Evils Hidden
Its the nasty little sting of corrupt
Its the morbid fascination of ones mind
A certain kind of psychopathic personality
That bends, their souls, into unkind.
Its the idenity crisis, billowing inside
Its the omnipotentent grandiose of manic
Of such a beast as this
That stirs a whole site and family into panic.
Its the difference in our nationalities
For i am french-norwegian-italian and he, irish
That pulls at his grotesque psyche,
As he turns us, all into his fish.
He has his reasoning down pat
A Philosophical sort of tirade, of heck
About stealing from the poor to feed the rich
When truth be, most all, of we, live pay check to paycheck!
Its his nasty sort of darkness, that taunts
But opens us, once, a blind eye
Do believe, that if Satan is alive on Earth, today
You would find him ablaze, in this guy!
Dedicated to: The Ringleader of Poem Theft
'To clone or not to clone, that is the question'
poem by Theodora Onken
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Related quotes
Fascination
Got to use her
Every time I feel fascination
I just cant stand still, Ive got to use her
Every time I think of what you pulled me through, dear
Fascination moves sweeping near me
Still I take ya
(fascination) fascination
(sure nuff) fascination
(takes a part of me) takes a part of me
(can a heart-beat) can a heart-beat
(live in a fever) live in a fever?
(raging inside of me? )
(fascination) fascination
(oh, yeah) oh yeah
(takes a part of me) takes a part of me
(I cant help it) I cant help it
(Ive got to use her) got to use her
(every time, ooh)
Fascination comes around
(ooh-oo-ooh)
(fascination) your soul is calling
Like when Im walking
Seems that everywhere I turn
I hope youre waiting for me
I know that people think
That Im a little crazy
Ohh, better sex is fun
I think I like fascination
Still, tick
(fascination) fascination
(sure nuff) ohh
(takes a part of me) come on, come on, come on, come on, come on
(can a heart-beat) can a heart-beat
(live in a fever) live in a fever?
(raging inside of me? ) raging inside of me
(fascination) fascination
(oh, yeah) oh yeah
(takes a part of me) come on, come on, come on, come on
(I cant help it) I cant help it
(Ive got to use her) got to
(every time, ooh)
Fascination comes around (ahhhh)
(ooh-oo-ooh)
(fascination) sure nuff
(sure nuff) takes a part of me
(takes a part of me) can a heart-beat
(can a heart-beat) live in a fever?
(live in a fever) raging
(raging inside of me? ) mmmm
Fascination
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nasty Girl
Thats right, pleased to meet u
I still [dont wanna/wont] tell u my name
Dont u believe in mystery?
Dont u wanna play my game?
Im lookin for a man to love me
Like I never been loved before
Im lookin for a man thatll do it anywhere
Even on [the/a] limousinse floor
Cuz
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy.
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Tonight, living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
I guess Im just used to sailors
I think they got water on the brain
I think they got more water upstairs
Than they got sugar on [the/a] candy cane
Thats right, its been a long time
Since I had a man [who/that] did it real good
If u aint scared, take it out
Ill do it like a real live nasty girl should
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Please, please
Please, please
Nasty girl (nasty girl)
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Nasty girl (nasty girl)
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Nasty girl (nasty girl)
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Nasty girl (nasty girl)
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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People Panic
Tripped out,
Over their finances.
Doubts begin to cloud their minds...
With a suggestion to breathe deeply.
To prevent a panic to exist.
And if they don't breathe deeply,
That's exactly what they'll find!
That's exactly what they'll get...
Panic!
But do people listen?
No!
Is common sense from them missing?
Well...
I don't want to pass,
That as harrassment.
But if I'm allowed,
I would choose to brag.
I don't want to pass,
That as harrassment.
But people seem to get,
Just what they ask!
And everywhere you go,
You'll see them in their stubbornness to give!
In 'fits' like spoiled little kids.
And everywhere you go,
You'll see them in their stubbornness to give!
In 'fits' like spoiled little kids.
But do people listen?
No!
Is common sense from them missing?
Well...
I don't want to pass,
That as harrassment.
But if I'm allowed,
I would choose to brag.
Tripped out,
Over their finances.
Doubts begin to cloud their minds...
With a suggestion to breathe deeply.
To prevent a panic to exist.
And if they don't breathe deeply,
That's exactly what they'll find!
That's exactly what they'll get...
Panic!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nasty Habits
Heres something to think about
Where would we be without nasty habits, nasty habits
Makes me want to scream and shout
Life would be so dull without nasty habits, nasty habits
All those naughty little things that we dont discuss publicly
Nasty habits, nasty habits
Tell me your secrets, tell me your name, tell me your secrets
Does it please you to employ little girls or little boys
Nasty habits, nasty habits
Do you like to romp and play by yourself when theyre away
Nasty affair what do I care
Do you peek at magazines filled with doggies and leather queens
Nasty habits, nasty habits
Tell me your secrets that no one should hear
Whisper them softly into my ear I wont tell, I wont tell
People act so proper when theyre going bout their business
Cup of coffee, lfriendly conversation
til they get home,
til they get home
Turn the phone off, lock the door and shut the curtains
Make sure that the neighbors are without suspicion
No one will know
No one will know
Nasty habits I must condone
No one knows what I do when Im all alone
Nasty habits Im so ashamed
Nasty habits here to stay now theyll never go away
Try and stop youll have to pay
Nasty habits are here to stay
(repeat chorus)
Nasty habits I must condone
No one knows what I do when Im all alone
Nasty habits Im so ashamed
But we must not let that stop our little game
Nasty habits are so much fun
Nasty habits here to stay now theyll never go away
Try and stop youll have to pay
Nasty habits are here to stay
song performed by Oingo Boingo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Beauty And The Beast
A Merchant, who by generous pains
Prospered in honourable gains,
Could boast, his wealth and fame to share,
Three manly Sons, three Daughters fair;
With these he felt supremely blest.-
His latest born surpass'd the rest:
She was so gentle, good and kind,
So fair in feature, form, and mind,
So constant too in filial duty,
The neighbours called her Little Beauty!
And when fair childhood's days were run,
That title still she wore and won;
Lovelier as older still she grew,
Improv'd in grace and goodness too.-
Her elder Sisters, gay and vain,
View'd her with envy and disdain,
Toss'd up their heads with haughty air;
Dress, Fashion, Pleasure, all their care.
'Twas thus, improving and improv'd;
Loving, and worthy to be lov'd,
Sprightly, yet grave, each circling day
Saw Beauty innocently gay.
Thus smooth the May-like moments past;
Blest times! but soon by clouds o'ercast!
Sudden as winds that madd'ning sweep
The foaming surface of the deep,
Vast treasures, trusted to the wave,
Were buried in the billowy grave!
Our Merchant, late of boundless store,
Saw Famine hasting to his door.
With willing hand and ready grace,
Mild Beauty takes the Servant's place;
Rose with the sun to household cares,
And morn's repast with zeal prepares,
The wholesome meal, the cheerful fire:
What cannot filial love inspire?
And when the task of day was done,
Suspended till the rising sun,
Music and song the hours employ'd,
As more deserv'd, the more enjoy'd;
Till Industry, with Pastime join'd,
Refresh'd the body and the mind;
And when the groupe retir'd to rest,
Father and Brothers Beauty blest.
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Lamb
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Expostulations Of The Child-Man, The Pope In Italian Miniatures - A Mystery
The pope in Italian
exclaims, 'Bring me! '
and the echoes bring to him
his bounded wants.
The pope in Italian
twirls his fake mustache, hides behind curtains layered
thick, plots the Blessed Virgin tied upon the tracks, his
dramatic rescue of Her, the imagined headline, Greatest Of Popes.
The pope in Italian
embraces a Statue of St. Micheal when the
guards are not looking, whispers the hour of
the deed, pleads for advancement of the plot.
The pope in Italian
blesses conspiring shadows in mirrored tiles reflecting back, the
guards pretend not to notice his continual muttering, the halting gait,
the concealed silk handkerchief purposefully dropped, they wink at each other.
The pope in Italian
drunk with authority privately erases Sacred Texts with
a child's thick pencil, pardons his large fines for overdue books,
cancels the Vatican subscription to Mystery Magazine.
The pope in Italian
questions Michelangelo 'of hammers, of stone and nakedness,
the heart of the matter, ' whistles when the Artist answers,
and looks away, fingers crossed.
The pope in Italian
wears a black beret, feels his tragedy,
'another fig in hand, ' refills his goblet,
calls for a clean ashtray, another pack of Gauloises.*
The pope in Italian
feeling frisky, ice skates, holds high
his brocaded robes revealing the boyish legs, white,
they are so white, like necks of swans.
The pope in Italian
dreams again he is a young
bomber pilot dropping heavy kisses
backed up in the bomb-bay.
The pope in Italian
hides sullen behind the Golden Chair, carves his
initials there, the fateful date in Roman numerals, and
QUID EST QUOD OMNES PEGGY LEE (Is that all there is, Peggy Lee?) .
[...] Read more
poem by Warren Falcon
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Defeating...That Beast
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
Think about the distance you've come,
Defeating...the beast.
Think about your decision not to run,
Away...from the beast.
Think about those knees on the ground,
Weeping for the beast.
Think about the dirt you ate,
Fed...by the beast.
Think about celebrating...
Those days ahead awaiting!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
No longer the martyr,
Defeating...that beast.
Get up...and strut about.
You've defeated...that beast.
Let those words come out of your mouth,
'I've defeated...that beast! '
Let the people see and believe it,
You've defeated...that beast.
Whoop...and hollar about,
'I've defeated...and done feeding it!
That beast is outta my house.'
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cruel Young Lover
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Just because you can
You treat me like a fool
But just because you can
Dont make it right
Can it be so hard
To be a little kind
And you could be here
With me tonight
Ive got feelings
Dont be unkind
Feelings
Dont be unkind
Feelings
Stay with me tonight
Youve been stealing
Thats so unkind
Stealing
A heart, a mind
Stealing
Stay with me tonight
Cruel young lover
Blow your mind out
Time will come when
You will find out
Time will take your cruel power away
Cruel young lover
Try to stand out
Will it always pay
To bland out?
Time will take your cruel power away
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Once again youre gone
Somewhere in the night
Disappearing
Leaving me alone
The lure of city streets
The pull of unknown souls
The overpowering draw
[...] Read more
song performed by Human League
Added by Lucian Velea
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What A Difference Youve Made
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
Oh, what a difference youve made
In my life.
What a change you have made in my heart.
What a change you have made in my heart.
You replaced all the broken parts.
Oh, what a change you have made
In my heart.
Love to me was just a word in a song
That had been way overused.
But you gave love a meaning,
So I joined in the singing,
Thats why I wanna spread the news.
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
Oh, what a difference youve made,
(what a difference youve made,)
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
What a difference youve made in my life.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Difference youve made in my life.
(youre my sunshine day and night.)
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Difference youve made in my life.
(difference youve made in my life.)
Youre my sunshine day and night.
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Youve made a difference in me.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Youve made a change in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
song performed by Amy Grant
Added by Lucian Velea
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Variations At Home And Abroad
It takes a lot of a person's life
To be French, or English, or American
Or Italian. And to be at any age. To live at any certain time.
The Polish-born resident of Manhattan is not merely a representative of
general humanity
And neither is this Sicilian fisherman stringing his bait
Or to be any gender, born where or when
Betty holding a big plate
Karen crossing her post-World War Two legs
And smiling across the table
These three Italian boys age about twenty gesturing and talking
And laughing after they get off the train
Seem fifty percent Italian and the rest percent just plain
Human race.
O mystery of growing up! O history of going to school!
O lovers O enchantments!
The subject is not over because the photograph is over.
The photographer sits down. Murnau makes the movie.
Everything is a little bit off, but has a nationality.
The oysters won't help the refugees off the boats,
Only other human creatures will. The phone rings and the Albanian
nationalist sits down.
When he gets up he hasn't become a Russian émigré or a German circus
clown
A woman is carrying a basket—a beautiful sight! She is in and of
Madagascar.
The uniformed Malay policeman sniffs the beer barrel that the brothers of
Ludwig are bringing close to him.
All humanity likes to get drunk! Are differences then all on the surface?
But even every surface gets hot
In the sun. It may be that the surface is where we are all alike!
But man and woman show that this isn't true.
We will get by, though. The train is puffing at the station
But the station isn't puffing at the train. This difference allows for a sense
of community
As when people feel really glad to have cats and dogs
And some even a few mice in the chimney. We are not alone
In the universe, and the diversity causes comfort as well as difficulty.
To be Italian takes at least half the day. To be Chinese seven-eighths of it.
Only at evening when Chang Ho, repast over, sits down to smoke
Is he exclusively human, in the way the train is exclusively itself when it is
in motion
But that's to say it wrongly. His being human is also his being seven-eighths
Chinese.
Falling in love one may get, say, twenty percent back
Toward universality, though that is probably all. Then when love's gone
One's Nigerianness increases, or one's quality of being of Nepal.
An American may start out wishing
To be everybody or that everybody were the same
[...] Read more
poem by Kenneth Koch
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Give Ireland Back To The Irish
Give ireland back to the irish
Dont make them have to take it away
Give ireland back to the irish
Make ireland irish today
Great britian you are tremendous
And nobody knows like me
But really what are you doin
In the land across the sea
Tell me how would you like it
If on your way to work
You were stopped by irish soliders
Would you lie down do nothing
Would you give in, or go berserk
Give ireland back to the irish
Dont make them have to take it away
Give ireland back to the irish
Make ireland irish today
Great britian and all the people
Say that all people must be free
Meanwhile back in ireland
Theres a man who looks like me
And he dreams of God and country
And hes feeling really bad
And hes sitting in a prison
Should he lie down do nothing
Should give in or go mad
Give ireland back to the irish
Dont make them have to take it away
Give ireland back to the irish
Make ireland irish today
Give ireland back to the irish
Dont make them have to take it away
Give ireland back to the irish
Make ireland irish today
song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fascination
Fascination
I want u
Fascination
I want u, I do
Fascination chamber lands on the round that kills
The art u hoped 2 mirror like
Leaves blood upon the sill
The dream u keep dreaming, is better than the life u lead
The papers run out a day and 13 hours, b4 the weed, its so high
Fascination
Still I want u
Fascination
Still I want u, I do
The head u thought was rolling, is now reason 2 b bored
The rapper that gave that head will thank his manager b4 the lord
And the headache that u moan about feels much better than the treatment would
The pills gonna leave a side effect
Thatll take another pill 2 correct
And the whole thing is leaving u feeling less than good
And u still high
...nation
Fascination
Fascination
Fascination
Do u mind if I just watch u shake it
Shake it {4x}
...nation
I want u
Fascination
I want u, I do
The most vital thing u thought
Is the epitome of doom
U can wake-up in cold sweat
Cause 1 of them is in ure room
Singin on the tele
Making more bucks than sense
So called king gives birth 2 so called ... prince
A breakups bitter taste
Still here when the love is gone
And the breaks u wish 4
Finally comes among in song
Working it out
Work, work, work, working it out
Fascination
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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The Battle of Waterloo
'Twas in the year 1815, and on the 18th day of June,
That British cannon, against the French army, loudly did boom,
Upon the ever memorable bloody field of Waterloo;
Which Napoleon remembered while in St. Helena, and bitterly did rue.
The morning of the 18th was gloomy and cheerless to behold,
But the British soon recovered from the severe cold
That they had endured the previous rainy night;
And each man prepared to burnish his arms for the coming fight.
Then the morning passed in mutual arrangements for battle,
And the French guns, at half-past eleven, loudly did rattle;
And immediately the order for attack was given,
Then the bullets flew like lightning till the Heaven's seemed riven.
The place from which Bonaparte viewed the bloody field
Was the farmhouse of La Belle Alliance, which some protection did yield;
And there he remained for the most part of the day,
Pacing to and fro with his hands behind him in doubtful dismay.
The Duke of Wellington stood upon a bridge behind La Haye,
And viewed the British army in all their grand array,
And where danger threatened most the noble Duke was found
In the midst of shot and shell on every side around.
Hougemont was the key of the Duke of Wellington's position,
A spot that was naturally very strong, and a great acqusition
To the Duke and his staff during the day,
Which the Coldstream Guards held to the last, without dismay.
The French 2nd Corps were principally directed during the day
To carry Hougemont farmhouse without delay;
So the farmhouse in quick succession they did attack,
But the British guns on the heights above soon drove them back.
But still the heavy shot and shells ploughed through the walls;
Yet the brave Guards resolved to hold the place no matter what befalls;
And they fought manfully to the last, with courage unshaken,
Until the tower of Hougemont was in a blaze but still it remained untaken.
By these desperate attacks Napoleon lost ten thousand men,
And left them weltering in their gore like sheep in a pen;
And the British lost one thousand men-- which wasn't very great,
Because the great Napoleon met with a crushing defeat.
The advance of Napoleon on the right was really very fine,
Which was followed by a general onset upon the British line,
In which three hundred pieces of artillery opened their cannonade;
But the British artillery played upon them, and great courage displayed.
For ten long hours it was a continued succession of attacks;
[...] Read more
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Rx Queen
I wont stop following you
Now help me pray for
The death of everything new
Then well fly farther
cause your my girl and thats alright
If you sting me, I wont mind
Well stop to rest on the moon
Well make a fire
Ill steal a carcass for you
Then feed off the virus
Cause your my girl and thats alright
If you sting me, I wont mind
Cause your my girl and thats alright
If you sting me, I wont mind
Now lookout
Lookout now
Lookout - sting
Now lookout
Lookout now
Lookout - sting
Now lookout
Lookout now
Lookout - sting
Now lookout
Lookout now
Lookout - sting
I see a red light in june
And I hear crying
You turn newborn baby blue
Now were all the virus
Your my girl and thats alright
If you sting me, I wont mind
Cause your my girl and thats alright
If you sting me, I wont mind
Now lookout
Lookout now
Lookout - sting
Now lookout
Lookout now
Lookout - sting
Now lookout
Lookout now
Lookout - sting
Now lookout
Lookout now
Lookout - sting...
Sting...
Lookout now, lookout now
Lookout now, lookout now...stay
Lookout now, lookout now
[...] Read more
song performed by Deftones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yips
When focusing too hard on putts
golfers suffer from the yips,
and those who focus hard on butts
and breasts and what’s below the hips
may not obtain a hole in one
because most eagles fly away,
and though a birdie can be fun
you’ll never catch one if you play
too focused. Nonchalance will launch
in sex, as golf, a thousand ships,
and when you’re ready for some raunch,
soft-focus rescues you from yips.
Inspired by an article by Katie Thomas in the NYT on August 1 explaining the phenomenon of yip[s which plagues archersm, golfers and all people who aim to carefully at targets (“The Secret Curse of Expert Archers”) :
There is an affliction so feared by elite archers that many in the sport refuse to even say its name. Archery coaches who specialize in treating the problem are sworn not to reveal the identities of archers in its grip, even though they estimate that 90 percent of high-level competitors will fall victim at least once in their careers. Target panic, as the condition is known, causes crack shots to suddenly lose control of their bows and their composure. Mysteriously, sufferers start releasing the bow the instant they see the target, sabotaging any chance of a gold-medal shot. Others freeze up and cannot release at all. Target panic is akin to the yips in baseball and golf, when accomplished athletes can no longer make a simple throw to first base or stroke an easy putt. The results can be mortifying, and archery is filled with tales of those who have caught the curse, never to shoot again. The problem has spawned a cottage industry of coaches, books and specialized accessories that claim to cure target panic….Lanny Bassham, a former Olympic rifle shooter and mental coach whose clients include the Olympic archer Brady Ellison, said the archery community had a peculiar obsession with target panic, which he noted had a horrifying ring. “The words target panic have induced an unnecessary amount of severity and concern about this condition among archers, ” he said. “I think if they had a better word for it, they’d have a lot less problem trying to cure it.” Many archers and their coaches refuse to say target panic. Those words are forbidden around the Nichols household, which is home to the Olympic archer Jennifer Nichols and her younger sister, Amanda, also a world-class competitor. “We try to stay away from the labels that are put on things by people in the archery industry because once you feel you’ve got that label, it’s hard to stay away from it, ” said their father, Brent Nichols. “We don’t want to hear those things.” Theories vary on how to cure target panic. Some switch their shooting hand, or change their grip slightly — techniques that have also proved successful in golf. Others use visualization techniques and positive reinforcement. Wunderle advises his clients to imagine seeing and feeling what a good shot is, without focusing on aiming the arrow. “Do not focus on results, ” he said. “When you focus on results, it builds anxiety. And anxiety is the kiss of death.” One of the most popular cures is to entirely remove the target. Sufferers instead practice shooting at a blank target, sometimes for weeks at a time, to retrain the mind. “The empty bale restores your confidence in your subconscious, ” said Bernie Pellerite, author of the book “Idiot Proof Archery” and a self-described expert on target panic. “Nobody flinches or punches or chokes on an empty bale.” Hunt spent weeks shooting at blank targets, but he also purchased a special release for his bow, which helped retrain him when to shoot. “It’s trying to engrave in your head when you should shoot, ” he said. “You just pull it back, let the safety off, and pull it until it decides to go. Then you get used to every shot being perfect.” Hunt placed second in his age group at the Junior Olympic Archery Development national championships in Oklahoma City earlier this month. His target panic, he said, had been cured. For now. There is an affliction so feared by elite archers that many in the sport refuse to even say its name. Archery coaches who specialize in treating the problem are sworn not to reveal the identities of archers in its grip, even though they estimate that 90 percent of high-level competitors will fall victim at least once in their careers. Target panic, as the condition is known, causes crack shots to suddenly lose control of their bows and their composure. Mysteriously, sufferers start releasing the bow the instant they see the target, sabotaging any chance of a gold-medal shot. Others freeze up and cannot release at all. Target panic is akin to the yips in baseball and golf, when accomplished athletes can no longer make a simple throw to first base or stroke an easy putt. The results can be mortifying, and archery is filled with tales of those who have caught the curse, never to shoot again. The problem has spawned a cottage industry of coaches, books and specialized accessories that claim to cure target panic.
8/20/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Book III - Part 03 - The Soul is Mortal
Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Have mortal birth and death, I will go on
Verses to build meet for thy rule of life,
Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil.
But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both;
And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul,
Teaching the same to be but mortal, think
Thereby I'm speaking also of the mind-
Since both are one, a substance interjoined.
First, then, since I have taught how soul exists
A subtle fabric, of particles minute,
Made up from atoms smaller much than those
Of water's liquid damp, or fog, or smoke,
So in mobility it far excels,
More prone to move, though strook by lighter cause
Even moved by images of smoke or fog-
As where we view, when in our sleeps we're lulled,
The altars exhaling steam and smoke aloft-
For, beyond doubt, these apparitions come
To us from outward. Now, then, since thou seest,
Their liquids depart, their waters flow away,
When jars are shivered, and since fog and smoke
Depart into the winds away, believe
The soul no less is shed abroad and dies
More quickly far, more quickly is dissolved
Back to its primal bodies, when withdrawn
From out man's members it has gone away.
For, sure, if body (container of the same
Like as a jar), when shivered from some cause,
And rarefied by loss of blood from veins,
Cannot for longer hold the soul, how then
Thinkst thou it can be held by any air-
A stuff much rarer than our bodies be?
Besides we feel that mind to being comes
Along with body, with body grows and ages.
For just as children totter round about
With frames infirm and tender, so there follows
A weakling wisdom in their minds; and then,
Where years have ripened into robust powers,
Counsel is also greater, more increased
The power of mind; thereafter, where already
The body's shattered by master-powers of eld,
And fallen the frame with its enfeebled powers,
Thought hobbles, tongue wanders, and the mind gives way;
All fails, all's lacking at the selfsame time.
Therefore it suits that even the soul's dissolved,
Like smoke, into the lofty winds of air;
[...] Read more
poem by Lucretius
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Blue Skinned Beast
I can fly you to your loved ones but I can promise no return
To a shell-shocked God forsaken where their craters still they burn
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Still the worst is over that I hope you understand
The youre one more hurdle over our protector of the land
Have a drink on me
I put it down to the company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Here you have this medal you can even melt it down
Or frame it in the living room every time you turn around
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
I heard you shout for yesterday, but I was sleeping on the job
And I dreamt of fighters miles away whose lives I had to rob
Have a drink on me
I put it down to the company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Here you have this medal you can even melt it down
Or frame it in the living room every time you turn around
I can fly your loved ones to you
With guarantee of no return
And if john waynes dummys bounce off
Dont look shocked when it comes your turn
Have a drink on me
I put it down to company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Hip hip !
Hip hip !
Hip hip hip hip !
Hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Hip hip hip hip !
Hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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Three Women
My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.
Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.
Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.
Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.
1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.
Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,
[...] Read more
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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