United States committing genocide on its border with Mexico by using Death as a Deterrant.

The Funnel Effect (http://www.ailf.org/ipc/policybrief/policybrief_020607.shtml) was and is knowingly CAUSED by securing the borders with Mexico in areas that are passable, relatively safe and had been used for decades if not centuries for the natural immigrations of Latin American peoples. The United States knowingly created an open "no man's land" in the Sonoran Desert to be used as a deterrant to immigration. The deterrant used?

Death itself.

And it's working but not as a deterrant. It is successful simply as a means of killing illegal immigrants by torturous means.

Truth of the matter is....I lived in Saudi Arabia where there were over 18 million LEGAL foreign workers. Want to know how that country achieved a somewhat fair solution?

They made the business owners who imported labor pay for the worker's health care and made them provide housing. Sure, it wasn't perfect but it was certainly better than what the US has managed to do.

Confused about life? Take this 10 minute Ninternship and you'll be just fine.

BBC Journalist admits to drinking the 9/11 Kool-Aid (****Jim Jones Highball):




I'm still quite amazed that people buy the 9/11 story as portrayed by the government of the United States. Are they nuts?

Absolutely. It is called Mass Hysteria and it is alive and well in the minds of so many Americans.

About the only thing that is "alive and well" in them if you ask me. Sheesh, one out of four teenage girls infected with a genital disease or two and the United States with 1 out of every 100 citizens in jail (when we constitute a mere 5% of the population of the world and that is a startling statistic).

For that matter, here is an ALARMING FACTOID:

http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/978043.html

Now....put the thinking cap on for a minute (and a change). Israel bombs a what?

A NUCLEAR (or as Bushies say, nucular) REACTOR in Syria (luckily it wasn't one) and no one bats an eyelash at the POTENTIAL DISASTER this would have been had it actually been what Israel (and the US) said it was?

Duh. I mean DUH.

Here is the Ninja's famous Recipe for Disaster:

"Janoubi" means "One from the South" i.e. South Lebanon.

The Colonialist With A Thousand Faces
- Allah bears witness that there is no god but He, 3:18

Up on highway eighty
you can see what fire does
and what it does not.
I have to wonder about the two
British ladies in Tombstone
who wanted to go to the
Chicawow-wows, to Apache lands.
One of them
just now wearing
her new wide-brimmed hat,
one of them hoping
for the Organ Pipe National Forest.
She tells me Britain
has history and you've got Geology.
Like I don't know
what we call in these parts:

diddly squat.
Oh! such mighty deportations!
La ila'ha il'la Huwa,
mammoths in caliche,
this is my beloved slag.

See that here? The color of the map
in Yuma is gray. There is a reason
for that. Go up the San Simon way,
take the Gleeson road
but first stop by and see
what the fire does not do
over time
to the miners and the mining.
Trust me, skip Las Vegas.
We're all just tourists,
those are all my fathers
and as I shimmy into town
through the Mule Pass
it is all very new to me.
Once again, the long way.





T-bird At The Gila


"Advice: learn poems so that you don't have to write them.
Strategies are useless testimonials."
- The Book of Warnings, D. Whitehead

This pretty life is death's comma,
we are in between, constructing
the darkest layer in the top soils
over which the eagle flies
with the owl, as same as the bug.

Once I stood on a reservation
for Indians and thought.
The wild wisdoms entered
into the world's recorder
like drugs with the cackle
of gypsies and caw of old birds.

When suddenly! Like that!
…the newest grand canyon opened
her secret vaults to receive
the sound and reek of vomit leaving the throat
of a drunkard who turned in and then, sped away.
Ah, the stories the rocks will tell.


*The key to understanding the witness of the Creator Himself is the key to understanding it all. There are no tricks to reading or writing when you realize the simplicity of that little tidbit in the first place.

Allah bears witness that there is no god but He, and (so do) the angels and those possessed of knowledge, maintaining His creation with justice; there is no god but He, the Mighty, the Wise. 3:19, The Proof known as Imran (the father of the Virgin known as Mary, Miriam), pbut.

Corey, Andrew, Dustin and Sean (my son's four undead fiends, r. A rather creative entourage of ghouls and actors.

Free Palestine

http://www.palestineonlinestore.com/index.html

Round up-ready Soybeans to Downing Street,
BEYOND GREED to the wha? GENE POLICE? Indian Cotton farmers committing suicide? What the hell?

What's wrong with the bees?

THIS. You see, bees secrete a substance on their abdomens that serves as a type of eugenics. Allah created and driven eugenics...not the human kind. It is used to control the size of hives and is entirely dependent on what the bees consume (pollen).

Monsanto. 90% of the agricultural market...that's a monopoly and there you have it...Soylent Green, Agent Orange...no. Just plain old garden products..that's what's killing the bees. The byproducts of these agents are known as PCBs and are as bad or worse than, Depleted Uranium. Bovine hormones injected into cattle to increase dairy production by at least 20% are worse than Depleted Uranium. DU is the tip of the industrial trash iceberg....it's far worse than anyone suspected. Far, far worse. And yes, DU is basically nuclear WASTE with fins which is deposited on unsuspecting victims of war crimes and occupations (Iraq, Lebanon, Iran to name a few)

You think you are safe if you don't live in Iraq? Nope, yer not. Not anymore.

Boycott them. Towns and cities need to enact restrictions and ban these Mega-Conglomerates from doing business. Forget about the Drug War or the War on Terror...these are the folks that are killing people and of course, the bees.

Substantial Equivalence is basically the creation of FAKE FOOD. Yes, Virginia, that is why a watermelon doesn't taste like a watermelon anymore and exactly why we can eat a watermelon without "all that suffering" involved in the SEEDS. Imagine!

Flipping unbelievable. Perhaps the best part of the video is George Bush Senior's cameo appearance on the DE REGULATION committee visit to the Monsanto headquarters.

EMS? Thousands disabled from the consumption of L-Tryptophan? Well of course. When I worked with the world's foremost metabolic specialist in Riyadh (Dr. Pinar T. Ozand), we basically used amino acids which were missing due to congenital "inborn" errors of metabolism (from consanguinous unions which tend to produce a variety of results) in order to establish "normal" human metabolism i.e. which is basically the result of glucose metabolism (Kreb's cycle, remember it? probably not). People think that these little chemicals are innocuous but I'm here to tell you, they aren't at all innocuous.

From the Proof called The Bee:

[16.4] He created man from a small seed and lo! he is an open contender.

[16.17] Is He then Who creates like him who does not create? Do you not then mind?

[16.56] And they set apart for what they do not know a portion of what We have given them. By Allah, you shall most certainly be questioned about that which you forged.

Test your IQ by taking this "awareness" test. Go!

Everything's Connected




Trust when he says he was
in a coma for five months,
no one lies after a coma.
If they sleep, they sleep
only a little and insomnia
doesn't seem to bother them.
We all walked outside
together like that,
into the back alley
a perfect back alley
in a slow motion town
on the border
where I sat and considered
Framingham, Massachussetts.
A whole town measured out
grace in urine cups
and xrays. One by one
they told the truth about it
and Chagas is what you call
an emerging disease.
It gets up into your heart
after years of living on the edge.
I've seen those things on leaves
yet still, I never kill
a single one of them
or scorpions but I do
run away like a kid
fighting wasps. Once
I showed a furry
little beast to a poverty
stricken woman
and she crushed it.
It was a tarantula,
we're all just flesh and bone.
She was the first
to notice the invasion,
and ran up the hill
crying fee fi fo fum.
That was before the war
and power surges
took everything
we thought we owned.
It's one of the best things
that ever happened
but now, I don't take
any chances and put
nets over my bean stalks
and count them every day.

The back alley of this piece:

Assassins

At the Copper Queen

The Framingham Demonstration

Smile Train goes to Haiti



Go to the link on the right hand side of the page and give.

The amazing Skidboot




A Long Way To Pocatello Tonight

Have you ever seen
such a clean crowd of people
sitting in their folding chairs
listening
chortling,
have you ever seen
such a thing?

I have.

They're just everywhere.
They want stripper poets
killer poets and poets
who kill themselves
for a living
as ornery as that
must sound

to the untrained ear

that doesn't know
too much about
poetry but alot
about sitting in an audience.

It's a long way to Pocatello tonight
isn't it? I know it's a long way
but do tell me, how far?

Once, we met Rothenberg
and he knew about that distance
to Pocatello. Just discovered it.

I might just tell him tonight
how far Pocatello is
when there is no audience
and life is just a watch and a wait.

Iraq, the Lost Generation of Youth

Hope at Crowhaven Farm

If only at eight
I hadn't seenCrowhaven Farm,
deliberated on it
during the long nights
when the rats
scurried around
in the ceilings,
if only at eight
I hadn't seen
the way they put
bricks upon Meg's chest,
called her a witch
and they were
all dressed up
for Thanksgiving,
if only I hadn't seen
Crowhaven Farm
in 1970,
my life would have been
not as it is
but as it was.

A Long Way To Pocatello Tonight

Have you ever seen
such a clean crowd of people
sitting in their folding chairs
listening
chortling
have you ever seen
such a thing?

I have.

They're just everywhere,
they want stripper poets
killer poets and poets
who kill themselves
for a living
as ornery as that
must sound

to the untrained ear

that doesn't know
too much about
poetry but alot
about sitting in an audience.

It's a long way to Pocatello tonight
isn't it? I know it's a long way
but do tell me, how far?

Once, we met Rothenberg
and he knew about that distance
to Pocatello. Just discovered it.

I might just tell him tonight
how far Pocatello is
when there is no audience
and life is just a watch and a wait.

The Balfour Declaration in a "nutshell":

Arthur Koestler wrote that in the letter "one nation solemnly promised to a second nation the country of a third." More than that, the country was still part of the Empire of a fourth, namely Turkey.

(The Letter is on the Masthead)

It was decided by Lord Allenby that the "Declaration" should not then be published in Palestine where his forces were still south of the Gaza-Beersheba line. This was not done until after the establishment of the Civil Administration in 1920.

Then why was the "Declaration" made a year before the end of what was called The Great War?

"The people" were told at the time that it was given as a return for a debt of gratitude which they were supposed to owe to the Zionist leader (and first President of Israel), Chaim Weizman, a Russian-born immigrant to Britain from Germany who was said to have invented a process of fermentation of horse chestnuts into scarce acetone for production of high explosives by the Ministry of Munitions.

This horse chestnut propaganda production was not dislodged from the mass mind by the short bursts of another story which was used officially between the World Wars.




Sailing to Byzantium
by William Butler Yeats

THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.

O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

ON the poetry of Donald Rumsfeld

I Land in the Lilacs

My irises aren't really
mine afterall but all the same
they are touched carefully,
split and soaked, ever-lasting
dutiful to the ages
and then some.
Rhizomes gently laid into
their earthy sockets
produce secret after secret
from who knows where,
who knows where.

I saw this video some time ago while looking at other videos of the Mexican Airforce UFO sighting. I didn't know what it was really...just a video of some kids playing soccer and then yelling and running away.

This video however explains what is seen on the cell phone video:



Pretty strange actually.


The 2008 Texas story on CNN:



Witness reports on the Texas sighting:



Hey Radicalann, do any of these lights look like that one out at the Rifle Range?

The Sherrif (from the Arabic Sharif):

A new Voices on the Wind is online now. Voices is a local ezine put together by Leslie Clark who teaches at Cochise Community College here in the boondocks. I'm not sure how long she has been at it but for sure, this issue is truly one of the most fabulous of her concoctions to date if not the most fabulous. Ms. Clark selects a theme and the poets attempt to address it as they see fit. I'm often puzzled as to how this works but it does. This time, the poems are each and every one fabulously well suited to the theme of Disparity.

This perfect line is from one of Cappy Love Hanson's poems titled Getting Well. I met Ms. Hanson when she traveled into town for our collective reading which was transmitted into the airwaves of the world by Bisbee's very own KBRP.

"Every time I fall down sick and rise up
surviving, I know Death’s held me in his foul
palm like an apple, poked me with a blood-blackened
claw, and judged me not yet ripe."


Yes. Exactly Ms. Cappy Love Hanson. Exactly.

Voices on the Wind Volume 33, Voices of Disparity

The Etiology of Mr. X

as if it was blown into the halo of park lightsbetween strike three and batter up - Darla Whitehead, Pack of Lies

Yesterday about noon, this fellow
finds us out in the sun and says
he wants his test done now.
We of ambigious natures, nurses
working towards Armageddons
big and small, tow each other
like bricks into rooms
full of camphor and prevention.
It all starts there in the clinics,
under chairs where little girls
run to scream and hide. Big boys
grow pale and old men come to us
before they die to talk
about their daughters, to talk
about their sons. It has been
a long time of such things,
keeping the secrets of nature alive
in our pockets and cupboards,
writing down our sincerities
in diaries on demand. Up front
there are drawers full of history,
treacherous rumours named Murphy and Cline.
His hat suits him well I think
as he chatters on about his deeds.
What does this to us all?
What cause is there to explain?
I've lived and loved and laughed
this much and cried about the same.

Cold Radiations

A purse is robbed
and bothered.
All of them turn up empty,
every one you see.

At night in a dream
the perfect death is planned
and mourned. The djinn cries
generated automatically:

when a purse
is rubbed into the lamp,
the warmth of hands
inside all the last pockets,
faith in all the answers,
and mail order novenas.

Mother's purse was never like that,
equipped
with a fold out cup,
her Salem menthols
and a pack of tissues.
No genies. She opened it
close to the air cooler
in the dispensary
where Billie Alexander shelled
out Doan's for diamonds.
All of the patients trying to get out
the pill shop doors and windows
like cattle in the chute.
The cold air drifted up,
under long ago
into the Arizona radiations.

When her purse turned up empty
as they all do,
the origin of novenas was unknown.



Except for one thing – pills are past tense, history, just one of the obsolete dosage forms that are part of the trivia of the history of medicine. Even the rare holdovers from the glory days of patent medicines, Doan's Pills and Carter's Little Pills (once known as Carter's Little Liver Pills) aren't pills, they're tablets. The word "pill" may still be with us, but the pill – a dosage form made by combining some active drug with an inactive ingredient (soap, bread crumbs, or rose petals were common) that would give it volume, and honey, or later, glycerin (which might be added to keep the pills from getting hard), and rolled into a ball – is gone.

http://www.medhunters.com/articles/oldDosages.html