11.20.2014
Article. President obama, the 1 good man in washington, on immigration reform. "The administration is operating within its authority to advance the moral and economic interests of our country, and while we stand ready to defend this program, we must also be clear that it is only a first step. Unfortunately, more than half of those who currently lack legal protections will remain vulnerable to wage theft, retaliation and other forms of exploitation. In addition, we are concerned by the president's concession to corporate demands for even greater access to temporary visas that will allow the continued suppression of wages in the tech sector." — Richard Trumka, AFL-CIO president
***** vid. The nazis kills my family long ago and now their deaths are being just to justify the extermination of Palestinians.
Having much trouble uploading this video. It is an important one so I will persist. Will be sure it is up by this weekend. Check back.
posted from Bloggeroid
pic. To all the United States liberals morning the fact that Palestinians can't get along with Israelis: You are right, it is so sad. Just like it was so sad that the American Indians couldn't get along with the white European colonialists of their time as they were being exterminated from a population of 50 million down to several hundred thousand, as they and their children were being humiliated every single second everyday, as 99 percent of their land was being stolen and they were being herded onto barely livable areas.... I don't understand why the Palestinians can't just get along. You are so correct.
nd. Sister, I do not know what connections you may have, I have virtually none. Please consider what you might do to help instigate a campaign with the organization Media Matters to get them involved in highlighting the grotesque imbalance in coverage of Palestine Israel. It might be that PolitiFact should also be targeted. I am sowing the idea in the few places I can. Please do the same.
Sister, I do not know what connections you may have, I have virtually none. Please consider what you might do to help instigate a campaign with the organization Media Matters to get them involved in highlighting the grotesque imbalance in coverage of Palestine Israel. It might be that PolitiFact should also be targeted. I am sowing the idea in the few places I can. Please do the same.
posted from Bloggeroid
11.19.2014
nd. I was so cold today I hurt. I'm sure I was clinically hypothermic. I've been inside for several hours now with all my outside clothes on and am just now getting to feel warm. Physically, it was horrible being out there today. It is really painful and upsetting to be that cold. Yet I find that all I can think about is getting out there again tomorrow morning for the last day in 2 weeks congress will be in session.
I was so cold today I hurt. I'm sure I was clinically hypothermic. I've been inside for several hours now with all my outside clothes on and am just now getting to feel warm. Physically, it was horrible being out there today. It is really painful and upsetting to be that cold. Yet I find that all I can think about is getting out there again tomorrow morning for the last day in 2 weeks congress will be in session.
posted from Bloggeroid
Detail. Regarding Mr Williams: I am crying as I type this. I think some of that is the cold. I've probably then out in this a bit longer than I should. But Congress does not slither by for another hour so I will be here... Click link for detail
Regarding Mr Williams: I am crying as I type this. I think some of that is the cold. I've probably then out in this a bit longer than I should. I am hypothermic now. But Congress does not slither by for another hour so I will be here.
In the homeless shelter where I sleep, so that I can do this work with my every breath for Palestine, there are two hundred and fifty men on this 50 and older floor. It is all open except for three quarter length walls that divide us into cubes they are called. Each cube is further divided about 10 men on one side and 6 men on the other. I sleep by the dividing wall that separates the two portions of our cube. I am on a lower bunk.
There is a fair degree of turnover in the shelter. About a month ago the bunk kitty corner from mine in the adjacent part of the cube became empty. And several days later the new occupant arrived, Mr Williams. Every 10 days the occupants of each cube in rotation are assigned a detail it is called, a chore that takes 10 minutes or so to keep the shelter in order. That day after we do our detail is also when we can have our laundry washed and dried and stuffed immediately back into a laundry bag so that it is totally wrinkled.
I'm so grateful that Mr Williams, probably my age early sixties, a small man, black of course, and as gentle and nice a man as I can ever recall encountering, it was the day before his first detail day and he heard about laundry being done but he did not understand all the particulars so he gently and shyly approached me, I think I had a grocery bag in a hand from some donations I picked up at a coffee shop to donate to the guys in the shelter. He rightly judged that I was going to discard the bag and he asked if he could have it for the laundry. I said sure. We need to write our names on a piece of paper and put it inside the bag but, I forget just how he asked the question, he asked I think if I had a pen to write his name on the bag. At least that's what I understood him to ask. I searched in my backpack and found a marking pen. As I type this I am in tears again, will you write my name on the bag please, he ever so politely asked. He does not know how to write. Sure, I answered, so grateful to be able to help, so grateful he trusted to ask me, so outraged at us all for allowing such neglect of our brothers and sisters.
I did not know his name at that point so to enable me to write his name he handed me his identity card. It was his card from prison. The only identity this mid-sixties man, so gentle, so respectful, so unassuming, the only identity card he had was a card from prison.
About a week later I was in the large television room where there are wall outlets where I could charge up my batteries and Mr Williams was there. He was walking into the room and he commented to me that he had to go plug in his ankle bracelet or it would go off because it was running out of charge.
I am gone all day most days so I rarely see Mr Williams except when he is going to sleep or already asleep and I am in the process of doing the same. After I realized that this dear soul might be tied to this shelter having just been released from prison I wanted to be in a position to ask him if he needed me to go to the store to get him anything. Finally, the opportunity presented itself. No, he replied I don't need anything. Thank you. Maybe it was later than that day, or soon after, he saw me and said, I don't need you to go to the store, but I wonder if I could borrow 50 cents. I started to hand him 5 dollars and thought better of it, guessing that he might want singles for the various vending machines, so I gratefully handed him four singles. Oh, he said, I will pay you back. No, I said. It is for you. And here are those tears again. Must be the cold.
Today in my half hour ritual of putting on layer upon layer of sweat pants and other stuff I became aware Mr Williams was asking another fellow directions to a bank branch. I am thinking that maybe his time with the ankle bracelet is past. He heard me speaking to another fellow of the fact I would be on Capitol Hill. He asked me directions to his bank and I gladly called it up on my computer and a map. Anyway he cleverly put two and two together, this shy man who seems a bit lost and confused about life, and upon realizing I was headed toward his bank branch asked if he could walk with me so that he would not get lost. I'll be happy to wait while you get ready, he said, seeing that I needed more time to get my warm clothes on. Of course, I said, feeling so honored and blessed that I could offer a little bit of help.
As we walked I guessed he would not mind me asking the question, so I asked, why is a man who is so obviously very nice, why were you in prison? He replied, in my prior homeless shelter I saw a credit card, I thought it had been lost. I used it, it turns out it had been stolen, so I was in prison for 2 years. He said this with no anger, no outrage, no question, no objection.
I sit here on Capitol Hill where the elite scum of the earth walks past. If Mr Williams should be in prison for 2 years for what he did after what we have done to him, so much deprivation, then 100 percent of the Senators, and 100% of the congressman should be in prison, in solitary confinement, tortured, for the rest of their days.
Every once in a while it plays through my mind what interface and interchange I will have with the judge when I am finally in court, prior to prison, for my attempts to reform our deadly and dying culture. It seems extremely likely to me that within moments I will politely and honestly tell the judge, quite possibly before she or he asks, your honor I hold this Court in complete and utter contempt. I hold the United States injustice system in total complete utter contempt with every fiber of my being. No, it was not Mr Williams that caused this in me. What I see every day for many many years has this in me. But my experience with this lovely man just brings it to the front of my mind just now.
And now the Congress creatures begin to slither by. Soon, if I am still mobile, I may be able to stagger back to where there is some warmth. Pray for me. Be a prayer for my family in Palestine.
In the homeless shelter where I sleep, so that I can do this work with my every breath for Palestine, there are two hundred and fifty men on this 50 and older floor. It is all open except for three quarter length walls that divide us into cubes they are called. Each cube is further divided about 10 men on one side and 6 men on the other. I sleep by the dividing wall that separates the two portions of our cube. I am on a lower bunk.
There is a fair degree of turnover in the shelter. About a month ago the bunk kitty corner from mine in the adjacent part of the cube became empty. And several days later the new occupant arrived, Mr Williams. Every 10 days the occupants of each cube in rotation are assigned a detail it is called, a chore that takes 10 minutes or so to keep the shelter in order. That day after we do our detail is also when we can have our laundry washed and dried and stuffed immediately back into a laundry bag so that it is totally wrinkled.
I'm so grateful that Mr Williams, probably my age early sixties, a small man, black of course, and as gentle and nice a man as I can ever recall encountering, it was the day before his first detail day and he heard about laundry being done but he did not understand all the particulars so he gently and shyly approached me, I think I had a grocery bag in a hand from some donations I picked up at a coffee shop to donate to the guys in the shelter. He rightly judged that I was going to discard the bag and he asked if he could have it for the laundry. I said sure. We need to write our names on a piece of paper and put it inside the bag but, I forget just how he asked the question, he asked I think if I had a pen to write his name on the bag. At least that's what I understood him to ask. I searched in my backpack and found a marking pen. As I type this I am in tears again, will you write my name on the bag please, he ever so politely asked. He does not know how to write. Sure, I answered, so grateful to be able to help, so grateful he trusted to ask me, so outraged at us all for allowing such neglect of our brothers and sisters.
I did not know his name at that point so to enable me to write his name he handed me his identity card. It was his card from prison. The only identity this mid-sixties man, so gentle, so respectful, so unassuming, the only identity card he had was a card from prison.
About a week later I was in the large television room where there are wall outlets where I could charge up my batteries and Mr Williams was there. He was walking into the room and he commented to me that he had to go plug in his ankle bracelet or it would go off because it was running out of charge.
I am gone all day most days so I rarely see Mr Williams except when he is going to sleep or already asleep and I am in the process of doing the same. After I realized that this dear soul might be tied to this shelter having just been released from prison I wanted to be in a position to ask him if he needed me to go to the store to get him anything. Finally, the opportunity presented itself. No, he replied I don't need anything. Thank you. Maybe it was later than that day, or soon after, he saw me and said, I don't need you to go to the store, but I wonder if I could borrow 50 cents. I started to hand him 5 dollars and thought better of it, guessing that he might want singles for the various vending machines, so I gratefully handed him four singles. Oh, he said, I will pay you back. No, I said. It is for you. And here are those tears again. Must be the cold.
Today in my half hour ritual of putting on layer upon layer of sweat pants and other stuff I became aware Mr Williams was asking another fellow directions to a bank branch. I am thinking that maybe his time with the ankle bracelet is past. He heard me speaking to another fellow of the fact I would be on Capitol Hill. He asked me directions to his bank and I gladly called it up on my computer and a map. Anyway he cleverly put two and two together, this shy man who seems a bit lost and confused about life, and upon realizing I was headed toward his bank branch asked if he could walk with me so that he would not get lost. I'll be happy to wait while you get ready, he said, seeing that I needed more time to get my warm clothes on. Of course, I said, feeling so honored and blessed that I could offer a little bit of help.
As we walked I guessed he would not mind me asking the question, so I asked, why is a man who is so obviously very nice, why were you in prison? He replied, in my prior homeless shelter I saw a credit card, I thought it had been lost. I used it, it turns out it had been stolen, so I was in prison for 2 years. He said this with no anger, no outrage, no question, no objection.
I sit here on Capitol Hill where the elite scum of the earth walks past. If Mr Williams should be in prison for 2 years for what he did after what we have done to him, so much deprivation, then 100 percent of the Senators, and 100% of the congressman should be in prison, in solitary confinement, tortured, for the rest of their days.
Every once in a while it plays through my mind what interface and interchange I will have with the judge when I am finally in court, prior to prison, for my attempts to reform our deadly and dying culture. It seems extremely likely to me that within moments I will politely and honestly tell the judge, quite possibly before she or he asks, your honor I hold this Court in complete and utter contempt. I hold the United States injustice system in total complete utter contempt with every fiber of my being. No, it was not Mr Williams that caused this in me. What I see every day for many many years has this in me. But my experience with this lovely man just brings it to the front of my mind just now.
And now the Congress creatures begin to slither by. Soon, if I am still mobile, I may be able to stagger back to where there is some warmth. Pray for me. Be a prayer for my family in Palestine.
posted from Bloggeroid
nd. For those of you who do holiday giving please keep in mind the work I do for our family in Palestine. The recent investment in new posters has wiped out my reserves for the $50 per month wifi fee I pay that enables me to do double duty when I keep the posters around the city as I am all day today on Capitol Hill , I do not pay for a phone, and I have no backup funds for when my computer equipment breaks or needs to be replaced. As would be true of any brother with family in emergency, I spend not a dime on my own stupid pleasures, ever. Ever. Ever. Every cent that the creator sends my way goes toward fighting for the least of these our brothers and sisters. For the joy of it.
For those of you who do holiday giving please keep in mind the work I do for our family in Palestine. The recent investment in new posters has wiped out my reserves for the $50 per month wifi fee I pay that enables me to do double duty when I keep the posters around the city as I am all day today on Capitol Hill , I do not pay for a phone, and I have no backup funds for when my computer equipment breaks or needs to be replaced. As would be true of any brother with family in emergency, I spend not a dime on my own stupid pleasures, ever. Ever. Ever. Every cent that the creator sends my way goes toward fighting for the least of these our brothers and sisters. For the joy of it.
posted from Bloggeroid
11.18.2014
Article. Why does Israel lie? Chris Hedges is truly worthy of our respect a former New York Times writer who has paid dearly to tell the truth. All governments lie, as I.F. Stone pointed out, including Israel and Hamas. But Israel engages in the kinds of jaw-dropping lies that characterize despotic and totalitarian regimes. It does not deform the truth; it inverts it. It routinely paints a picture for the outside world that is diametrically opposed to reality. And all of us reporters who have covered the occupied territories have run into Israel’s Alice-in-Wonderland narratives, which we dutifully insert into our stories—required under the rules of American journalism—although we know they are untrue.
***** nd. I am NOT certain that I ever thought to share this before: one of the reasons that I tattooed the core truths of sane human life on my face are because I expect to spend much of my life in prison. I expect that the state, and my fellow Americans, will do that because of my non violent rebellion against the status quo, and for a sane, humane, loving world. . And in prison I did not want them to be able to completely strip me of the ability to broadcast the core truths of human existence . Stop starving. Stop killing. Start loving. Wage love, or die.
I am NOT certain that I ever thought to share this before: one of the reasons that I tattooed the core truths of sane human life on my face are because I expect to spend much of my life in prison. I expect that the state, and my fellow Americans, will do that because of my non violent rebellion against the status quo, and for a sane, humane, loving world. . And in prison I did not want them to be able to completely strip me of the ability to broadcast the core truths of human existence . Stop starving. Stop killing. Start loving. Wage love, or die.
posted from Bloggeroid
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