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Having seen a non-market economy, I suddenly understood much better what I liked about a market economy.

quote by Esther Dyson
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Thurso’s Landing

I
The coast-road was being straightened and repaired again,
A group of men labored at the steep curve
Where it falls from the north to Mill Creek. They scattered and hid
Behind cut banks, except one blond young man
Who stooped over the rock and strolled away smiling
As if he shared a secret joke with the dynamite;
It waited until he had passed back of a boulder,
Then split its rock cage; a yellowish torrent
Of fragments rose up the air and the echoes bumped
From mountain to mountain. The men returned slowly
And took up their dropped tools, while a banner of dust
Waved over the gorge on the northwest wind, very high
Above the heads of the forest.
Some distance west of the road,
On the promontory above the triangle
Of glittering ocean that fills the gorge-mouth,
A woman and a lame man from the farm below
Had been watching, and turned to go down the hill. The young
woman looked back,
Widening her violet eyes under the shade of her hand. 'I think
they'll blast again in a minute.'
And the man: 'I wish they'd let the poor old road be. I don't
like improvements.' 'Why not?' 'They bring in the world;
We're well without it.' His lameness gave him some look of age
but he was young too; tall and thin-faced,
With a high wavering nose. 'Isn't he amusing,' she said, 'that
boy Rick Armstrong, the dynamite man,
How slowly he walks away after he lights the fuse. He loves to
show off. Reave likes him, too,'
She added; and they clambered down the path in the rock-face,
little dark specks
Between the great headland rock and the bright blue sea.

II
The road-workers had made their camp
North of this headland, where the sea-cliff was broken down and
sloped to a cove. The violet-eyed woman's husband,
Reave Thurso, rode down the slope to the camp in the gorgeous
autumn sundown, his hired man Johnny Luna
Riding behind him. The road-men had just quit work and four
or five were bathing in the purple surf-edge,
The others talked by the tents; blue smoke fragrant with food
and oak-wood drifted from the cabin stove-pipe
And slowly went fainting up the vast hill.
Thurso drew rein by
a group of men at a tent door
And frowned at them without speaking, square-shouldered and
heavy-jawed, too heavy with strength for so young a man,
He chose one of the men with his eyes. 'You're Danny Woodruff,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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After bathing in the first showers of priceless rain…

The most haplessly swishing of arid hair; suddenly metamorphosed into the most ravishingly titillating fronds of supreme ecstasy; after bathing in the first showers of golden rain; that so celestially tumbled from fathomless sky,

The most abjectly chapped lips; suddenly metamorphosed into the most lusciously pink lotus’s of voluptuous glory; after bathing in the first showers of priceless rain; that so unabashedly tumbled from enchanting sky,

The most drearily pulverized soles suddenly metamorphosed into the most exhilarating pathways of an intrepidly optimistic tomorrow; after bathing in the first showers of inimitable rain; that so peerlessly tumbled from ebullient sky,

The most deliriously thwarted of brains suddenly metamorphosed into the most spell bindingly intriguing civilizations of sparkling newness; after bathing in the first showers of voluptuous rain; that so majestically tumbled from triumphant sky,

The most exhaustedly flustered of palms suddenly metamorphosed into the most invincibly philanthropic pillars of united strength; after bathing in the first showers of exultating rain; that so uninhibitedly tumbled from infallible sky,

The most demonically constipated of bellies suddenly metamorphosed into the most vivaciously dancing fairies of the tantalizing night; after bathing in the first showers of inscrutable rain; that so poignantly tumbled from ubiquitous sky,

The most morosely sulking eyes suddenly metamorphosed into the most eternally fructifying cisterns of benign happiness; after bathing in the first showers of astounding rain; that so unwontedly tumbled from limitless sky,

The most dismally febrile and shivering teeth suddenly metamorphosed into the most immaculately amazing pearls of exuberance; after bathing in the first showers of royal rain; that so spectacularly tumbled from charismatic sky,

The most lividly deteriorating of pallid skins suddenly metamorphosed into the most miraculously proliferating nests of freshness; after bathing in the first showers of replenishing rain; that so magically tumbled from passionate sky,

The most discriminatingly bigoted of blood suddenly metamorphosed into the most unassailable waterfall of unshakably glorious humanity; after bathing in the first showers of effulgent rain; that so sensuously tumbled from undefeatable sky,

The most meaninglessly yawning of mouths suddenly metamorphosed into the most insuperably emollient heavens of creative energy; after bathing in the first showers of mesmerizing rain; that so seductively tumbled from resplendent sky,

The most disastrously flabbergasted of bones suddenly metamorphosed into the most handsomely unconquerable apogees of patriotism; after bathing in the first showers of virile rain; that so unrelentingly tumbled from unimpeachable sky,

The most despondently squelched of spines suddenly metamorphosed into the most compassionately electrifying beanstalks of sensitivity; after bathing in the first showers of fecund rain; that so indefatigably tumbled from vibrant sky,

The most barbarously robotic of fingers suddenly metamorphosed into the most invincibly burgeoning lanes of ubiquitous artistry; after bathing in the first showers of gregarious rain; that so unbelievably tumbled from azure sky,

The most pugnaciously commercial of destinies suddenly metamorphosed into the most unfathomably bewildering meadows of salivating desire; after bathing in the first showers of vivid rain; that so copiously tumbled from unending sky,

The most vindictively asphyxiated of ears suddenly metamorphosed into the most serenading labyrinths of intricate intimacy; after bathing in the first showers of ameliorating rain; that so fantastically tumbled from egalitarian sky,

The most dejectedly flailing of necks suddenly metamorphosed into the most excitedly reverberating summits of Everest; after bathing in the first showers of adventurous rain; that so effeminately tumbled from aristocratic sky,

The most pervertedly impotent of personalities suddenly metamorphosed into the most incessantly evolving oceans of godly fertility; after bathing in the first showers of Omnipotent rain; that so uncompromisingly tumbled from erudite sky,

And the most satanically betraying of hearts suddenly metamorphosed into the most perpetually blessing calendars of all-time immortal love; after bathing in the first showers of holistic rain; that so everlastingly tumbled from bountiful sky….

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Suddenly

Orbison/melson
Suddenly, my heart stood still
Suddenly, the sight of you gave me a thrill
Suddenly
Suddenly, i see you everywhere
Suddenly, all at once i seem to care for you
Suddenly
So suddenly i found you
To think you were near all the time
I've often been around you
I don't know how i could have been so blind
Suddenly, my world is new
Suddenly, suddenly there's only you
Suddenly
So suddenly i found you
To think you were near all the time
I've often been around you
I don't know how i could have been so blind
Suddenly, suddenly you're my dream come true
Suddenly, suddenly there's only you
So suddenly

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Hands Of A Teacher

Optimism,
Optimism perished from the face of my earth
And then you came along, came along and swept me away,
She kissed me, as we stood on the edge,
The night made the day as we made for the bridge
It started raining hard, and I saw we may live to regret
No I never really understood
No I never really understood why,
Because Ive never been given,
Never been given two tries,
No I never really understood,
Understood why...
Pessimism,
Pessimism perished from the face of my earth,
And then you came along, came along and swept me away,
Did you miss me? did you miss me as we walked
Through the pain, attached the chain so you could
See me again
I started asking myself, did I teach you right?
No I never really understood
No I never really understood why,
Because Ive never been given,
Never been given two tries,
No I never really understood,
Understood why...
Understood why...
You came to me, you broke the bonds,
You set me free
And then the love that you promised me
Came a tumblin tumblin tumblin down
Into my hands...
No I never really understood
No I never really understood why,
Because Ive never been given,
Never been given two tries,
No I never really understood,
Understood why...
So teacher teach me...

song performed by Live
Added by Lucian Velea
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Not Understood

Not understood, we move along asunder;
   Our paths grow wider as the seasons creep
Along the years; we marvel and we wonder
   Why life is life, and then we fall asleep
   Not understood.

Not understood, we gather false impressions
   And hug them closer as the years go by;
Till virtues often seem to us transgressions;
   And thus men rise and fall, and live and die
   Not understood.

Not understood! Poor souls with stunted vision
   Oft measure giants with their narrow gauge;
The poisoned shafts of falsehood and derision
   Are oft impelled 'gainst those who mould the age,
   Not understood.

Not understood! The secret springs of action
   Which lie beneath the surface and the show,
Are disregarded; with self-satisfaction
   We judge our neighbours, and they often go
   Not understood.

Not understood! How trifles often change us!
   The thoughtless sentence and the fancied slight
Destroy long years of friendship, and estrange us,
   And on our souls there falls a freezing blight;
   Not understood.

Not understood! How many breasts are aching
   For lack of sympathy! Ah! day by day
How many cheerless, lonely hearts are breaking!
   How many noble spirits pass away,
   Not understood.

O God! that men would see a little clearer,
   Or judge less harshly where they cannot see!
O God! that men would draw a little nearer
   To one another, -- they'd be nearer Thee,
   And understood.

poem by James Brunton Stephens
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Not Understood

Not understood, we move along asunder;
Our paths grow wider as the seasons creep
Along the years; we marvel and we wonder
Why life is life, and then we fall asleep
Not understood.

Not understood, we gather false impressions
And hug them closer as the years go by;
Till virtues often seem to us transgressions;
And thus men rise and fall, and live and die
Not understood.

Not understood! Poor souls with stunted vision
Oft measure giants with their narrow gauge;
The poisoned shafts of falsehood and derision
Are oft impelled 'gainst those who mould the age,
Not understood.

Not understood! The secret springs of action
Which lie beneath the surface and the show,
Are disregarded; with self-satisfaction
We judge our neighbours, and they often go
Not understood.

Not understood! How trifles often change us!
The thoughtless sentence and the fancied slight
Destroy long years of friendship, and estrange us,
And on our souls there falls a freezing blight;
Not understood.

Not understood! How many breasts are aching
For lack of sympathy! Ah! day by day
How many cheerless, lonely hearts are breaking!
How many noble spirits pass away,
Not understood.

O God! that men would see a little clearer,
Or judge less harshly where they cannot see!
O God! that men would draw a little nearer
To one another, -- they'd be nearer Thee,
And understood.

poem by Thomas Bracken
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Suddenly

She said it wasnt my fault
She said we gave it our all
And she walked away
I never saw the girls I spoke to, no
But tell me is there something I can do
Leave another message on the telephone
And youre parked outside with your headlights on
[chorus:]
Suddenly Im standing at your door
And the steps dont feel like they did before
The radios playing loud but its not our song
Suddenly hes all alone with you
Hes looking in your eyes like I wanted to
I knock four times and pretend youre not at home
Suddenly Im all alone
Suddenly Im all alone
She said it wasnt the same (she said it wasnt the same)
You said our lifes been so plain
Then she walked away
Want to make things brand new
Tell me is there something I can do, whoa
Leave another message on the telephone
And youre parked outside with your headlights on
[chorus:]
Suddenly Im standing at your door
And the steps dont feel like they did before
The radios playing loud but its not our song
Suddenly hes all alone with you
Hes looking in your eyes like I wanted to
I knock four times and pretend youre not at home
Suddenly Im all alone
Suddenly Im all alone...
Suddenly Im all alone...
The radios playing...the radios playing...
Suddenly Im all alone...
The radios playing loud but its not our song
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Suddenly Im standing at the door
And the steps dont feel like they did before
The radios playing loud but its not our song
Suddenly Im all alone with her
Shes everything that I wish you were
You knock four times and pretend Im not at home
Suddenly Im standing at the door
And the steps dont feel like they did before
The radios playing loud but its not our song (but its not our song)
Suddenly Im all alone with her
Shes everything that I wish you were
You knock four times and pretend Im not at home
Suddenly Im standing at your door

[...] Read more

song performed by O-town
Added by Lucian Velea
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Suddenly Images Change

Too many now bending under heat,
Like drying crops.
Without a drop...
Of reviving fresh water.

Others would rather ignore their pleas,
And let them rot.
Like the weeding,
Of their wicked disorder!

Suddenly images change.
Those now in pain,
Are the ones...
Who chose to inflict it.

Suddenly they all seem insane.
Those who disdained,
Are now the ones...
Mentally conflicted.

Too many now bending under heat,
Like drying crops.
Without a drop...
Of reviving fresh water.

Others would rather ignore their pleas,
And let them rot.
Like the weeding,
Of their wicked disorder!

Suddenly images change.
Those now in pain,
Are the ones...
Who chose to inflict it.

Suddenly they all seem insane.
Those who disdained,
Are now the ones...
Mentally conflicted.

Suddenly images change.
Like drying crops.
Without a drop...
Of reviving fresh water.

Suddenly they all seem insane.
Those who disdained...
Are now the ones,
Out-of-order.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When Did Youth Go?

When did I stop being a teenager?
When did I stop listening to the radio
from midnight until 2 or 3 a.m. weeknights?

Why was teenage music so empowering?
Why were we so absorbed with the music?
Music which really rocked our wild souls?

Music we danced at local teenage disco too.
Music we drove our parents or first cars too.
Music we drank beer or spirits or partied too.

It seemed we could not live without music.
It seemed we could not meet without music.
It seemed our dreams lived within the beat of music.

Music was part of the fuel which drove our souls.
Music was part of the weekend ever speeding by.
Music was magic drumbeat of hot midnight parties.

Where is the large rocking crowd going?
Where are all the friendly teenagers going?
Where are all those old friends going?

Where where is large trendy rocking crowd going?
Where where are all the friendly teenagers going?
Where where are all those good old friends going?

Suddenly those wild unending party days are over.
Suddenly those exciting unending teenage years are over.
Suddenly those pubs full of our friends are empty.

Suddenly they all suddenly left town.
Suddenly they are all no longer around.
Suddenly they are all in places we don't go.

Suddenly they all suddenly left the old home town.
Suddenly they are all suddenly no longer around.
Suddenly they are all in places we don't know or go.

Where did those teenage years quietly go?
Those teenage friends I used to know?
Where did they all suddenly go?

Where did those teenage years quietly creeping go?
Those lost teenage friends I once upon a time did know?
Where did they all suddenly go exiting a vanishing show?

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Holy Grail

From noiseful arms, and acts of prowess done
In tournament or tilt, Sir Percivale,
Whom Arthur and his knighthood called The Pure,
Had passed into the silent life of prayer,
Praise, fast, and alms; and leaving for the cowl
The helmet in an abbey far away
From Camelot, there, and not long after, died.

And one, a fellow-monk among the rest,
Ambrosius, loved him much beyond the rest,
And honoured him, and wrought into his heart
A way by love that wakened love within,
To answer that which came: and as they sat
Beneath a world-old yew-tree, darkening half
The cloisters, on a gustful April morn
That puffed the swaying branches into smoke
Above them, ere the summer when he died
The monk Ambrosius questioned Percivale:

`O brother, I have seen this yew-tree smoke,
Spring after spring, for half a hundred years:
For never have I known the world without,
Nor ever strayed beyond the pale: but thee,
When first thou camest--such a courtesy
Spake through the limbs and in the voice--I knew
For one of those who eat in Arthur's hall;
For good ye are and bad, and like to coins,
Some true, some light, but every one of you
Stamped with the image of the King; and now
Tell me, what drove thee from the Table Round,
My brother? was it earthly passion crost?'

`Nay,' said the knight; `for no such passion mine.
But the sweet vision of the Holy Grail
Drove me from all vainglories, rivalries,
And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out
Among us in the jousts, while women watch
Who wins, who falls; and waste the spiritual strength
Within us, better offered up to Heaven.'

To whom the monk: `The Holy Grail!--I trust
We are green in Heaven's eyes; but here too much
We moulder--as to things without I mean--
Yet one of your own knights, a guest of ours,
Told us of this in our refectory,
But spake with such a sadness and so low
We heard not half of what he said. What is it?
The phantom of a cup that comes and goes?'

`Nay, monk! what phantom?' answered Percivale.

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Miss Understood

Now that I'm a woman
I'm always dreaming of romance
I'm always dreaming about the perfect man
Who'd take me in his arms and understand, understand me
My name is Miss Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood
Isn't there a man who understands me?
He picked me up at midnight (Oh)
When all the town was fast asleep
We danced 4 the man in the moon above
Understanding's cheap when U fall in love, fall in love
Just call me Miss Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood
Isn't there a man who understands me?
I want a lover that can satisfy the hunger of my lonely heart
Gotta have a lover with a PhD in undercover art
Now that I'm a woman
I'm always looking 4 romance (Romance)
I'm always looking 4 the perfect man
Who'd take me in his arms and understand, understand me
Just call me Miss Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood
Isn't there a man who understands...
Miss Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood
Isn't there a man who understands...
Miss (Miss, Miss) Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Death Of The Middle Class

Oligarchs and Banksters tighten financial screws
In a bold attempt to kill the global Middle Class
Heads of State unable/unwilling to halt this ruse
The “Great Depression of 1929” we soon surpass

ROTMS

By Andrew Gavin Marshall - Global Research

We now stand at the edge of the global financial abyss of a ‘Great Global Debt Depression, ’ where nations, mired in extreme debt, are beginning to implement ‘fiscal austerity’ measures to reduce their deficits, which will ultimately result in systematic global social genocide, as the middle classes vanish and the social foundations upon which our nations rest are swept away. How did we get here? Who brought us here? Where is this road leading? These are questions I will briefly attempt to answer.

At the heart of the global political economy is the central banking system. Central banks are responsible for printing a nation’s currency and setting interest rates, thus determining the value of the currency. This should no doubt be the prerogative of a national government, however, central banks are of a particularly deceptive nature, in which while being imbued with governmental authority, they are in fact privately owned by the world’s major global banks, and are thus profit-seeking institutions. How do central banks make a profit? The answer is simple: how do all banks make a profit? Interest on debt. Loans are made, interest rates are set, and profits are made. It is a system of debt, imperial economics at its finest.

In the United States, President Woodrow Wilson signed the Federal Reserve Act in 1913, creating the Federal Reserve System, with the Board located in Washington, appointed by the President, but where true power rested in the 12 regional banks, most notably among them, the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. The regional Fed banks were private banks, owned in shares by the major banks in each region, which elected the board members to represent them, and who would then share power with the Federal Reserve Board in Washington.

In the early 1920s, the Council on Foreign Relations was formed in the United States as the premier foreign policy think tank, dominated by powerful banking interests. In 1930, the Bank for International Settlements (BIS) was created to manage German reparations payments, but it also had another role, which was much less known, but much more significant. It was to act as a “coordinator of the operations of central banks around the world.” Essentially, it is the central bank for the world’s central banks, whose operations are kept ‘strictly confidential.’ As historian Carroll Quigley wrote:

'The powers of financial capitalism had another far-reaching aim, nothing less than to create a world system of financial control in private hands able to dominate the political system of each country and the economy of the world as a whole. This system was to be controlled in a feudalist fashion by the central banks of the world acting in concert, by secret agreements arrived at in frequent private meetings and conferences. The apex of the system was to be the Bank for International Settlements in Basel, Switzerland, a private bank owned and controlled by the world’s central banks which were themselves private corporations.'

In 1954, the Bilderberg Group was formed as a secretive global think tank, comprising intellectual, financial, corporate, political, military and media elites from Western Europe and North America, with prominent bankers such as David Rockefeller, as well as European royalty, such as the Dutch royal family, who are the largest shareholders in Royal Dutch Shell, whose CEO attends every meeting. This group of roughly 130 elites meets every year in secret to discuss and debate global affairs, and to set general goals and undertake broad agendas at various meetings. The group was initially formed to promote European integration. The 1956 meeting discussed European integration and a common currency. In fact, the current Chairman of the Bilderberg Group told European media last year that the euro was debated at the Bilderberg Group.

In 1973, David Rockefeller, Chairman and CEO of Chase Manhattan Bank, Chairman of the Council on Foreign Relations and a member of the Steering Committee of the Blderberg Group, formed the Trilateral Commission with CFR academic Zbigniew Brzezinski. That same year, the oil price shocks created a wealth of oil money, which was discussed at that years Bilderberg meeting 5 months prior to the oil shocks, and the money was funneled through western banks, which loaned it to ‘third world’ nations desperately in need of loans to finance industrialization.

When Jimmy Carter became President in 1977, he appointed over two dozen members of the Trilateral Commission into his cabinet, including himself, and of course, Zbigniew Brzezinski, who was his National Security Adviser. In 1979, Carter appointed David Rockefeller’s former aide and friend, Paul Volcker, who had held various positions at the Federal Reserve Bank of New York and the U.S. Treasury Department, and who also happened to be a member of the Trilateral Commission, as Chairman of the Federal Reserve. When another oil shock took place in 1979, Volcker decided to raise interest rates from 2% in the late 70s, to 18% in the early 80s. The effect this had was that the countries of the developing world suddenly had to pay enormous interest on their loans, and in 1982, Mexico announced it could no longer afford to pay its interest, and it defaulted on its debt, which set off the 1980s debt crisis – collapsing nations in debt across Latin America, Africa and parts of Asia.

It was the IMF and the World Bank came to the ‘assistance’ of the Third World with their ‘structural adjustment programs’, which forced countries seeking assistance to privatize all state owned industries and resources, devalue their currencies, liberalize their economies, dismantle health, education and social services; ultimately resulting in the re-colonization of the ‘Third World’ as Western corporations and banks bought all their assets and resources, and ultimately created the conditions of social genocide, with the spread of mass poverty, and the emergence of corrupt national elites who were subservient to the interests of Western elites. The people in these nations would protest, riot and rebel, and the states would clamp down with the police and military.

In the West, corporations and banks saw rapid, record-breaking profits. This was the era in which the term ‘globalization’ emerged. While profits soared, wages for people in the West did not. Thus, to consume in an economy in which prices were rising, people had to go into debt. This is why this era marked the rise of credit cards fueling consumption, and the middle class became a class based entirely on debt.

In the 1990s, the ‘new world order’ was born, with America ruling the global economy, free trade agreements began integrating regional and global markets for the benefit of global banks and corporations, and speculation dominated the economy.

The global economic crisis arose as a result of decades of global imperialism – known recently as ‘globalization’ – and the reckless growth of– speculation, derivatives and an explosion of debt. As the economic crisis spread, nations of the world, particularly the United States, bailed out the major banks (which should have been made to fail and crumble under their own corruption and greed) , and now the West has essentially privatized profits for the banks, and socialized the risk. In other words, the nations bought the debt from the banks, and now the people have to pay for it. The people, however, are immersed in their own personal debt to such degrees that today, the average Canadian is $39,000 in debt, and students are graduating into a jobless market with tens to hundreds of thousands of dollars of student debt that they will never repay. Hence, we are now faced with a global debt crisis.

To manage the economic crisis, the G20 was established as the major international forum for cooperation among the 20 major economies of the world, including the major developing – or emerging – economies, such as India, Brazil, South Africa and China. At the onset of the financial crisis, China and Russia’s central banks began calling for the establishment of a global currency to replace the U.S. dollar as the world reserve currency. This proposal was backed by the UN and the IMF. It should be noted, however, that the Chinese and Russian central banks cooperate with the Western central banks through the Bank for International Settlements – which the President of the European Central Bank, Jean-Claude Trichet, recently said was the principle forum for “governance of central bank cooperation” and that the G20 is “the prime group for global economic governance.” In 2009, the IMF stated that the BIS “is the central and the oldest focal point for coordination of global governance arrangements.” The President of the European Union, appointed to the position after attending a Bilderberg meeting, declared 2009 as the “first year of global governance.” The 2009 Bilderberg meeting reported on the desire to create a global treasury, or global central bank, to manage the world economy. In 2009, prior to the Bilderberg meeting in fact, the G20 set in motion plans to make the IMF a global central bank of sorts, issuing and even printing its own currency – called Special Drawing Rights (SDRs) – which is valued against a basket of currencies. In May of 2010, the IMF Managing Director stated that “crisis is an opportunity, ” and while Special Drawing Rights are a step in the right direction, ultimately what is needed is “a new global currency issued by a global central bank, with robust governance and institutional features.” Thus, we see the emergence of a process towards the formation of a global central bank and a global currency, totally unaccountable to any nation or people, and totally controlled by global banking interests.

In 2010, Greece was plunged into a debt crisis, a crisis which is now spreading across Europe, to the U.K. and eventually to Japan and the United States. If we look at Greece, we see the nature of the global debt crisis. The debt is owed to major European and American banks. To pay the interest on the debt, Greece had to get a loan from the European Central Bank and the IMF, which forced the country to impose ‘fiscal austerity’ measures as a condition for the loans, pressuring Greece to commit social genocide. Meanwhile, the major banks of America and Europe speculate against the Greek debt, further plunging the country into economic and social crisis. The loan is granted, to pay the interest, yet simply has the effect of adding to the overall debt, as a new loan is new debt. Thus, Greece is caught in the same debt trap that re-colonized the Third World.

At the recent G20 meeting in Toronto, the major nations of the world agreed to impose fiscal austerity – or in other words, commit social genocide – within their nations, in a veritable global structural adjustment program. So now we will see the beginnings of the Great Global Debt Depression, in which major western and global nations cut social spending, create mass unemployment by dismantling health, education, and social services. Further, state infrastructure – such as roads, bridges, airports, ports, railways, prisons, hospitals, electric transmission lines and water – will be privatized, so that global corporations and banks will own the entirely of national assets. Simultaneously, of course, taxes will be raised dramatically to levels never before seen. The BIS said that interest rates should rise at the same time, meaning that interest payments on debt will dramatically increase at both the national and individual level, forcing governments to turn to the IMF for loans – likely in the form of its new global reserve currency – to simply pay the interest, and will thus be absorbing more debt. Simultaneously, of course, the middle class will in effect have its debts called in, and since the middle class exists only as an illusion, the illusion will vanish.

Already, towns, cities, and states across America are resorting to drastic actions to reduce their debts, such as closing fire stations, scaling back trash collection, turning off street lights, ending bus services and public transportation, cutting back on library hours or closing them altogether, school districts cutting down the school day, week or year. Simultaneously, this is occurring with a dramatic increase in the rate of privatizations or “public-private partnerships” in which even libraries are being privatized.

No wonder then, that this month, the Managing Director of the IMF warned that America and Europe, in the midst of the worst jobs crisis since the Great Depression, face an “explosion of social unrest.” Just yesterday, Europe experienced a wave of mass protests and social unrest in opposition to ‘austerity measures’, with a general strike in Spain involving millions of people, and a march on the EU headquarters in Brussels of nearly 100,000 people. As social unrest spreads, governments will likely react – as we saw in the case of the G20 in Toronto – with oppressive police state measures. Here, we see the true relevance of the emergence of ‘Homeland Security States’, designed not to protect people from terrorists, but to protect the powerful from the people.

So while things have never seemed quite so bleak, there is a dim and growing beacon of hope, in what Zbigniew Brzezinski has termed as the greatest threat to elite interests everywhere – the ‘global political awakening’. The global political awakening is representative of the fact that for the first time in all of human history, mankind is politically awakened and stirring, activated and aware, and that generally – as Zbigniew Brzezinski explains – generally is aware of global inequalities, exploitation, and disrespect. This awakening is largely the result of the information revolution – thus revealing the contradictory nature of the globalization project – as while it globalizes power and oppression, so too does it globalize awareness and opposition. This awakening is the greatest threat to entrenched elite interests everywhere. The awakening, while having taken root in the global south – already long subjected to exploitation and devastation – is now stirring in the west, and will grow as the economy crumbles. As the middle classes realize their consumption was an illusion of wealth, they will seek answers and demand true change, not the Wall Street packaged ‘brand-name’ change of Obama Inc., but true, inspired, and empowering change.

In 1967, Martin Luther King delivered a speech in which he spoke out against the Vietnam War and the American empire, and he stated that, “It seems as if we are on the wrong side of a world revolution.” So now it seems to me that the time has come for that to change.

Andrew Gavin Marshall is a Research Associate with the Centre for Research on Globalization (CRG) .

poem by Ray Lucero
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Market Square Heroes

(derek dick, mark kelly, steve rothery, peter trewavas, michael pointer, brian jellyman, diz minnett)
I found smog at the end of my rainbow
I found my thoughts shift slowly into phase
Declared the constitution of the walkway
I realise its time to plan the day, the day
Im a market square hero gathering the storms to troop
Cause Im a market square hero speeding the beat of the streetpulse
Are you following me, are you following me?
Well suffer my pretty warriors and follow me
I got a golden handshake that nearly broke my arm
I left the ranks of shuffling graveyard people
I got rust upon my hands from the padlocked factory gates
Silent chimneys provide the silent steeples
Cause Im a market square hero gathering the storms to troop
Cause Im a market square hero speeding the beat of the streetpulse, the streetpulse
Are you following me? are you following me?
Well suffer my pretty children and follow me, follow me
Change, change, change!
Change, change, change!
I am your antichrist show me allegiance
Are you following me
I am your antichrist pledge to me defiance
Are you following me
Suffer my pretty warriors
Suffer my fallen child
Are you following me
The time has come to conquer and Ill provide your end
Suffer!
We march!
I give peace signs when I wage war in the disco
Im the warrior in the ultra violet haze
Armed with antisocial insecurity
I plan the path of destiny from this maze
Cause Im a market square hero gathering the storms to troop
Cause Im a market square hero speeding the beat of the streetpulse, the streetpulse
Are you following me? are you following me?
Well suffer my fallen angels and follow me
Im the market square hero
Im the market square hero
Were market square heroes
Were the market square heroes
Are you following me?
Im the market square hero!

song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks

1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass

Under the old trees with rosy fruit.

In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a

basket,

The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.

Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.

Fayne snatched for it and missed;

Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small

Finely cut features in a dance of delight;

Fayne with one sweep flung at his face

All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Sixth Book

THE English have a scornful insular way
Of calling the French light. The levity
Is in the judgment only, which yet stands;
For say a foolish thing but oft enough,
(And here's the secret of a hundred creeds,–
Men get opinions as boys learn to spell,
By re-iteration chiefly) the same thing
Shall pass at least for absolutely wise,
And not with fools exclusively. And so,
We say the French are light, as if we said
The cat mews, or the milch-cow gives us milk:
Say rather, cats are milked, and milch cows mew,
For what is lightness but inconsequence,
Vague fluctuation 'twixt effect and cause,
Compelled by neither? Is a bullet light,
That dashes from the gun-mouth, while the eye
Winks, and the heart beats one, to flatten itself
To a wafer on the white speck on a wall
A hundred paces off? Even so direct,
So sternly undivertible of aim,
Is this French people.
All idealists
Too absolute and earnest, with them all
The idea of a knife cuts real flesh;
And still, devouring the safe interval
Which Nature placed between the thought and act,
They threaten conflagration to the world
And rush with most unscrupulous logic on
Impossible practice. Set your orators
To blow upon them with loud windy mouths
Through watchword phrases, jest or sentiment,
Which drive our burley brutal English mobs
Like so much chaff, whichever way they blow,–
This light French people will not thus be driven.
They turn indeed; but then they turn upon
Some central pivot of their thought and choice,
And veer out by the force of holding fast.
–That's hard to understand, for Englishmen
Unused to abstract questions, and untrained
To trace the involutions, valve by valve,
In each orbed bulb-root of a general truth,
And mark what subtly fine integument
Divides opposed compartments. Freedom's self
Comes concrete to us, to be understood,
Fixed in a feudal form incarnately
To suit our ways of thought and reverence,
The special form, with us, being still the thing.
With us, I say, though I'm of Italy
My mother's birth and grave, by father's grave
And memory; let it be,–a poet's heart

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Surprise Me Again

Well I remember the day when she said go away
I rearrange my hair
Well I cant take anymore
I bought some natural food
And then I fell on the floor
Well I cant take anymore
I need a change of address
By the way, why cant you smile
She said at first it was great
And in the middle I stayed
But at the end I was sick
I said Ive got to get out quick
Then you suddenly smiled
You took me by surprise
You suddenly smiled
You took me by again
Well I remember the time
Wrapped up nice and cosy
She was washing my hair
Well I was thinking of midnight, falling in love
Watching the rain fall
When we relax Im going to sleep on your chest
And listen to your beats
And lets go to norway, live in rain and snow
And get totally depressed about nothing
At all really hello
Then you suddenly smiled
You took me by surprise
You suddenly smiled
You took me by again
You suddenly smiled
You suddenly smiled, again and again
You cant smile
Then you suddenly smiled
You took me by surprise
You suddenly smiled
You took me by again
You suddenly smiled
You suddenly smiled
You suddenly smiled
You suddenly smiled
You took me by again

song performed by Haircut 100
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Eleventh

I
When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter,"
And proved it -- 't was no matter what he said:
They say his system 't is in vain to batter,
Too subtle for the airiest human head;
And yet who can believe it? I would shatter
Gladly all matters down to stone or lead,
Or adamant, to find the world a spirit,
And wear my head, denying that I wear it.

II
What a sublime discovery 't was to make the
Universe universal egotism,
That all's ideal -- all ourselves! -- I'll stake the
World (be it what you will) that that's no schism.
Oh Doubt! -- if thou be'st Doubt, for which some take thee;
But which I doubt extremely -- thou sole prism
Of the Truth's rays, spoil not my draught of spirit!
Heaven's brandy, though our brain can hardly bear it.

III
For ever and anon comes Indigestion,
(Not the most "dainty Ariel") and perplexes
Our soarings with another sort of question:
And that which after all my spirit vexes,
Is, that I find no spot where man can rest eye on,
Without confusion of the sorts and sexes,
Of beings, stars, and this unriddled wonder,
The world, which at the worst's a glorious blunder --

IV
If it be chance; or if it be according
To the old text, still better: -- lest it should
Turn out so, we'll say nothing 'gainst the wording,
As several people think such hazards rude.
They're right; our days are too brief for affording
Space to dispute what no one ever could
Decide, and everybody one day will
Know very clearly -- or at least lie still.

V
And therefore will I leave off metaphysical
Discussion, which is neither here nor there:
If I agree that what is, is; then this I call
Being quite perspicuous and extremely fair;
The truth is, I've grown lately rather phthisical:
I don't know what the reason is -- the air
Perhaps; but as I suffer from the shocks
Of illness, I grow much more orthodox.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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Don Juan: Canto the Eleventh

I
When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter,"
And proved it--'twas no matter what he sald:
They say his system 'tis in vain to batter,
Too subtle for the airiest human head;
And yet who can believe it! I would shatter
Gladly all matters down to stone or lead,
Or adamant, to find the World a spirit,
And wear my head, denying that I wear it.II
What a sublime discovery 'twas to make the
Universe universal egotism,
That all's ideal--all ourselves: I'll stake the
World (be it what you will) that that's no schism.
Oh Doubt!--if thou be'st Doubt, for which some take thee,
But which I doubt extremely--thou sole prism
Of the Truth's rays, spoil not my draught of spirit!
Heaven's brandy, though our brain can hardly bear it.III

For ever and anon comes Indigestion
(Not the most "dainty Ariel") and perplexes
Our soarings with another sort of question:
And that which after all my spirit vexes,
Is, that I find no spot where Man can rest eye on,
Without confusion of the sorts and sexes,
Of beings, stars, and this unriddled wonder,
The World, which at the worst's a glorious blunder--IV

If it be chance--or, if it be according
To the Old Text, still better: lest it should
Turn out so, we'll say nothing 'gainst the wording,
As several people think such hazards rude.
They're right; our days are too brief for affording
Space to dispute what no one ever could
Decide, and everybody one day will
Know very clearly--or at least lie still.V

And therefore will I leave off metaphysical
Discussion, which is neither here nor there:
If I agree that what is, is; then this I call
Being quite perspicuous and extremely fair.
The truth is, I've grown lately rather phthisical:
I don't know what the reason is--the air
Perhaps; but as I suffer from the shocks
Of illness, I grow much more orthodox.VI

The first attack at once prov'd the Divinity
(But that I never doubted, nor the Devil);
The next, the Virgin's mystical virginity;
The third, the usual Origin of Evil;
The fourth at once establish'd the whole Trinity

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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A Smile Like Yours

Hmm, thought Id seen everything there was to see in this world
Now Im not so sure Ive really seen anything at all
I thought life could show me no surprises
And then you came and showed me I was wrong
I have seen the bluest skies, rainbows that would make you cry
I have seen miracles that moved my soul, days that changed my life
I have seen the brightest stars shine like diamonds in the dark
Seen all the wonders of the world, but Ive never seen a smile
As beautiful as yours, ooh, ooh, ooh, oh, I thought Id been everywhere
Ive climbed a mountain so high, sailed the sea, crossed the sky
And still I was nowhere at all, until that day, oh, you came to my senses
And your smile, it made sense out of it all, (I have seen the bluest skies)
Rainbows that would make you cry, I have seen miracles
(miracles that moved me soul) that moved my soul, days that changed my life,
I have seen the brightest stars shine like diamonds in the dark
Seen all the wonders of the world, but Ive never seen a smile as beautiful as yours
(smile so beautiful) so beautiful, comes one time in a lifetime
A smile this beautiful, (a smile this beautiful) Ive never dreamed Id ever see, oh
(I have seen the bluest skies) I have seen it, (rainbows that would make you cry)
That would make you cry, Ive seen miracles (miracles) moved my soul,
(days that changed my life) and days that changed my life
I have seen the brightest stars shine like diamonds in the dark
Oh, Ive seen the wonders of this world (wonders of the world)
But Ive never seen a smile (never seen a smile before as beautiful as yours)
Oh, Ive never seen a smile before, (never seen a smile before as beautiful)
As beautiful as yours.

song performed by Natalie Cole
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lancelot And Elaine

Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot;
Which first she placed where the morning's earliest ray
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam;
Then fearing rust or soilure fashioned for it
A case of silk, and braided thereupon
All the devices blazoned on the shield
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,
A border fantasy of branch and flower,
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.
Nor rested thus content, but day by day,
Leaving her household and good father, climbed
That eastern tower, and entering barred her door,
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield,
Now guessed a hidden meaning in his arms,
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it,
And every scratch a lance had made upon it,
Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh;
That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle;
That at Caerleon; this at Camelot:
And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there!
And here a thrust that might have killed, but God
Broke the strong lance, and rolled his enemy down,
And saved him: so she lived in fantasy.

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

For Arthur, long before they crowned him King,
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,
Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn.
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave
Like its own mists to all the mountain side:
For here two brothers, one a king, had met
And fought together; but their names were lost;
And each had slain his brother at a blow;
And down they fell and made the glen abhorred:
And there they lay till all their bones were bleached,
And lichened into colour with the crags:
And he, that once was king, had on a crown
Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside.
And Arthur came, and labouring up the pass,
All in a misty moonshine, unawares

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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