying around the dinner table."
"Well, I don't want you spraying around my food, either."
Many members of Congress, some within the president's own party, question whether methods other than military intervention might be used. As Majority Leader, Senator Tim Miditty (Dem, S.D.) stated, "I'm just afraid of the collateral damage to ourselves and our allies, if such a direct method is employed."
"Do you want fly footprints in your mashed potatoes, Dad?"
"It's not a matter of fly footprints. I don't want to eat the pesta-junk in bug spray."
"Dude, I don't want to eat behind flies. Do you know that to eat something new, they vomit up the contents of what they previously ate, then suck the whole pre-digested mess back up?! That's probably what killed Uncle Tom."
The president countered his critics stating that President Biscayne had already established himself a clear and present danger to the security of this nation, since he has frequently shown no hesitation in using chemical and bio-warfare agents on his own countrymen.
"That's just a little more info than I need, son. Besides, we're not entirely sure which type of food poisoning killed your uncle. Maybe you should study the problem from a different angle."
"Ah, here is a different angle - a fly-swatter.", I said, as I ran back into the dining room. I arrived in time to witness a conjugal pair, in the midst of their romantic throes, drown in my milk glass. That was the final straw.
"Okay, I won't spray, y'all, but the entire area from here to the salad is my personal no-fly zone. Any creature that ventures south of the butter, is dead meat."
"Hey, Sis, see if you can find a rolled-up newspaper. You can hit 'em from the other end of the table."
"Wait.", my sister bleated. "Shouldn't we see if we can get a family consensus, first? If Mom and Dad agree that we should spray, or smack them, then I'll consider it."
By this time, the marshmallows on the sweet-potato casserole looked like a fly convention venue. I made an effete swipe with my fly-swatter, over the mob. They dispersed briefly but quickly re-grouped, apparently at the urging of the featured speaker.
"Enough, already, I've had it. I don't care what the rest of you decide. One more fly within my no-fly zone, I'm swatting, spraying, and hanging sticky paper."
It was too late. A passing breeze, leaf litter, or God knows what, had already spooked the swarm of mosca verde (the common green housefly, to the non-scientific tormented) into a funnel cloud that headed for the open screen door like a tornado to a mobilehome park.
I had been sitting on the porch steps watching them partying on a heaping mound of why the hell didn't she curb her dog or use a pooper-scooper. I was thinking that some forensic bug-spert could tell me the exact moment to the second when the pile was placed. Just then, the signal, known only to the flies, was given to evacuate.
I tried to swing the door shut, but between the quickness of their reflexes and the gaps in the thin screen mesh, more than half of the horde infiltrated the pristine security of our home.
"Shouldn't we cover the food, Ma?"
The flies buzzed and lit where they willed. Some found their way atop the piping hot roast, others made a beeline for the gravy made from the cream of the pan drippings. Most, first, politely wiped their multiple feet of the debris of their last resting place, on the welcome mat, Mom's oven-fresh Parker House rolls.
The one who sought rest on my sister's nose, unexpectedly, got it, eternally. So strong was her knee-jerk smack upon the place of its repose, she bloodied her own nose.
"I'll just kill 'em. Where's the spray. Afterall, it was contaminated food that carried Uncle Tommy away just a year ago, last week."
"Whoa, quick-draw!", I heard Mom say. "You know even flies have a place in the cosmic order. You don't..."
I dunno what else; I wasn't listening. I was heading for the utility room next to the living room where Dad was watching the 24-hour news station.
Today, the President made his strongest statements, ever, demanding, that the Moroni government of Sodom Biscayne destroy all of its weapons of mass destruction, or face all-out war, that if the U.N. can't form a coalition to prevent the proliferation of nuclear, chemical, biological weapons, this nation would act unilaterally.
"What's all that racket in there, I can barely hear the news."
"Mom, doesn't want me to spray a bunch of flies flying around the dinner table."
"Well, I don't want you spraying around my food, either."
Many members of Congress, some within the president's own party, question whether methods other than military intervention might be used. As Majority Leader, Senator Tim Miditty (Dem, S.D.) stated, "I'm just afraid of the collateral damage to ourselves and our allies, if such a direct method is employed."
"Do you want fly footprints in your mashed potatoes, Dad?"
"It's not a matter of fly footprints. I don't want to eat the pesta-junk in bug spray."
"Dude, I don't want to eat behind flies. Do you know that to eat something new, they vomit up the contents of what they previously ate, then suck the whole pre-digested mess back up?! That's probably what killed Uncle Tom."
The president countered his critics stating that President Biscayne had already established himself a clear and present danger to the security of this nation, since he has frequently shown no hesitation in using chemical and bio-warfare agents on his own countrymen.
"That's just a little more info than I need, son. Besides, we're not entirely sure which type of food poisoning killed your uncle. Maybe you should study the problem from a different angle."
"Ah, here is a different angle - a fly-swatter.", I said, as I ran back into the dining room. I arrived in time to witness a conjugal pair, in the midst of their romantic throes, drown in my milk glass. That was the final straw.
"Okay, I won't spray, y'all, but the entire area from here to the salad is my personal no-fly zone. Any creature that ventures south of the butter, is dead meat."
"Hey, Sis, see if you can find a rolled-up newspaper. You can hit 'em from the other end of the table."
"Wait.", my sister bleated. "Shouldn't we see if we can get a family consensus, first? If Mom and Dad agree that we should spray, or smack them, then I'll consider it."
By this time, the marshmallows on the sweet-potato casserole looked like a fly convention venue. I made an effete swipe with my fly-swatter, over the mob. They dispersed briefly but quickly re-grouped, apparently at the urging of the featured speaker.
"Enough, already, I've had it. I don't care what the rest of you decide. One more fly within my no-fly zone, I'm swatting, spraying, and hanging sticky paper."
Saturday, July 02, 2005
MaxSecure
I fear my neighbor
My neighbor fears me
I could walk over
Extend my hand
Share a beer
or three
Get to know him
So he'll know me
But I would rather
Have a cop
Fingerprint,
Grille,
And servaille him
He the same with me
My neighbor likes to walk around
And drive his car on whim
But he could plant a bomb
You see
Such lowers my security
So I require my government
To keep him under lock and key
Within the walls of tenement
Sure he's permitted the liberty
To defecate sans prior consent
If on demand he can present
Valid current photo I.D.
If he wants a loaf of bread
He only needs submit
A document three days before
Which will be duly viewed
His alleged need,
Sifted, spindled, rolled and diced
Must be prior approved
Before the ham and cheese
On separate forms
Will be given heed.
Friday, July 01, 2005
To The Museum Of Freedom
by Victor Om Shanti
To the Museum of Freedom
I take my son
That he might glean for himself
The anachronism called fun.
That algae tinged bottle
Perched high on a shelf
Is the last vial of pond water
(I trapped it myself)
In which folks
Would swim bare
Well, my gawd, look over here!
A box full of air
Once laugh expelled in glee
As they dared to tell jokes
Way before the day
When security cams
Made clothing required
Or the contents of humor
Became legally mired.
I want him to see
The exhibit of sand
From beaches of old
That used to be grand
When a guy and his date
Could hoist a bottle of beer
Without the risk
Of being jailed for a year
I'll show him that showplace
And so much more
Once our visas are stamped
And our I.D.'s are sealed
In protective shrink wrap
Latex barriered from strife
Like our modern souls..
Safe, secure, and,
Filleted of all life.
To the Museum of Freedom
I take my son
That he might glean for himself
The anachronism called fun.
That algae tinged bottle
Perched high on a shelf
Is the last vial of pond water
(I trapped it myself)
In which folks
Would swim bare
Well, my gawd, look over here!
A box full of air
Once laugh expelled in glee
As they dared to tell jokes
Way before the day
When security cams
Made clothing required
Or the contents of humor
Became legally mired.
I want him to see
The exhibit of sand
From beaches of old
That used to be grand
When a guy and his date
Could hoist a bottle of beer
Without the risk
Of being jailed for a year
I'll show him that showplace
And so much more
Once our visas are stamped
And our I.D.'s are sealed
In protective shrink wrap
Latex barriered from strife
Like our modern souls..
Safe, secure, and,
Filleted of all life.
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