Guernica

A song from Vietnam. (Iraq the new Vietnam.)

I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin'-to-Die Rag
Joe McDonald (1965)

Well, Come On All Of You, Big Strong Men,
Uncle Sam Needs Your Help Again.
He's Got Himself In A Terrible Jam
Way Down Yonder In Vietnam
So Put Down Your Books And Pick Up A Gun,
We're Gonna Have A Whole Lotta Fun.

And It's One, Two, Three,
What Are We Fighting For ?
Don't Ask Me, I Don't Give A Damn,
Next Stop Is Vietnam;
And It's Five, Six, Seven,
Open Up The Pearly Gates,
Well There Ain't No Time To Wonder Why,
Whoopee! We're All Gonna Die.

Come On Wall Street, Don't Be Slow,
Why Man, This Is War Au-Go-Go
There's Plenty Good Money To Be Made
By Supplying The Army With The Tools Of Its Trade,
But Just Hope And Pray That If They Drop The Bomb,
They Drop It On The Viet Cong.

And It's One, Two, Three,
What Are We Fighting For ?
Don't Ask Me, I Don't Give A Damn,
Next Stop Is Vietnam.
And It's Five, Six, Seven,
Open Up The Pearly Gates,
Well There Ain't No Time To Wonder Why
Whoopee! We're All Gonna Die.

Well, Come On Generals, Let's Move Fast;
Your Big Chance Has Come At Last.
Now You Can Go Out And Get Those Reds
'Cause The Only Good Commie Is The One That's Dead
And You Know That Peace Can Only Be Won
When We've Blown 'Em All To Kingdom Come.

And It's One, Two, Three,
What Are We Fighting For ?
Don't Ask Me, I Don't Give A Damn,
Next Stop Is Vietnam;
And It's Five, Six, Seven,
Open Up The Pearly Gates,
Well There Ain't No Time To Wonder Why
Whoopee! We're All Gonna Die.

Come On Mothers Throughout The Land,
Pack Your Boys Off To Vietnam.
Come On Fathers, And Don't Hesitate
To Send Your Sons Off Before It's Too Late.
And You Can Be The First Ones On Your Block
To Have Your Boy Come Home In A Box.

And It's One, Two, Three
What Are We Fighting For ?
Don't Ask Me, I Don't Give A Damn,
Next Stop Is Vietnam.
And It's Five, Six, Seven,
Open Up The Pearly Gates,
Well There Ain't No Time To Wonder Why,
Whoopee! We're All Gonna Die.

It Better End Soon
Robert Lamm-Terry Kath (1969)

Can't Stand It No More
The People Dying
Crying For Help For So Many Years
But Nobody Hears
Better End Soon My Friend
It Better End Soon My Friend Can't Take It No More
The People Hating
Hurting Their Brothers
They Don't Understand
They Can't Understand
Better End Soon My Friend
It Better End Soon

Hey, Everybody
Won't You Just Look Around
Can't Anybody See
Just What's Going Down
Can't You Take The Time
Just To Feel
Just To Feel What Is Real
If You Do
Then You'll See That We Got A Raw Deal
They're Killing Everybody
They're Killing Me And You
They're Killing Everybody
I Wish It Weren't True
They Say We Got To Make War
Or The Economy Will Fall
But If We Don't Stop
We Won't Be Around No More
They're Ruining This World
For You And Me
The Big Heads Of State
Won't Let Us Be Free
They Made The Rules Once
But It Didn't Work Out
Now We Must Try Again
Before They Kill Us Off
No More Dying!
No More Killing
No More Dying
No More Fighting
We Don't Want To Die
No, We Don't Want To Die
Please Let's Change It All
Please Let's Make It All
Good For The Present
And Better For The Future
Let's Just Love One Another
Let's Show Peace For Each Other
We Can Make It Happen
Let's Just Make It Happen
We Can Change This World
Please Let's Change This World
Please Let's Make It Happen For Our Children
For Our Women
Change The World
Please Make It Happen
Come On
Come On
Please
Come On
It's Up To Me
It's Up To You
So Let's Do It Now
Yeah
Do It Now

Can't Stand It No More
The People Cheating
Burning Each Other
They Know It Ain't Right
How Can It Be Right
Better End Soon My Friend
It Better End Soon My Friend

Anti Bush music here:

http://www.sealionrecords.com/cd-compilation.htm

Anti-war video:

http://www.chrisvalentines.com/projects/USpageintro.html

Mark Twain--"Patriotism is supporting your country all the time and your government when it deserves it."

cost of war in Iraq as of 11:07:30 218,985,880,335

Lives maimed and lost due to irresponsible and unethical lies...
too valuable to give a number.

Monday's Address to the Educational Subcommittee of the New Orleans Planning Commission:

Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen of the Committee and fellow citizens,

Thank you for the opportunity to speak with you tonight. I am a native New Orleanian who has returned a month ago from Austin, Texas where I have lived for the past 10 years. In Austin, I spent a majority of my time designing schools for the Texas Educational System. I am here now to volunteer my experience in successful school design to the Committee and to the children of New Orleans.

I am here to share with the Committee the successful policies and practices of the Texas Education Agency with the hope that we will all look beyond our personal pride and prejudice…to the work of these educators and other successful school systems from around this great Nation and draw upon their experience in design, in curriculum, and in facilities planning to create a system of education that could become not only the model for the State of Louisiana, but the educational foundation for other cities and states within our country.

I am here as an American and as a fellow New Orleanian because, as a great American once said, “I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits.”

As we all know, education is more than teaching children to regurgitate information in order to pass a test…true education is teaching children to think for themselves.

Education begins in the home with a child’s parent or parents. Education continues within the school system with the parent-teacher relationship, moving on to the bond developed between teachers and their students over time, but it does not stop there.

Education is a community effort…one that must be realized and met with commitment and determination by our civic leaders and citizens alike.

Frederick Douglass, the great American writer and orator once said, “It is easier to educate a child than to fix a broken man.”

With this truth I hope that we can all agree.

Let us not debate the failures of the past but look forward to solutions for the future, for it is not only our right but our responsibility to our selves and to our city but most importantly, it is our duty to our greatest natural resource…our heritage…our legacy…our future…the children of New Orleans.

Thank you for your time. I would like to leave you with the TAC 19 Administrative Code for your review and discussion in hopes that we can use this as a basis for a strong and lasting educational foundation for the City of New Orleans.

you forgot .. GIVE ME AN F ..

Anyway, before the war (and actually, every Sunday up to the present), there were a group of antiwar protesters who gathered each Sunday at Green Lake, Seattle. Sometimes it was a few diehards in the heavy rain, other times it would swell - depending on current events.

One day there were not one but TWO different representations of Le Guernica (I have photos, of course).

One recent article detailed massacres and Fallujah was included along with Le Guernica, Mi Lai & others.

Pronoia is the antidote to Paranoia
- received this from a friend at Stanford just yesterday and it's amazing & relevant

A Perfect Moment, by Elizabeth Barret Browning

This is a perfect moment for many reasons, but
especially because you and I are waking up from our sleepwalking, thumb-sucking, dumb clucking collusion with the masters of illusion and destruction.

Thanks to them, from whom the painful blessings flow, we are waking up.

Their wars and tortures,
their crimes against nature,
extinctions of species
and brand new diseases.

Their spying and lying
in the name of the father,
sterilizing seeds and
trademarking water.

Molestations of God,
celebrations of shame,
stealing our dreams and
changing our names.

Their cunning commercials
and blood-sucking hustles,
their endless rehearsals
for the end of the world.

Thanks to them, from whom the awful teachings flow, we are waking up.

Their painful blessings are cracking open more and more gashes in the shrunken and crippled mass
hallucination that is mistakenly called "reality." And through the fractures, ripe eternity is flooding in; news of the soul's true home is pouring in; our allies from the other side of the veil are swarming in, inspiring us to become smarter and wilder and kinder and trickier.

We are waking up.

As heaven and earth come together, as the dream-time and daytime merge, we register the shockingly exhilarating fact that we are in charge of creating a brand new world. Not in some distant time or faraway place, but right here and right now.

As we stand on this brink, as we dance on this verge, we can't let the ruling fools of the dying world sustain their curses. We have to rise up and fight their insane logic, defy, resist and prevent their tragic magic; unleash our sacred rage and supercharge it.

But overthrowing the living dead is not enough.
Protesting the well-dressed monsters is not enough. We can't afford to be consumed with our anger; we can't be obsessed and possessed by their danger. Our mysterious bodies crave delight and fertility. Our boisterous imaginations demand fresh tastes of infinity.

In the new world we're gestating, we need to be
suffused with lusty compassion and ecstatic duty,
ingenious love and insurrectionary beauty. We've got to be teeming with radical curiosity and reverent pranks, voracious listening and ferocious thanks.

So I'm curious, me fellow creators. Since you and I are in charge of making a new world - not just
breaking the old world - where do we begin? What
stories do we want at the heart of our experiments? What questions will be our oracles?

Here's what I say: We will ignore the cult of doom and gloom and embrace the cause of zoom and boom. We will laugh at the stupidity of evil and hate, and summon the brilliance of praise and create. No matter how upside-down it all may temporarily appear, we will have no fear because we know this secret: Life is crazily in love with us - wildly and innocently in love with us. The universe always gives us exactly what we need, exactly when we need it.

Pronoia is our word of power, the spell we cast to shake ourselves awake again and again. It's the antidote for paranoia. It's the brazen perception that all of creation is conspiring to shower us with
blessings.

Pronoia means that even if we can't see and don't
know, primal benefactors are plotting to emancipate us. The winds and tides are on our side, forever and ever. The fire and rain are scheming to steal our pain. The sun and moon know our real names, and the animals pray for us while we are dreaming. Do you believe in guardian angels or divine helpers? Whether you do or not, they're always wangling to give you the gifts you don't even realize you want. Can you guess how many humble humans are busy making things for you
to use and enjoy?

I'm allergic to dogma. I thrive on riddles. Any idea I believe, I reserve the right to disbelieve as well.

But more than any other vision I've ever tested,
pronoia describes the way the world actually is. It's wetter than water, stronger than death, and truer than the news. It smells like cedar smoke in early spring rain, and if you close your eyes right now, you can feel it shimmering like the aurora borealis in your organs and muscles. Its song is your blood song.

Some people argue that life is strife and suffering is normal. Others swear we're born sinful and only heaven can provide us with the peace that passes understanding. But pronoia says that being alive on the rough green and brown earth is the highest honor and privilege. It's an invitation to work wonders and perform miracles that aren't possible in any nirvana, promised land or afterlife.

I'm not exaggerating or indulging in poetic metaphor when I tell you that we are already living in paradise. Visualize if you dare. The sweet stuff that quenches all of our longing is not far away in some other time and place. It's right here and right now.

Remember in Cali when we know for a fact the bastards in control were LETTING the black outs happen..?

What if....

What if those same bastards, or groups of them, had a say in the DELIBERATE lack of rescue in New Orleans..???

We KNOW such conspiracies ALREADY have been played out.

WHY WOULD they have DELIBERATELY DELAYED a rescue to New Orleans???

Oil.

http://www.target.com/exec/obidos/handle-generic-form/${0}/601-2685296-0544150?action=next%2dpage&target=help%2fself%2dservice%2demail%2dform%2ehtml&display=tsq&browse=1041342&method=GET%c2%96TargetStoreQuestions

if you want to email target

opps you wanted us to stay on topic-pls move previous post?

Masters of War
Bob Dylan

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

American Tune

Many's the time I've been mistaken,
and many times confused
Yes, and I've often felt forsaken,
and certainly misused.
Ah, but I'm all right, I'm all right.
I'm just weary to my bones.
Still you don't expect to be bright and bon vivant,
so far away from home,
so far away from home.

And I don't know a soul who's not been battered.
I don't have a friend who feels at ease.
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered,
or driven to its knees.
Ah, but it's all right. It's all right.
For we've lived so well so long.
Still, when I think of the road we're travelin' on,
I wonder what's gone wrong.
I can't help but wonder what's gone wrong.

And I dreamed I was dying.
I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly,
and looking back down at me, smiled reassuringly.
And I dreamed I was flying,
and high up above my eyes could clearly see
the Statue of Liberty sailing away to sea.
And I dreamed I was flying.

And we come on the ship they call the Mayflower.
We come on the ship that sailed the moon.
We come in the age's most uncertain hours,
and sing an American tune.
Oh, and it's all right, it's all right,
it's all right.
You can't be forever blessed.
Still tomorrow's gonna be another working day
and I'm tryin' to get some rest;
that's all - I'm trying to get some rest.

- Paul Simon -
1973

Little Soldier

Hello Little Soldier,
Tell me where you've been.
It can't be far, you have no car.
For your only nine, or ten.

Tell me, Little Darlin,
Where did you get that gun?
Your tiny hands stretch to span,
What I see,to you, is fun.

And in your lovely,little face,
Is the sweetest smile of death,
But hollow are your pretty eyes',
And haunted is your breath.

Come here, my Little Soldier.
Sit, and tell me things,
Do you mind what you find?
Can you still dream?

I need you, Tiny Warrior,
To explain it all to me.
I have no way to understand,
The world my eyes have seen.

A childs' life is so simple.
And a soldiers' life is too.
Tell me in your childs voice,
What can a woman do?

Why do you point your gun at me?
My children are your age.
But they do not have your eyes',
So full of death and rage.

Why is it you won't speak to me?
I only wish to save,
A life so strong and vital,
A life so early brave.

Can I hold you Little Soldier?
Can I rock away your pain?
Please don't pull that trigger.
There is nothing there to gain.

Oh God! I understand now,
Your orders have come through.
Please Little Soldier!
Think of what you do!

Man, itself, betrayed you!
Once you left the womb.
Man,itself has trapped you,
Into a childs tomb!

And women, too, betrayed you.
Because we can't fight back.
But if you kill me child,
You will kill the hope you lack.

I see now Little Soldier.
You can not be stopped.
Your eyes are dead, and face so red,
And the death of man is cocked.

Even as I feel it, child,
I beg you look away.
I cannot see your pretty face,
As you do what men say.

Just click this link:

http://www.leonkuhn.org.uk/pclarge/statue_of_liberty_lt.htm

Multiple pictures here:

http://www.thesacredvoicegallery.com/nowar.htm

"Fragile"
by Sting

If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are

Statement

It would not have been possible for me ever to trust someone who
acquired office by the shameful means Mr. Bush and his abettors resorted
to in the last presidential election. His nonentity was rapidly becoming
more apparent than ever when the catastrophe of Sept. 11, 2001, provided
him and his handlers with a role for him, that of "wartime leader",
which they, and he in turn, were quick to exploit. This role was used at
once to silence all criticism of the man and his words as unpatriotic,
and to provide the auspices for a sustained assault upon civil
liberties, environmental protections, and general welfare. The
perpetuation of this role of "wartime leader" is the primary reason--
more important even than the greed for oil fields and the wish to blot
out his father's failure-- for the present determination to visit war
upon Iraq, kill and maim countless people, and antagonize much of the
world of which Mr. Bush had not heard until recently. The real
iniquities of Saddam Hussein should be recognized, in this context, as
the pretexts they are. His earlier atrocities went unmentioned as long
as he was an ally of former Republican administrations, which were
happy, in their time, to supply him with weapons. I think that someone
who was maneuvered into office against the will of the electorate, as
Mr. Bush was, should be allowed to make no governmental decisions
(including judicial appointments) that might outlast his questionable
term, and if the reasons for war were many times greater than they have
been said to be I would oppose any thing of the kind under such
"leadership". To arrange a war in order to be re-elected outdoes even
the means employed in the last presidential election. Mr. Bush and his
plans are a greater danger to the United States than Saddam Hussein.

-- W. S. Merwin

"What war crimes?" you may say. "We're good Americans! We don't commit war crimes! Yes, bad things happen in war, but bad things are sometimes necessary for the greater good of victory. But these are not war crimes, these are military necessities. Our enemies may commit war crimes, because they are evil. But we Americans would never deliberately do such things.
And furthermore, you must be a treasonous, liberal, communist, pinko, terrorist-loving fag to even think we Americans would ever commit war crimes."

http://www.opednews.com/articles/opedne_rev__bil_051111_bush_administration_.htm

Holy Shittokki Batman!!!

If Foe News says it, it must be.. Well, anyway..

bushs church is now in full rebellion...NINTY FIVE BISHOPS...wow

Methodist Bishops Repent Iraq War 'Complicity'
Thursday, November 10, 2005
By Kaukab Jhumra Smith

•Al Qaeda Addresses Muslim Deaths•Iraqi President Makes Assurances to Pope •Bombs in Iraq Getting More Sophisticated •Jordanians Protest Against Al Qaeda•Homicide Bombers Kill 40 Iraqis•Pentagon: Recruitment Up in October
WASHINGTON — Ninety-five bishops from President Bush's church said Thursday they repent their "complicity" in the "unjust and immoral" invasion and occupation of Iraq.

"In the face of the United States administration's rush toward military action based on misleading information, too many of us were silent," said a statement of conscience signed by more than half of the 164 retired and active United Methodist bishops worldwide.

President Bush is a member of the United Methodist Church, according to various published biographies. The White House did not return a request for comment on the bishops' statement.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,175245,00.html

Crap that copy pasted all wrong

WASHINGTON — Ninety-five bishops from President Bush's church said Thursday they repent their "complicity" in the "unjust and immoral" invasion and occupation of Iraq.

"In the face of the United States administration's rush toward military action based on misleading information, too many of us were silent," said a statement of conscience signed by more than half of the 164 retired and active United Methodist bishops worldwide.

President Bush is a member of the United Methodist Church, according to various published biographies. The White House did not return a request for comment on the bishops' statement.

Willie McBride

Melody - Irish traditional
words-Eric Bogle

Well how do you do Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside?
And rest for awhile beneath the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day and now I'm nearly done
I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916;
Well I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean,
Or, young Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Refrain:
Did they beat the drum slowly,
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the Death March
As they lowered you down?
Did the band play
"The Last Post And Chorus?"
Did the pipes play
"The Flowers Of The Forest?"

Did you leave 'ere a wife or a sweetheart behind?
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?
And although you died back in 1916,
In that faithful heart are you forever nineteen?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Enclosed forever behind a glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn, and battered and stained,
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame?
Refrain:

Ah the sun now it shines on these green fields of France,
The warm summer breeze makes the red poppies dance,
And look how the sun shines from under the clouds;
There's no gas, no barbed wire, there're no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard is still No Man's Land,
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man,
To a whole generation that was butchered and damned.
Refrain:

Ah, young Willie McBride, I can't help wonder why,
Did all those who lay here really know why they died?
And did they believe when they answered the call,
Did they really believe that this war would end war?
For the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain,
The killing and dying were all done in vain,
For, young Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again and again and again and again.
Refrain:

And The band Played Waltzing Matilda
[Ballad composed by Eric Bogle]

And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda -

Now when I was a young man I carried my pack
And lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray's Green Basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country said "Son,
It's time you stopped rambling, there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they mached me away to the war

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, flag waving and tears
We sailed off for Gallipoli

And how well I remember that terrible day
How our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they called Souvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
'Johnny Turk' he was ready, he'd primed himself well
He rained us with bullets and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
While we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again

And those that were left, well we tried to survive
In that mad world of death, blood and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse-over-head
And when I awoke in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead
Never knew there was worse things than dying

For I'll go no more waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and free
For to hump tent and pegs a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

So, they collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane
The proud, wounded heroes of Souvla
And when our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thanked Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity

But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all their faces away

So now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams and past glories
And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore
They're tired old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question

But the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Some day no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll go a'waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong
Who'll come a'waltzing Matilda with me?

A little side note-
I have loved both these songs since my days hanging out at irish folk pubs in Chicago in the 80's but it was only lsat week that I heard/read that the same guy wrote both these songs.

An old article about Chicago Boots Memorial:

http://www.veteransforpeace.org/chicago_remembers_012204.htm

(Picture is in the article.)

Fixin' to Lie Rag (rewritten by Randall Bart for Iraq):

Come on all you Americans.
Bush is President again.
He found a guy who's really bad.
The name's Saddam. He's in Baghdad.
So show some ID, take off your shoes.
What have you got to lose?

And it's one, two, three,
What are we searching for?
George said it, it must be true.
I believe in W.
And it's five, six, seven,
Tell me who I should hate.
There's no need to wonder why,
'Cause Presidents never lie.

The USA's the worldwide cop,
And evildoers must be stopped.
Saddam's got nukes and poison gas.
Let's go kick him in the ass.
Conquer the land, sell off the oil.
To the victor goes the spoil.

Now there's rebuilding to be done.
Halliburton is the one.
Cheney says they have the skills.
We're the ones who pay the bills.
So give up your rights. Write me a check.
We'll make the whole world a wreck.

And it's one, two, three,
What are we paying for?
Dick said it, it must be spent.
He's our Vice President.
And it's five, six, seven,
Tell me who I should hate.
There's no need to wonder why.
Vice Presidents never lie.

Posted by: mkh at November 12, 2005 01:46 PM

I love Joan Baez's "Waltzing Matilda". I know I've heard "Willie McBride" (aka "The Green Fields of France" or "No Man's Land") but couldn't remember the tune. Found this mp3 of Eric Bogle singing it and a very beautiful live a cappella version by British folksinger June Tabor (sung during a 1992 peace concert in Passendale, Belgium).

Eric Bogle http://www.greatwar.nl/music/nomansland.mp3
June Tabor http://www.greatwar.nl/music/nomanslandtabor.mp3

I came across Paul Wellstone's Senate floor speech regarding military action in Iraq from October, 2002 -- while he was in the middle of a re-election campaign and sadly, a few weeks before he died. It's worth reading the whole speech, but here are a few poignant bits that are hauntingly accurate...

--snip--
Our debate here is critical because the administration seeks our authorization now for military action including possibly unprecedented, pre-emptive, go-it-alone military action in Iraq, even as it seeks to garner support from our allies on a tough new UN disarmament resolution.

Let me be clear: Saddam Hussein is a brutal, ruthless dictator who has repressed his own people, attacked his neighbors, and remains an international outlaw. The world would be a much better place if he were gone and the regime in Iraq were changed. That's why the U.S. should unite the world against Saddam, and not allow him to unite forces against us.

A go-it-alone approach, allowing for a ground invasion of Iraq without the support of other countries, could give Saddam exactly that chance. A pre-emptive go-it-alone strategy towards Iraq is wrong. I oppose it.
--snip--
This debate must include all Americans, because our decisions finally must have the informed consent of the American people, who will be asked to bear the costs, in blood and treasure, of our decisions. When the lives of the sons and daughters of average Americans could be risked and lost, their voices must be heard by Congress before we make decisions about military action.

Right now, despite a desire to support our president, I believe many Americans still have profound questions about the wisdom of relying too heavily on a pre-emptive, go-it-alone military approach.

Acting now on our own might be a sign of our power. Acting sensibly and in a measured way in concert with our allies, with bipartisan Congressional support, would be a sign of our strength.

It would also be a sign of the wisdom of our founders, who lodged in the President the power to command U.S. armed forces, and in Congress the power to make war, ensuring a balance of powers between co-equal branches of government. Our Constitution lodges the power to weigh the causes for war and the ability to declare war in Congress precisely to ensure that the American people and those who represent them will be consulted before military action is taken
--snip--
There have been questions raised about the nature and urgency of Iraq's threat, our response to that threat, and against whom, exactly that threat is directed. What is the best course of action that the U.S. could take to address the threat? What are the economic, political, and national security consequences of possible U.S. or U.S.-British invasion of Iraq? There have been questions raised about the consequences of our actions abroad, including its effects on the continuing war on terrorism, our ongoing efforts to stabilize and rebuild Afghanistan, and efforts to calm the intensifying Middle East crisis, especially the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. And there have been questions raised about the consequences of our actions here at home.

Of first and greatest concern, obviously, are the questions raised about the possible loss of life that could result from our actions. The United States could send tens of thousands of U.S. troops to fight in Iraq, and in so doing we could risk countless lives, of U.S. soldiers and innocent Iraqis. There are other questions, about the impact of an attack in relation to our economy. The United States could face soaring oil prices and could spend billions both on a war and on a years-long effort to stabilize Iraq after an invasion. The resolution we will be debating today would explicitly authorize a go-it-alone approach.

http://www.wellstone.org/archive/article_detail.aspx?itemID=5423&catID=3605

Not To Keep, by Robert Frost

They sent him back to her. The letter came
Saying . . . and she could have him. And before
She could be sure there was no hidden ill
Under the formal writing, he was in her sight --
Living. -- They gave him back to her alive --
How else? They are not known to send the dead --
And not disfigured visibly. His face? --
His hands? She had to look -- to ask,
"What was it, dear?" And she had given all
And still she had all -- they had -- they the lucky!
Wasn't she glad now? Everything seemed won,
And all the rest for them permissable ease.
She had to ask, "What was it, dear?"

"Enough,
Yet not enough. A bullet through and through,
High in the breast. Nothing but what good care
And medicine and rest -- and you a week,
Can cure me of to go again." The same
Grim giving to do over for them both.
She dared no more than ask him with her eyes
How was it with him for a second trial.
And with his eyes he asked her not to ask.
They had given him back to her, but not to keep.

What The Bullet Sang

O joy of creation,
To be!
O rapture, to fly
And be free!
Be the battle lost or won,
Though its smoke shall hide the sun,
I shall find my love - the one
Born for me!

I shall know him where he stands
All alone,
With the power in his hands
not o'erthrown;
I shall know him by his face,
By his godlike front and grace;
I shall hold him for a space
All my own!

It is he - O my love!
So bold!
It is I - all thy love
Foretold!
It is I - O love, what bliss!
Dost thou answer to my kiss?
O sweetheart! what is this
Lieth there so cold?

Bret Harte

My Son

Here is his little cambric frock
That I laid by in lavender so sweet,
And here his tiny shoe and sock
I made with loving care for his dear feet.

I fold the frock across my breast,
And in imagination, ah, my sweet,
Once more I hush my babe to rest,
And once again I warm those little feet.

Where do those strong young feet now stand?
In flooded trench, half numb to cold or pain,
Or marching through the desert sand
To some dread place that they may never gain.

God guide him and his men to-day!
Though death may lurk in any tree or hill,
His brave young spirit is their stay,
Trusting in that they'll follow where he will.

They love him for his tender heart
When poverty or sorrow asks his aid,
But he must see each do his part -
Of cowardice alone is he afraid.

I ask no honours on the field,
That other men have won as brave as he -
I only pray that God may shield
My son, and bring him safely back to me!

Ada Tyrrell

Dona Nobis Pacem
Peace and security. Americans want them back again. We lost them after 9/11, after the most deadly attack ever on continental United States soil - when it finally became clear that Islamic Fundamentalism wasn't just something we read about in newspapers, or watched reports of on television. President Bush tells us that because of the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on 9/11, we now need to launch a preemptive war against Iraq, to insure that Saddam Hussein's weapons of mass destruction never fall into the hands of terrorists. He hints that we may eventually need to attack other Muslim nations who might someday also give comfort and aid to fundamentalist terrorists. He says that our national security demands this.

War and Peace
Is war an effective way to create peace and security in the world? I suspect it depends on how you define peace and security. Clearly, the lessons of history suggests that avoiding a war simply out of fear, or an unwillingness to stand up to tyranny or oppression, can lead to dire results later on - as the years leading up to World War Two make crystal clear. The larger question, however, is a much more subtle one: are we any good as a species at differentiating between the chaotic emotional and mental impressions at war within ourselves, and the legitimate provocations that might require fighting a just war? Are we any good in deciding which wars to fight with words, which wars to fight with arms, and which wars are best fought within ourselves - with the appropriate field of battle being the heart and psyche of each and every person, and, by extension, the collective psyche of a nation? The evidence, based on many millennia of human history, suggests that we are not.

Consider the example of Saddam Hussein. Faced with a war that will almost assuredly result in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Iraqis, and probably his own death as well, he refuses to submit to the will of the international community - and live up to the commitment he gave by agreeing to the cease fire at the end of the original Gulf War. He is even refusing to accept exile and immunity for himself, his family, a cadre of officers/bodyguards, and enjoy the many billions of dollars he has stashed away in international banks. It is a rather astonishing choice, to be sure, and absolutely not the choice of a man at peace with himself. It is very much the choice of a man fighting an internal battle far more terrifying than anything the United States and Great Britain will be able to throw at him.

Let us also consider the example of the neo-conservatives that populate the Bush Administration - men and women like Dick Cheney, Paul Wolfowitz, Richard Perle, Donald Rumsfeld, Condoleeza Rice and the President himself. There are two salient characteristics that unite these men and women: 1) an absence of any combat military experience to humble them about the true nature of war, and hence give their hawkish views a degree of emotional credibility; 2) a romantic view of American foreign policy as some great, noble excursion through which we should export our values, and hence make the world a far better place for all concerned.

Perhaps you think that I'm being unfair here. Wouldn't the world be a much better place if American values were the values of the entire world? Not necessarily. It all depends on the specific values you advocate exporting. There are quite a number of elements in this continually evolving, work-in-progress, America that are clearly not ready for prime-time, so to speak. Consider our predilection towards violent crime, in comparison to that of most European nations. Compared to these countries where murder rarely occurs, we're obviously doing something very wrong. And, I'll not get into our obsession with physical perfection, perpetual dieting, and cosmetic surgery, to name only one additional wart on our current national character.

There are larger, complicating, issues as well. What happens when the values you want to export are in conflict with values that another equally enthusiastic and adamant group is also looking to export - say, Islamic Fundamentalists? The answer is, of course, obvious, and on display for all to see. When religious fervor and unfettered idealism march before consciousness and emotional intelligence, chaos and death inevitably follow in their wake.

Assuming the values you want export are worth the effort, what happens when the way that you seek to communicate your beliefs contaminates the authentic beauty and power of their message, and hence leads others to reject them? That answer is also obvious, as witnessed in the example afforded by the current crisis. Had the Bush Administration used an appropriate degree of emotional intelligence in building the kind of coalition that his father did before the first Gulf War, had it been staffed by men and women with the requisite blend of healthy caution and emotional and diplomatic savvy, then perhaps there would be no need of French bashing, or for silly, jingoistic reactions like renaming deep fried crinkled potatoes or dumping fine wine.

The Transpersonal Perspective
Let me pose another relevant question: what dynamic inside of all of us makes it so important that these values even be enshrined as universal? Do we absolutely know that they represent "truth" - or could they simply be the truth as any one of us understands it, based on our incredibly limited capacities to comprehend subjects as vast as ultimate knowledge, and the impact of the cosmos, or God, on human affairs?

I'll propose an answer here. It strikes me that any time a person attempts to advocate for the absolute truth of anything, it often has as much to do with their wanting to feel more secure within themselves as it does the validity of the thing for which they advocate. In this mode, my experience is that we often become as inflexible and unconvincing advocates for truth as, well, both Saddam Hussein and George W. Bush appear to objective observers at the present moment.

The sad truth of our current world situation is that, in the eyes of much of the world, Saddam Hussein has been able to drag down President Bush to a level where a contemptible, murdering dictator appears to stand on equal footing with the leader of the free world - and, in some more partisan observer's perspective, especially in the Islamic world, perhaps even a few feet closer to hell. In Bush's furious determination to remove Hussein, in he and his staff's willingness to stretch the truth in obvious and recklessly transparent ways, in their inability to stick to a coherent story that they would be able to sell to a skeptical world community, they have very much lost the moral high ground around the world, and may have even critically damaged this nation's ability to lead in the future with anything like the same degree of trust as it once enjoyed - especially if things go wrong in their marathon campaign to invade, occupy and rebuild Iraq. Moreover, it is fair to say that they not only flunked International Diplomacy 101 while in school, but also skipped any classes on effective marketing or the skillful orchestration of world opinion, in favor of learning the dubious lessons offered in old John Wayne films, and Ariel Sharon's favorite class, "How To Use Brute Force to Influence Friends and Intimidate Potential Enemies."�

In my years of studying experiential depth psychology, and more significantly, my years of being immersed in the actual process of the work in my own life, I learned no more important lesson that this: the unlived life of any person is likely to present itself time and again in often surprising and dangerous forms of psychological projection. Hence, I return to the fact that almost of none of the men and women responsible for our current situation have any experience in combat, or even military service. Many of them used every method at their disposal to avoid going to Vietnam when they had the opportunity. None of the Vietnam War generation staffers in the core teams at Defense, National Security, or in and around the White House, chose to enlist. Yet, they consistently portray themselves as super-patriots "defending the realm", haughtily dismissing anyone who doesn't share their hawkish attitude as "appeasers".

They chastise the nations of Europe for not being willing to quickly resort to the sword, without weighing in the balance that continent's long history of war, devastation and death. In comparison, no American city has been ravaged by battle since the end of the Civil War. Consider how utterly off-balance the attacks on 9/11 have left us? Yet our heroic group of Washington warriors, their vast experience gathered in situation rooms, or on film and through books, feels itself qualified to judge the reaction of others who dare not agree with their assessment of the current threat. They demonstrate the same degree of understanding in regard to war that we see portrayed in the callow young men of the Confederacy, at the beginning of "Gone With the Wind". Compare this attitude to that of a mature and obviously experienced former soldier, Dwight David Eisenhower: "I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity".

In his lust for confrontation with his daddy's enemy, our intrepid, fearless and, oh so very inexperienced president, and his team of situation-room warriors, will now get the battle that many of them have clearly lusted for since 1991. They will settle the score with Saddam, they will proudly fly the banner of the indomitable American military spirit in the world once more, no matter the cost to our prestige and leadership, no matter the wildfire of new growth Islamic terrorism they give birth to, no matter the eventual loss of American life, both military and civilian, that the nation will suffer as the result of their exercise in confusing bravado with true courage, and dangerous ideology with wisdom. By the this end of this war, and certainly by the end of the proposed reconstruction of Iraq, I strongly suspect the United States may enjoy less peace and less security than we even do today. May God have mercy on us all.

A Mass for Our Time and All Time
But, what of peace and security, now, in this particular moment? Where might it be found? I suspect that many of us do not spend more than a few minutes of every day truly at peace with ourselves, or with the world. We may not go out seeking actual wars, in hope of channeling a fire within that can either consume or transform us - depending on our choices, our capacity for honesty, and, ultimately, our consciousness. But, in very specific, impact-laden ways, we each contribute to the chaos and emotional confusion on the planet, and can also contribute to its healing.

There are many ways to cultivate true peace and security in times like those in which we currently find ourselves. Different people will pray, meditate, contemplate, do yoga, work the steps, throw themselves into meaningful and fulfilling work, or spend time attempting to heal strained relationships with family and friends. For me, there is often nothing more centering than to immerse myself in the music of someone I consider my spiritual kinsman, Ludwig Van Beethoven - and specifically the music of his "late" period, the last five Piano Sonatas, the last five String Quartets, the Ninth Symphony, but most of all, the mighty Missa Solemnis. Much of Beethoven's music can be heard as a study in epic human struggle - of titanic battles waged against physical disability and a steadfast refusal to surrender to it, between the radically different dictates of head and heart, between hope and depression, and between emotional isolation in the world and a faith in our inescapable connection to an ultimately coherent, benevolent cosmos. In times like these, this music can return me to a place of wholeness, of intellectual balance and emotional equilibrium - and a sense of belonging to a long line of men and women who have chosen to take up the work of "jihad" in the way that I suspect The Prophet Mohammed actually intended it: a battle with the self, one layer of onion skin at a time, one layer of illusion and self-deception at a time, one layer of ego at a time, until, in God's time, and with our effort, we become a more perfect embodiment of whatever gift the cosmos had in mind when it willed our birth.

Yes, in dire moments of war and world chaos, like the moment we find ourselves in at present, there is no balm for me quite like that of the Missa Solemnis. The Missa is, as the name implies, a setting of the Catholic Mass - but the Mass on steroids, a celebration not so much of Catholicism with a capital "C", but of a faith in the universal experience of God that mystics of all religions and spiritual paths would recognize without much difficulty. It is an extraordinary work from a compositional perspective - with vocal lines pushing the soloists and chorus beyond the typical requirements for performance, as if Beethoven were suggesting that if humankind truly wanted to understand the majesty and immensity of God, we would have to stretch our capacities to do so. Wilhelm Furtwaengler, arguably the greatest conductor of the 20th century, would not even play it, believing it impossible to properly perform.

Again, the Missa is not a Christian devotional work, like the Bach Passions or Handel's Messiah. Like the accompanying Ninth Symphony, it reaches far beyond the temporal, limited conception of either Christianity or Catholicism, and towards a sense of God as the universal force behind all life, more cosmos and creator than the more personal God of Abraham, Jesus or Mohammed. Yet, even amidst this vast, transcendental panorama, the suffering of man is not ignored or slighted. In a very real sense, the Missa is one of the earliest anti-war works - embodying Beethoven's experience of living through an era of political revolution and Napoleonic Wars. In the concluding, anguished, Agnus Dei section, the soloists' and chorus' pleas for mercy and peace are repeatedly interrupted by the drums and bugle calls of war, only to be silenced each time by an even more forceful, adamant return of the chorus, and the steady, heart-easing melody of the Dona Nobis Pacem. This strikes me a musical reminder of the role each of have in creating peace, both in our own lives, and in the troubled larger world in which we live. This world has evolved less in God's image, and more in our own - as a reflection of a billion troubled psyches, including those of men and women like Saddam Hussein and the Bush team, very much in need of a dose of authentic jihad. Will we choose to create peace, first in ourselves, and then in the world? Will we choose to fight the "good" war that that only we can fight?

"From the heart -- may it go to the heart again" (from Beethoven's title page for his Missa Solemnis).

Matthew Carnicelli, © 2003. All rights reserved.

We Shall Remember Them

No visit to a gracious Queen,
no presentation honouring the dead.

The day his medal came
her fingers fumbled with the padded envelope;
ribbon and steel dropped from her hand,
another piece rolled out of sight.

When they came home they found her there,
tears falling on the polished floor,
trying to fit the fragments of her son,
to make sense of the scattered jigsaw
of his life.

Home-assembly decoration kits
by order of a grateful Government,
broken like the bodies
they were made to celebrate.

But then he was, at seventeen, hardly a soldier.
Just a name and number in the power game.
Mail-order hero of a battle scene.

Sheila Parry

~ * * ~

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Wilfred Owen

A coincidence that we both wrote about Guernica on or about Rememberance Day (equiv. to Veteran's Day)? Interesting how art speaks.

The post is here: http://www.tblog.ca/?p=81

This isn't exactly an antiwar song, but I'm posting it because I've often felt as if our country is reacting as abused families do to abusive situations. (No politically correct way to state this. It DOES seem like we've been abused that people have looked away and that we have to fight for our own Independence Day...Ok...I'm not advocating violence here either.) Just posting the chorus.

Artist: Martina McBride Lyrics
Song: Independence Day Lyrics

Chours: let freedom ring, let the white dove sing let the whole world know that
Today is a day of reckoning let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong roll
The stone away, let the guilty pay, it’s independence day

Roll the stone away it’s independence day

Posted by: Matthew Carnicelli at November 12, 2005 04:42 PM

That is beautiful. Thanks Matt.

Skipping Sunday School

I learned more about God
in the front seat of my family's
'34 Plymouth four door sedan
than I ever did in Sunday School,

which I skipped religiously
while the folks absorbed their
sermon, sang their hymns, recited
the Lord's Prayer and Benediction,
and dropped their little white
envelope in the deep dish
making its way from pew to pew
in the stone and stained glass splendor
of Westminster Presbyterian Church.
Bach, Beethoven and Brahms
were my teachers, Mozart
and Vivaldi, as The Firestone Hour
wrapped me in the flowing robes
of fiery gods, oblivious to sunlight
streaming through gold leaves
on the horse chestnut trees lining
16th Avenue, the purrs and putts
of passing cars, immersed
in the mathematics of the soul,
wondering how a war could rage
while the radio played a Chopin polonaise.

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, 'n' how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, 'n' how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they're forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea?
Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Bob Dylan
Blowin' in the Wind.

Essay by Sheldon Drobny (founder of AirAmerica) on Huffington Post that seems relevant to this topic...

Imagine

At this critical period in the history of the world I think of the John Lennon song Imagine. One of the verses is:

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

--snip--
There was an initial strong sense of nationalism in America as our reaction to the events of September 11, 2001. The Bush administration has exploited this sense of nationalism to create an irrational sense of fear and self righteousness for U.S. foreign policy That is why the lyrics of Imagine may have more meaning today than ever before.

The point John Lennon was making in his song was that so many unnecessary deaths have been caused by differences in religious, cultural, and nationalistic views. History is replete with this kind of violence over the years. In order to evaluate the current situation objectively, we are obligated to revisit the past to put these beliefs in true prospective.
--snip--
Until September 11, 2001, we were very focused upon our own problems and clearly the Bush Administration was supporting a policy of isolationism. Isolationism was disastrous before World War II and will not be effective today. But, does our necessary involvement in the global community require only a military capability? I believe that the solution will not come from exertion of power in these less developed and oppressed countries. Americans are not intrinsically better than the people of other countries and our sense of entitlement because we are more developed and richer is false. If anything makes sense in the world it is that we are one humanity responsible for the needs of others. We are not one country self absorbed in our own needs. This humanistic policy is the only way the human race will survive. Limiting human concerns to national boundaries will be no more effective than it has been in the past and the stakes are much higher given the state of weapons of mass destruction.

The great Jewish philosopher, Maimanides, lived in the 12th century under Muslim rule. He generally was allowed to practice his faith under a very tolerant ruler until he was exiled in his later years by an oppressive new ruler. Most of his writings were in fact recorded in Arabic. His commentaries and philosophic beliefs had a dramatic affect on Judaism and its sister religions. In his most famous book, The Guide for the Perplexed, he tried to explain that it was difficult for humans to understand scripture and that one must be in a constant search for understanding of the reasons for the creation of the universe. His most meaningful discussion about the nature of God is that one can only define God in very subjective ways. Maimonides therefore has given us a guide to the understanding that those who define God in their own terms as to who he is or who has the pathway to God is practicing religious beliefs that cause a sense of false self righteousness. That is very dangerous to all who have an abiding faith that there is a just and righteous Creator and that humanity has a noble destiny.

So I end this article by stating that John Lennon was not asking us to lack faith or not be patriotic to our species by imagining that there were no countries or religions. He was telling us that the countries and religions may create artificial senses of righteousness for which people unnecessarily die. In defining the human destiny and the nature of God, Maimonides would only say that God could not love any humans less because of religious beliefs and national interests.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sheldon-drobny/imagine_b_10548.html

"We do not torture."

http://webpages.charter.net/micah/repjesus88.png

A song for hope & peace by Melanie

Peace Will Come (According To Plan)

There's a chance peace will come in your life please buy one
There's a chance peace will come in your life please buy one

For sometimes when I am feeling as big as the land
With the velvet hill in the small of my back
And my hands are playing the sand

And my feet are swimming in all of the waters
All of the rivers are givers to the ocean
According to plan, according to man

Well sometimes when I am feeling so grand
And I become the world
And the world becomes a man

And my song becomes a part of the river
I cry out to keep me just the way I am
According to plan

According to man, according to plan
According to man, according to plan
Oh there's a chance peace will come
In your life, please buy one
Oh there's a chance peace will come
In your life, please buy one

Truth Shall Prevail
Welcome back to the internet!

Posted by: teddy at November 12, 2005 05:02 PM

Teddy,

Welcome. How cool that you both wrote about Guernica today.

I tried to look at your site but there is a big thing in the left hand corner "about you" that won't move out of the way so I can see your webpage below it.

I guess I should warn you, I'm not the most computer literate here.

More Than a Name on a Wall
------The Statler Brothers

I saw her from a distance
As she walked up to the wall
in her hand she held some flowers
as her tears began to fall
and she took out pen and paper
as to trace her memories
and she looked up to heaven
and the words she said were these...

She said Lord my boy was special,
and he meant so much to me
and Oh I'd love to see him
just one more time you see
All I have are the memories
and the moments to recall

So Lord could you tell him,
He's more than a name on a wall..

She said he really missed the family
and being home on Christmas day
and he died for God and Country
in a place so far away

I remember just a little boy
playing war since he was three
But Lord this time I know,
He's not coming home to me

And she said Lord my boy was special,
and he meant so much to me
and Oh I'd love to see him
But I know it just can't be
So I thank you for my memories
and the moments to recall

But Lord could you tell him,
He's more than a name on a wall..

Lord could you tell him,
He's more than a name on a wall

This particular song was one of the 3 or four things that turned me against war in my life.
The others were :giving birth to a baby boy in 1979
Watching "Apocalypse Now"
And viewing a TV show about 3 soldiers who had died in the Vietnam war. It was one of the most powerful, touching shows I've ever seen. It was just a series of home movies of these 3 kids as they were growing up. Watching the mothers hold their newborn sons in their arms, smiling, thinking so many hopeful thoughts about their futures. And all the while, the background music was playing "The First time Ever I Saw Your Face."
I thought about my baby boy and it changed my life forever.
If only the mainstream media would even try to show this country something like that again, it could make a real difference.

This is so beautiful. Joan Baez does it too.

Christmas In Washington Lyrics

by Steve Earle

It's Christmastime in Washington
The Democrats rehearsed
Gettin' into gear for four more years
Things not gettin' worse
The Republicans drink whiskey neat
And thanked their lucky stars
They said, 'He cannot seek another term
They'll be no more FDRs'
I sat home in Tennessee
Staring at the screen
With an uneasy feeling in my chest
And I'm wonderin' what it means

Chorus:
So come back Woody Guthrie
Come back to us now
Tear your eyes from paradise
And rise again somehow
If you run into Jesus
Maybe he can help you out
Come back Woody Guthrie to us now

I followed in your footsteps once
Back in my travelin' days
Somewhere I failed to find your trail
Now I'm stumblin' through the haze
But there's killers on the highway now
And a man can't get around
So I sold my soul for wheels that roll
Now I'm stuck here in this town

Chorus

There's foxes in the hen house
Cows out in the corn
The unions have been busted
Their proud red banners torn
To listen to the radio
You'd think that all was well
But you and me and Cisco know
It's going straight to hell

So come back, Emma Goldman
Rise up, old Joe Hill
The barracades are goin' up
They cannot break our will
Come back to us, Malcolm X
And Martin Luther King
We're marching into Selma
As the bells of freedom ring

Chorus

The chilling conclusion to Benjamin Britten's War Requiem:
I am the enemy you killed, my friend
I knew you in this dark; for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now...

Into Paradise may the Angels lead thee: at thy coming may the Martyrs receive thee...

[bell tolling]

Requiescant in pace. Amen.

Links and more (listen if you've never heard it):
http://inkpot.com/classical/brittenwar.html
http://www.its.caltech.edu/~tan/Britten/britwar.html

Coventry Cathedral - bombed in WWII to ruin British morale and resurrected and rebuilt with incredible new architecture that paid homage to, incorporated, and widely diverged from the shell of the old cathedral (or as the Dean of the Cathedral puts it, "to walk from the ruins of the old Cathedral into the splendor of the new is to walk from Good Friday to Easter, from the ravages of human self-destruction to the glorious hope of resurrection") - has some incredible artwork influenced by the cathedral's tragic history:
www.coventrycathedral.org.uk/tour

Corrected link for Coventry:
http://www.coventrycathedral.org.uk/vtour.html

This one is good - better heard than read.
& I still get all emotional if I hear U2 do "Beautiful Day"

U2 - Love And Peace Or Else Lyrics

Lay down
Lay down
Lay your sweet lovely on the ground
Lay your love on the track
We're gonna break the monster's back
Yes we are...
Lay down your treasure
Lay it down now brother
You don't have time
For a jealous lover

As you enter this life
I pray you depart
With a wrinkled face
And a brand new heart

I don't know if I can take it
I'm not easy on my knees
Here's my heart you can break it

I need some release, release, release

We need
Love and peace
Love and peace

Lay down
Lay down your guns
All your daughters of Zion
All your Abraham sons

I don't know if I can make it
I'm not easy on my knees
Here's my heart and you can break it
I need some release, release, release

We need
Love and peace
Love and peace

Baby don't fight
We can talk this thing through
It's not a big problem
It's just me and you
You can call or I'll phone
The TV is still on
But the sound is turned down
And the troops on the ground
Are about to dig in

And I wonder where is the love?
Where is the love?
Where is the love?
Where is the love?
Love and peace

Dresden's Gothic cathedral also has reopened, after being bombed to oblivion during WW2

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/10/30/AR2005103001167.html

Prayer for England

Sinead o’connor (Massive Attack, 2004)

In the name of
And by the power of
The holy spirit
May we invoke your
Intersession for
The children of England
Some of whom have seen
Murder so obscene
Some of whom have been taken
Let not another child be slain
Let not another search be made in vain

Jah forgive us
For forgetting
Jah help us
We need more loving
See the teachers
Are representing you
So badly
That not many can see you

Let not another child be slain
Let not another search be made in vain
Jah calls the ones who’s
Beliefs kill children too
Feel the love of you and be healed
And may we all cry too
For representing you
So badly so badly
Jah forgive us
For forgetting
Oh jah help us
To be forgiving

The teachers are representing you
So badly that not many can see you
Let not another child be slain
Let not another search be made in vain

Relevant to war...torture. Leonard Pitts says it well... (Posted in its entirety)

A betrayal of our most precious values

Well, I guess that settles that.

"We do not torture," President Bush said on Monday. Never mind all those torture pictures from Abu Ghraib. Never mind all those torture stories from Guantanamo Bay. Never mind the 2002 Justice Department memo that sought to justify torture. Never mind reports of U.S. officials sending detainees to other countries for torture. Never mind Dick Cheney lobbying to exempt the CIA from rules prohibiting torture.

"We do not torture," said the president. And that's that, right? I mean, if you can't believe the Bush administration, who can you believe? No torture. Period, end of sentence.

But . . . What does it say to you that the claim even has to be made?

Bush spoke in Panama on the last day of a five-day swing through Latin America to promote free trade. He was addressing controversy over secret CIA prisons in foreign countries. America, Bush reminded us in case it had slipped our minds in the 20 minutes since he last reminded us, is at war.

Guess that would explain all the dead people. And yes, war is not a nice business under the best of circumstances. It is less so when you fight a stateless enemy that strikes from shadows.

But we've been at war before, nasty, brutish wars, one war with civilization itself on the line, yet somehow we always managed to be the good guy. That is not to say our soldiers and sailors and fliers were always good, immune from committing atrocities. It is not to say our officials were always good, untouched by dirty deeds done in clandestine ways. Finally, it is not to say our cause was always good, free from the taint of imperialism or expedience.

But we - the collective we, the official we, the face shown in light of day we - were the good guys.

It occurs to me that maybe I've larded that statement with so many caveats as to drain it of meaning. I'm not trying to be cute. Rather, I'm trying not to sound naive while at the same time getting at something important:

We were the nation of moral authority, the nation of moral high ground, the nation that lectured other nations about human rights. And you know what? People believed us. They rush to our shores because there is freedom here, yes; because there is opportunity here, yes; but also because we stood for something, which was more than the tin-pot tyrants who ran their countries could ever say.

What a difference a presidency makes. "We do not torture," he says.

When I heard that, my first thought was a one-liner: he's been torturing me for years. But you know, this just ain't funny.

In the name of fighting terror, we have terrorized, and in the name of defending our values, we have betrayed them. We have imprisoned Muslims in America and refused to say if we had them, why we had them, or even to provide them attorneys. We have passed laws making it easier for government to snoop into what you read, who you talk to, where you go. We have equated dissent with lack of patriotism, disagreement with treason. And we have tortured.

Yes, Bush says we don't do that kind of thing but, to paraphrase Groucho Marx, who you going to believe, him or your lying eyes?

We ignore our lying eyes, I think, because we are afraid, because we saw what happened Sept. 11 and we never want to see it again. I'd never suggest we ought not fear terrorism. But we should also fear the nation we are becoming in response. We should fear the fact that we have abrogated moral authority, retreated from moral high ground, become like those we once chastised.

"We do not torture," says the president. I can remember when that went without saying.
http://www.buffalonews.com/editorial/20051112/1041927.asp

from "Hail to the Thief" - there is never any doubt in my mind who the Thief is. This album was written after the 2000 election was stolen.
"In the Gloaming," though not explicit, sings to me of the neocons. It has gotten me through many a dark night, with Thom Yorke's eerie/intelligent & poignant voice.

The Gloaming

Genie let out the bottle
It is now the witching hour
Genie let out the bottle
It is now the witching hour

Murderers you're murderers
We are not the same as you

Genie let out the bottle
Funny haha funny how

When the walls bend
When the walls bend
With your breathing
With your breathing

When the walls bend
When the walls bend
With your breathing
With your breathing
With your breathing

They will suck you down
To the otherside
They will suck you down
To the otherside
They will suck you down
To the otherside
They will suck you down
To the otherside

To the shadows blue and red
To the shadows blue and red
Your alarm bells
Your alarm bells

To the shadows blue and red
To the shadows blue and red
Your alarm bells
Your alarm bells

Should be ringing

This is the gloaming

Goodnight Saigon, lyrics and music by Billy Joel

We met as soul mates on Parris Island
We left as inmates from an asylum
And we were sharp, as sharp as knives
And we were so gung ho to lay down our lives

We came in spastic like tameless horses
We left in plastic as numbered corpses
And we learned fast to travel light
Our arms were heavy but our bellies were tight

We had no home front, we had no soft soap
They sent us Playboy, they gave us Bob Hope
We dug in deep and shot on sight
And prayed to Jesus Christ with all our might

We had no cameras to shoot the landscape
We passed the hash pipe and played our Doors tapes
And it was dark, so dark at night
And we held on to each other
Like brother to brother
We promised our mothers we'd write

And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together

Remember Charlie, remember Baker
They left their childhood on every acre
And who was wrong? And who was right?
It didn't matter in the thick of the fight

We held the day in the palm of our hand
They ruled the night, and the night
Seemed to last as long as six weeks...On Parris Island

We held the coastline, they held the highlands
And they were sharp, as sharp as knives
They heard the hum of our motors
They counted the rotors
And waited for us to arrive

And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together

Business goes on as usual
The corn and the profits are high
and tvs boom in every living room
which deodorant to buy

Business goes on as usual
except that my brother is dead
he was 25 and very much alive
til a bullet blasted through his head

He died in the sand with a gun in his hand
He died in a war he did not understand

But business goes on
as usual
They're plenty of clothes on the rack
But the saying goes, the latest thing in clothes
the latest thing in clothes is black...

But business goes on as usual,
as usual
As usual.

"We are also here to ask, and we are here to ask vehemently, where are the leaders of our country? Where is the leadership? We are here to ask where are McNamara, Rostow, Bundy, Gilpatric and so many others. Where are they now that we, the men whom they sent off to war, have returned? These are commanders who have deserted their troops, and there is no more serious crime in the law of war. The Army says they never leave their wounded."

"The Marines say they never leave even their dead. These men have left all the casualties and retreated behind a pious shield of public rectitude. They have left the real stuff of their reputation bleaching behind them in the sun in this country."

"Finally, this administration has done us the ultimate dishonor. They have attempted to disown us and the sacrifice we made for this country. In their blindness and fear they have tried to deny that we are veterans or that we served in Nam. We do not need their testimony. Our own scars and stumps of limbs are witnesses enough for others and for ourselves."

"We wish that a merciful God could wipe away our own memories of that service as easily as this administration has wiped their memories of us. But all that they have done and all that they can do by this denial is to make more clear than ever our own determination to undertake one last mission, to search out and destroy the last vestige of this barbarous war, to pacify our own hearts, to conquer the hate and the fear that have driven this country these last 10 years and more and so when, in 30 years from now, our brothers go down the street without a leg, without an arm or a face, and small boys ask why, we will be able to say "Vietnam" and not mean a desert, not a filthy obscene memory but mean instead the pace where America finally turned and where soldiers like us helped it in the turning. Thank you."

http://www.democracycellproject.net/forum/index.php?showtopic=41

http://www.iwvpa.net/boglee/and_th.htm
If you want to hear Eric singing And they played waltizng matilida for me
International war vetrans poetry archive page

In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Posted by: kay at November 12, 2005 07:12 PM

Thanks, kay...that's one of my very favorites...

From the refrigerator of DCP central:

"Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night."

Matthew Arnold, "Dover Beach"

And:

"This is no paradisal dream
Its hardship is its possibility."

Wendell Berry

The Man He Killed ~Thomas Hardy
"Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!

"But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him and he at me,
And killed him in his place.

"I shot him dead because –
Because he was my foe,
Just so – my foe of course he was;
That's clear enough; although

"He thought he'd 'list perhaps,
Off-hand like – just as I –
Was out of work – had sold his traps –
No other reason why.

"Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat if met where any bar is,
Or help to half-a-crown."

Michael Franti & Spearhead

ROCK THE NATION

(chorus)
Bam-Bam, rock the nation
take over television and radio station

We livin' in a mean time and an aggressive time
a painful time, a time where cynicism rots to the vine
in a time where violence blocks the summer shine

lifetimes, go by in a flash
in search for love, in search for cash

everybody wanna be some fat tycoon
everybody wanna be on a tropic honeymoon
nobody wanna sing a little bit out of tune
or be the backbone of a rebel platoon

it's too soon to step out of line
you might get laughed at you might get fined

but do you feel me when I say I feel pain everyday
when I see the way my friends gotta slave
and never get ahead of bills they gotta pay
no way no way!

some make a living doing killilng Colombian penicillin
some are willing to play the villain they just chillin'
to pass the time, pass the information
or pass the wine
pass the buck or pass the baton
but you can't pass the police or the pentagon
the I.R.S. or the upper echelon
I think it's time to make a move on the contradiction

(chorus)
Bam-Bam, rock the nation
take over television and radio station

Bam-Bam the truth shall come
give the corporation some complication!

This is the dawning of our time I say it one more time
to emphasize the meaning of my rhyme
to rise above all the dirt and grime
add the right spice at the right time
fuck the constitution
are we part of the solution or are we part of the pollution
sittin' by and wonderin' why,
things ain't the way we like to find them to be, to be
for you and for me the people over there and the ones in between
check our habitation are we a peace lovin' nation
peace lovin' nation
I have a reasonable doubt I think I'll just spell it out
there's no need to scream or to shout
the N.R.A. just bought a man's soul
then he jumps up and shouts gun control
the government says that killin's a sin
unless you kill a murderer with a lethal syringe
so I ask again "are we peace lover's then"
some of them slang guns when they six years old
some of them end up in some six foot hole
this whole #### place seems to, lost control
so I raise my voice before I lose my soul
(chorus)

This is the way I'll express my feelings
vibe revealed and revolved spinnin on a record y'all
try to confiscate take what I communicate with
it's ancient gift of the lip steady creating
activating passin vocal vibrations to the blind plus the seeing
human doesn't mean just being
be coming don't believe it just belife it
belongings or beloved rehearse it or recite it
while shining drop your guns and move your tongues
battle motivation in no time lyrics come
sometimes fun others run their mouth or away
my mind co beaming like an early sunray
one day we'll get the picture and all combine
less the talking bout mines is mine and become one mind
every piece of the puzzle has its place
to build the piece of the puzzle called the human race

taking it long enough we crush the formal journalistic
dyslexic critters talk backwards to rap words
I'm sure raising my hands with questions and demands
statements and a plan with a map of the land
(chorus)

What's Going On (1971)

the late & beloved Marvin Gaye

Mother, mother
There's too many of you crying
Brother, brother, brother
There's far too many of you dying
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today - Ya

Father, father
We don't need to escalate
You see, war is not the answer
For only love can conquer hate
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today

Picket lines and picket signs
Don't punish me with brutality
Talk to me, so you can see
Oh, what's going on
What's going on
Ya, what's going on
Ah, what's going on

In the mean time
Right on, baby
Right on
Right on

Father, father, everybody thinks we're wrong
Oh, but who are they to judge us
Simply because our hair is long
Oh, you know we've got to find a way
To bring some understanding here today
Oh

Picket lines and picket signs
Don't punish me with brutality
Talk to me
So you can see
What's going on
Ya, what's going on
Tell me what's going on
I'll tell you what's going on - Uh
Right on baby
Right on baby

This whole album in one of my Desert Island discs but this is the most beautiful

Save The Children

Marvin Gaye

I just want to ask a question
Who really cares?
To save a world in despair
There'll come a time, when the world won't be singin'
Flowers won't grow, bells won't be ringin'
Who really cares?
Who's willing to try to save a world
That's destined to die
When I look at the world it fills me with sorrow
Little children today are really gonna suffer tomorrow
Oh what a shame, such a bad way to live
All who is to blame, we can't stop livin'
Live, live for life
But let live everybody
Live life for the children
Oh, for the children
You see, let's save the children
Let's save